My name is Fortuna and I am presently in the body of a black cat. I can best be described by referring to the human who caters to my every whim; his name is Steve.
For a while I was afraid that he somehow thought I couldn’t understand English. I pitied his lack of intuition. Then he seemed to get it though we’ve since both agreed that I will continue to pretend that I don’t understand him. He is okay with this, which is good, as he has no choice.
The human named Steve did not come and visit me yesterday. See, I am presently living in a house with a woman named Autumn and her two children: Nyssa and Haven. I think that Nyssa is quite pleasant (most of the time) and I am guessing her name means “little princess” in some other language. Haven is 3 and I am convinced his name means “utter chaos” in some other language. He seems to think that I am fascinating and wishes to be around me. I do not share his views.
The reason I live with the human woman Autumn is that my primary human, Steve, is living in a house with someone named Lily who is “violently allergic to cats”. He feels bad about the separation and often holds me close to his head while whispering his lamentations. I don’t mind really but I’m not going to tell him that. When it comes to me, he should always feel like he is not doing enough.
There is another human who frequents Autumn’s house and his name is Cory. He appears to be trying out for a role as Autumn’s mate and so far seems to be doing a good job. He has cats as his home so he is familiar with felines, both understanding our needs as well as his inherent inferiority when viewed through our eyes. His presence today made the lack of appearance by Steve more tolerable. However, if Steve does not visit me today, I think I will throw up on the floor in protest.
Steve visited yesterday for a while and this pleased me. He sat, as he always does, with his laptop in his lap and tried futilely to type with one hand while also trying to pet me. Not very efficient if you ask me. As well, I think his priorities are not in alignment.
As a result of the visit, I decided not to vomit on the floor.
Later, the children (Nyssa and Haven) were given a pile of bubble wrap with which to amuse themselves. They seemed to think it was just about the best way to spend 10 minutes of your life. I strongly disagree. I would much rather float in a sea of Emerald Triangle Catnip for 10 minutes. Sometimes I do this while it appears that I am sleeping. Interestingly enough, it seems that the world’s best catnip–The Emerald Triangle as it were–is in Wisconsin. I’m not sure if I believe that.
Steve came to visit me yesterday in his ongoing effort to make me feel like we are spending at least a bit of quality time together each day. “How did he choose to spend this time?”, you ask… by trimming my claws and brushing me.
Now, in order to address the dismay I am sure many of my fellow feline readers are feeling, I only let him do this as a token gesture to his delusion that we have a power-sharing agreement. Despite the fact that I work daily work to hone my claws into fierce, life-ending apparatuses (it is always good to be ready after all), I really think this is a small concession to pay in order to bolster his fragile ego. And, to be honest, I kind of like the brushing; inasmuch as it beats barfing up hairballs. That is decidedly not fun.
I do, however, question why he thinks that 30 minutes spent in my presence with 15 minutes of that time being taken up with “torturing” me in any way resembles quality time. He did try to make it up to me somewhat by refilling my food bowl (I am close to figuring out how to do that myself), turning on the bathroom sink so I could drink (yes, I am aware that I have a constantly circulating, filtered water dish… what’s your point?), and otherwise chasing me around the house saying inane things like, “Come here cute kitten” and “Aren’t you the cutest kitten in the world?”.
I, of course, ran upstairs to hide in order to show my displeasure. I think he gets it but, he is a human after all, so I cannot be sure.
On the topic of nicknames…
My human has developed several nicknames that he uses to address me. They are largely puerile in nature and he delivers them in this child-like voice that I only hear when he speaks to me… and to the dog. I find this correlation most disturbing.
Let’s begin with my “full name”: Fortuna Diabla del Poto del Maize. This translates into “Fortuna the little she-devil with a butt of corn”. Originally, the ending of my name was “del cristal”. Both references don’t actually have anything to do with my anatomy. Rather, they refer to the material that my human puts into the box where I “do my business”. It used to be these blue crystals and now it is ground-up corn husks. Since “my business” is just that, I am going to discontinue this line of narrative and move on to less personal nicknames. After all, you never know who is reading about you on the internet.
The next three nicknames all revolve around one of my main tools of communication (after meowing, purring, and blogging that is): my expressive, constantly swishing tail. These names are, in order of use, Ms. Sassy Pants (ridiculous as I do not wear pants), Ms. Swishy Butt (equally absurd as it is my tail, and not my butt, which “swishes”), and Sasparilla (what the hell does this even mean? I am neither a soda additive nor a medicinal tonic).
Finally, we come to the two most jejune of all the nicknames. These are naturally the ones that also elicit the most inane and childish voices from my human: Cutie, Cutie Kitten and The Cutest Kitten in the Whole, Wide World. Both of these statements are the epitome of the obvious so why even feel the need to say them?
In the end, I understand that my human is drawn to praise and coddle me for I am exceptional. For his sake and the sake of all others in my presence, let me say that you may address me simply as Fortuna: Benevolent, Enlightened Queen of the Cosmos.