Welcome

That's what people usually say, right? I mean, we would never say such a thing. Mainly because it doesn't really make any sense and second, because we don't talk, do we? However, two-legs love saying that, so I thought I would begin with that at the start of my monolog here.

Let me introduce myself. My name is Betty and I am a cat. I am not one of those high class, fuzzy, beings with expensive looking haircut you can smell three miles ahead before they turn the corner of your house. No, I am a straight tabby street cat. I run a family of six humans, my stepsister Kuli, one stupid guinea pig named Pida and a rat. Yes, I know, I'm...I'm working on it. They even gave it a name, Luna, can you believe that?! We live in a flat that after few of my finishing touches feels like home. Who likes that stinky flowers anyway. They didn't even tasted good. I basically saved the whole family, again. It will never stop fascinating me how could that family survive such a long time without my mastery guidance. They should have been already wiped out if not by a mail-man then by natural selection. Of course, now when they have me, their savior, their lives will be full of happiness and never-ending awe from my  brilliant ideas. At least for now, when they keep feeding me. I am usually not that generous to everybody, but I sort of started to like this bag of miserable folks with all their quirks and all.

Take for example Honza, he is a father in their hierarchy. He goes out almost every morning and comes back late afternoon with....nothing. Not a single mouse! Almost nine hours on the hunt and not a single trophy! That's not exactly what I call a successful head of the family. However, the family still seems to like him. He gets to eat and has his place on the couch (yes, you correctly feel a bit of envy here). He is even allowed to switch a TV channel. I cannot even imagine what they would say if I did it. It would get me a bloody lot of explaining. A mother, the one that actually thinks she is the neck under the head of the family, poor being, is as good hunter as the honcho, but to her defense, she can prepare the most angelically smelling food you can imagine. It is not always eatable, mind you, I have over-heard a phrase “Africa style” here and there in connection with her products, but you can kill me on the spot if I know what that means. I guess it is a “human thing”. Kids, Veronika and Michael are the ones least predictable in my family. Especially Michael is very hard to guess what he is going to do. He might seems to lay his hand on me to caress me and I feel he really means it, but sometimes he hugs me so much, my inner organs start to feel a bit claustrophobic and want to jump out. Then I need to show who is the boss here and put him in line with my sharp claws. He is a quick thinker though. Gets it on the first. Veronika keeps her distance from me. She respects my personal space, which is very thoughtful of her. In fact, I think she is afraid of me. And I am such a peaceful personality. I would never hurt a fly. I prefer moths. Flies make that funny feeling in your stomach when you swallow them, you know what I mean? Moths are much better in that regards. A bit too dry, yes, but a wagon of proteins. Just between us, it makes my fur so shiny. But don't tell anyone. It is my little beauty secret.

Oh and there are grandpa and grandma. Grandma is mainly the one serving me those delicious small packs of food. And she is so funny swearing when cleaning my toilet. I like to lay on her lap when she is watching Who wants to be a Millionaire on TV. I got the answers three times faster than her, but hush, don't tell her. Grandpa is very strange. I don't really understand his role in the family. I think he might be an alien. I have read about it. They come from Mars and live among us here on Earth studying our habits and customs. I wonder if there are alien cats too. I wouldn't mind a decent handsome alien tom-cat coming my way, meow.

What? You are wondering how I learn to read? That's a story for another day. For now just try to accept that cats are actually very good at reading. Just because we don't talk does not mean we cannot read. And let me tell you, you don't know a lot of things about us. And that is basically the reason why I started to write this thing. Most people think cats are cute little creatures that occasionally catch a mouse and the rest of the day are laying on the couch sleeping. They don't see how much work we do to keep the family running. Of course, all those things are invisible to ordinary people, but I am here to stop that. I am going to write these my memoirs for the future generations of two-legs, so they know. So they know who is the real king of the humanity. Lions?! I beg your pardon. Don't make me laugh. It's not even funny. So here you have it. The real story.