Mother of All Monarchs

Most children have fond memories of pets they've owned and cared for. In our house, we've experienced this to an extreme by most any rational person's understanding. How many households in America can say they've been the proud parent of a fly trainer.

The strangest experience has to be Mouzer. Our feline friend has come to realize she does have a staff, her humble servants. This, the same cat that used to be happy with a huge bowl of food and water filled a week at a time, now refuses to touch any food that has been out for more than one hour. Why should she? She has three boys that are at her beckon call.

It has to throw prospective visitors when they enter, hearing three otherwise normal boys meowing to a cat, as she orders them around.

The usual day for our Mother of all Monarchs begins by leading one of her many servants to either the front door to decide if the weather is acceptable for basking in the sun, or maybe to the kitchen for breakfast followed by lounging on a patio chaise.

I thought it just my kids that had lost their mind, but even the most adamant self-proclaimed cat haters have been caught speaking Mouzer's native tongue. I believe our royal subject would be startled should she venture out far enough where people spoke in the gibberish language we know as English.

It's odd, what starts out as a pet, takes over our hearts and house, ruling with a furry paw. Our Queen has just awoke from her deep slumber, and is searching the house for a humble servant to bow to her royal commands.