Bismarck, Prince of Cats
I am a very well mannered Persian cat who never climbed on furniture
and was civil to the resident (excuse the language) dog. But when I generously
bestowed my long hair on the carpet, I suddenly found myself in a cage
in a room with many other cats. They were kind to me there but I wanted
a real home.
One day a man came who saw my photo in the newspaper. I could tell he was properly respectful of my distinguished ancestry so I licked his hand to show my approval.
He took me home with him and named me "Bismarck" after a 19th
century German chancellor with a pug face just like mine (he must have
been very handsome for a human!). Now I have my own room, good food and
two devoted humans who
follow my orders to buy food weekly for the less fortunate Humane Society
kitties.
Update 12/27/2000
I have properly trained my servants because they know I am a prince. I just got my own bed for Christmas and will NOT share it with that small dog by the name of Scrunchy. Once in a while I walk up to her and hit her - just to make sure she is properly respectful. Actually, that mentally challenged dog thinks I am petting her. One good thing, Scrunchy is as white as I am, but has no idea of grooming. So I clean her once in a while. Nice family though. I am King of the Castle.
Update 9/18/01
Our beloved Bismarck died of kidney failure on 9/10/2001. He lives on forever in our memories.