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While it’s true that my people brought me in off the street, let’s be realistic – I’m the one who saved them. If not for me, they would endure a life of drudgery and boredom in a stuffy office.

They treat me accordingly, however, with a massage every morning, treats, and beds in all the sunniest spots. Of course, I make sure they don’t forget their places by letting them know that what’s theirs is mine: desks, laps, chairs, windowsills, holiday decorations, etc.

Really, the only thorn in my side is Wes – the dog who invades my home every day. They insist on calling him my stepbrother, but trust me, no dog will ever be a relation of mine! It’s also an affront that the person with my favorite lap betrayed me. They say he “had a baby,” but all I know is he smells funny now.

But as is befitting, I am treated like a queen. String and bug videos entertain me, my beautiful fur is brushed, I get a new collar for all the holidays, I have a place to hide during thunderstorms, and they take pictures of me as if they’re the paparazzi.