Tempest Papers: Training the Humans


Dear Paris,
It took a solid hour of meowing (beginning at 5:00 this morning, I might add, right as I wanted to go to sleep) to make sure your mother got up in time to get a photo of me as the sun came up.
Knowing how much she loves taking photos of gorgeous things, I thought she’d at least be a little appreciative, but NOOOO. She was cranky as hell about it. How do you like them fish? Really, how ungrateful can she be? I think I look amazing in the first rays of the sun.
I even posed for her.
After all of that meowing, now my throat feels parched. I suppose now I need to go wake her up again to get me some fresh water before I go nap for the morning (stale water simply won’t do for someone as sensitive as me). Why is everything so much work for me?
Your beautiful cat,
Queen of the pets, overlord of the floating castle and gorgeous as hell.
P.S. Does this angle make my butt look big? You can
tell me. I won’t get mad.