OK, every now and then we need a just-for-fun post, so here we go.
My name is Queen of Sheba and I'm a cat. I didn't really belong to anybody, or at least not to anybody I liked, so I started coming to their house and acting both beautiful and pitiful. While the human man was gone on a trip, the human lady adopted me. But that's ok, because the man likes me, now, too.
I am completely black and very beautiful and regal looking, so they named me Queen of Sheba. But now they say maybe it's not a good name because I act more like a two-year old than a queen. I just don't understand.
When my humans tell me it's time to go outside, I really don't want to go. So I go and hide. Or I hang on to my blankie (ahem, a towel they put on the chair where I sleep because they say I'm dirty. Humpf!) with my claws. Or I suddenly decide that I need a drink or more food to eat. Unlike a two-year old, I LOVE taking naps and do it all day long.
And then when they feed me, I won't eat unless my human mom comes to see what's in my bowl, first. I'm a picky eater, too. I don't like tinned cat food. I don't care anything about human food. I'll hardly bother to chew on bones. I just like my dry cat food. Nothing else. Except things I kill, like mice and birds.
I have to be right where my human mom is, which is usually right under her feet in the kitchen. She says that's like a two-year old, too. Oh, and speaking of the kitchen....if she opens a cupboard door, I have to get into it to explore.
And if my human mom goes to the bathroom, I don't like that at all because she abandons me. So if she forgets to lock the door, I get lucky because the door doesn't close very well. I can put my paw under the door and pull on the door until it comes open a bit and then wiggle myself under it. I definitely don't want her using the bathroom in peace.
And if she goes in the other bathroom, I can't get in, so just to show her I'm mad at her I get up on the bed where I'm forbidden to be.
And at Christmas time, I loved playing with the ornaments on the tree. It was fun to chew on them. And my humans say I'm like a two-year old that way, because I chew on everything....pens when my human mom is writing, the rug in the kitchen, and other things left lying around.
I've heard that two-year olds like to bring their moms gifts that maybe the mom isn't sure what it is. When I bring my humans gifts like mice or birds, they say, "What is it?!" and they aren't appreciative at all.
I'm pretty smart, though. If I want to go out and my humans are in the room, I just sit at the door and they let me out. But sometimes they are in another room so I bat at the keys hanging in the door. Then they hear that and come let me out.
I think my humans like me, even if they do think I'm silly.