rather than start a new thread.......
I prefer LionFace StarPaw. My slaves call me by many little endearments, although my 'official' name is Cairo, but I think LionFace StarPaw is the most descriptive. My silky black mane surrounds my perfect head with no less luxuriousness than that of my larger brothers. The same long fur sprouts between my toes, giving the impression that I tread on dark stars that rise up to create a living, moving constellation.
I came to live with my slaves when I was very young. All my life, the female slave has been the caretaker, the male slave a pawn, a toy to play with like a feather on a string. The male can be manipulated and controlled. I voice plaintively and gaze intently with my topaz eyes and he melts to my every whim.
The problem, he doesn't know where the good stuff is. The female is in charge of food, catnip, and treats. He must always go to her to get the things I desire! And the female is made of harder stuff than he.
The female adores me as well, to the point of wanting to keep me well and healthy. All my cries and pleading eyes rarely provide reward. It is easy to get her attention and show her what I wish; it's much harder to get that wish fulfilled!
There were 2 others like me when I first came to live here. They were old and set in their ways, and my female slave loved them very much. The old king and queen liked nothing more than to lay in the sun and talk of their golden days – so very boring for one of my youth! I liked to ambush them as they ambled to their favorite lounging area and nip them on the neck. The old king was lazy and would do nothing more than wait until I finished and continue to his rest. The old queen, however, she was a scrapper! She was always ready for a fight and I was happy to give her one!
It had been a long time since my female slave had youth to look after, and I took delight in frightening her. I remember once (when I was still small enough to slip by unnoticed and new enough to the household that my female slave forgot to check my location) when she believed she had picked me up with a load of laundry and put me in the washer. I hid behind the machine and watched as, ever more frantic, she searched the machine, eventually taking out the wet items and shaking them out one by one, growing more afraid with each empty soaking article of clothing. I finally took pity when she began to cry hysterically while attacking the dryer and came out laughing. It was a very long time before I was allowed in the lower rooms again after that.
I was just coming into the knowledge of my regalness when the old queen became ill. She grew a large growth on the side of her jaw and drooled blood. The female slave took her to the doctor one day and came back crying. That was the first time I noticed the travel box. The travel box never means any good. I had not yet been in the travel box at the time, but even then, I realized it was not a good omen. The old queen came back that day, but a few days later, still crying, the female slave bundled her up into the travel box and this time, the old queen did not come back with the crying slave, and I never saw the old queen again.
A year after that, the old king began to show his age. He no longer cared to take even the most basic care of himself, forcing the female slave to comb and cut out mats, sometimes causing him pain. He would eat only one type of food and little of that. First one day, then two, could go by before he would rouse himself to the catbox.
My female slave must have realized the end had come after the old king spent 2 days crying with a strange call he had never used before and hiding in dark corners of the house. Out came the travel box and once again, my female slave came home crying and with an empty travel box.
Some time after that, a once in a lifetime (at least, my lifetime) occurrence happened! My female slave left with an empty travel box and returned with it full! I had just become accustomed to having the house and both my slaves' affection to myself when my accursed female slave welcomed 2 intruders to my domain!
The young queen was small, almost tiny. She had (and still has) only half a nose and very long toes. The new king was large and apparently quite hale, although very quiet. He did not speak much and was very softspoken when he did. I tried my best to intimidate them from the start, but the king was not very bright and didn't understand intimidation, and the queen was just as ready to scrap as I had been at her age.
I was forced to share my affections and demands on my slaves yet again. For many weeks I refused to associate with either of the newcomers, but eventually I developed an uneasy truce with the queen. I could never abide the king, tho – he was always hungry and if one did not finish one's food, he would be happy to eat all the leftovers, mine and the young queen's too!
One night, the king did not wish to eat his or anyone's food. I could tell this concerned the female slave a little, but she thought it was just a brief moment when the king was not interested in food, however rare that occasion had proved to be so far. The slaves went to their rest with no thoughts of anything wrong.
In the morning, the young king was wheezing and breathing quite heavily. The female slave was very upset, and out came the travel box. The slave and box returned later, much calmer although the young king was still having much trouble breathing.
However, the young king was never able to breath normally, despite the medicine the female slave forced on him, and he would find the most comfortable hiding spot to heave.
I could feel the female slave's concern grow throughout the day as the king didn't respond as she thought he would. Once again, she bundled the king into the travel box, while he made the most and loudest cries we had ever heard him utter.
And again, the travel box returned empty and wet with tears.
So, now I have the young queen only as companion. I enjoy her company, but of course resent the time the slaves spend with her. Sometimes I intrude, for my fair share. Most times, I just wait until I can have all the attention of one or both to myself. I try to stay healthy and whole, for fear of the travel box. I do not wish to give the female slave any reason to put me into it and cry.
a rl story about the idiot behind the queen.....posted to my livejournal page....
nuttin worse than an old stoner with alzheimer's....
so i got this new fancy phone, i believe i told you....and you need to know that the purse i carry has this lil pocket on the shoulder strap that i use to carry my sirius radio unit....
so my bro leaves this morning for his 2 week vaca to north dakota (long way to go for a piece, i know and think...), so i been taking the opportunity to clean his stinky smelly pit of a room. this entails a lot of drudging up and down the stairs from his room to the laundry room. somewhere along the way, i did something to my arthritic knee.
i try to stand the pain - so bad i am literally crying from it - until i can't anymore and decide that since i have to go to kroger's anyway, i will go now and get some aspercreme or some such for the pain. as i pull into the parking lot i am talking to my mom on the swanky new phone and listening to howard stern on my sirius radio unit.
i get off the phone and head into kroger's doing my shopping and stopping at the pharmacy for some pain relief advice. i pay and head out to the truck, only to find my phone missing.
still in pain i return to the store and search the areas i was at and the peeps baskets, hoping maybe someone picked it up and hadn't turn it in yet. no go. i go the pharmacy and the customer service desk, no one has turned one in.
still still in pain, i head across michigan ave to the sprint store to announce my loss. of course the sprint store is full and i have to stand around for about 20 minutes before a rep can help me. she tells me 'o, you need to use one of the free phones to call customer service to tell them about it'. wish the guy taking our names for service could have told me that......
i call cs and tell them the story and they cut the service to my phone. i head off to my mom's so i can call snake and tell him i just lost a new phone with about $60 worth of extras - sure to ruin the first vaca he has had in years.....
i am heading down mich brooding about my painful knee and how i am gonna tell snake the news, when i look over at my purse and see a black and silver unit (that looks like my sirius unit in the pocket) in the pocket - but it can't be the sirius, because i am listening to it and indeed, never took it out of the reciever at any store......
yeap, you guessed it - i had put my phone in the pocket i store my sirius unit in and had thought that the phone was it.......
so now i had to go to my mom's and explain why i needed her phone to call the sprint peeps and reactivate my phone........
and snake got a biiiggggg kik out of the story, too.......
Re: a rl story about the idiot behind the queen.....posted to my livejournal page....
Well.. that story is lots less nice to read. but i wish to congratulate you for the others...
I'm soon to start my own line of posts. I hope i'd do as well :)