Quit kicking around in my bed, disturbing my sleep. It is my bed, and get that stinky little mutt off the other side.

Well, I'll tolerate that fluffy furball for a while, maybe even that tiny yap-factory downstairs, but don't push me, or I'll rip the carpets and curtains and everybody's faces to shreds.

When I say I want out I mean now, and when I say I want in I mean immediately. Sheesh! You wonder why I shred the woodwork and insulation!

"Meow" means feed me. 12 years and you haven't learned that? I'll wander all over the kitchen counters as I please, eat your wretched thawing food, your middling uncovered leftovers till you learn proper Siamese.

The stairway carpet and piano-stool legs are mine! Don't ever chastize me for ripping them up or I'll fix you again with that blank, dismissive stare till you understand who owns what around here.

Thank you for your consideration. Feed me. NOW!