Dear Paris, I Think I Might Miss You. The Tempest Papers, Letters from a Boat Cat in the Bahamas


Dear Paris,
Well I have to say it. I think I might miss you. I’ve been making my displeasure clear to the humans on board by pacing back and forth across the pilot house all afternoon whilst yeowling as loud as I can. I don’t think I could possibly be more clear, but still they ignore me. I do realize that I haven’t used my voice much over the last year, but damn, it sounds pretty clear to ME that I’m obviously upset. Still, the humans just carry on with their day like nothing is wrong.
I’m open to suggestions for getting my point across more clearly. I was thinking vomit on the pillow, but I’m hoping to keep that one for more extreme situations. It wouldn’t do much good to have them get used to that trick quite so early in our relationship.


That being said, can you at least send some better food or snacks? I’m getting desperate. The plain dry catfood is an insult to my incredibly refined palate. I think some live mice would be good for both my diet and my cardiovascular health. Try to package it in a box that looks like chocolate, though, I would love to see the look on Abyni’s face when she opens a box thinking its sweets for her and instead a herd of mice jump out. That would make my day.
Let me know when you’ve acquired the mice and I will try to find our shipping address.
Queen of the boat pets, Overlord of the floating Castle of 11 Purple Monkeys.
P.S. Look at this pathetic face. Don’t you want to send me some food? I bet you do.


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