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There is a magical place you’ve probably never heard of. Even if you had, you couldn’t go searching for it if you wanted to. I am talking about none other than the cat palace, a beautiful, fantastic place where your cats can sneak off to hobnob with other felines and to make purchases (with money they’ve stolen from you, of course!).

The cat palace is never in the same place twice, so you won’t find it try as you might. Even if you could, the doors for customers are too small for humans to enter. In fact, humans are only allowed to enter through the back, where they are required to set up stock for no more than an hour a day and disappear from sight before the real customers come in.

The cat palace is stocked with treats and goodies that would make any kitty’s eyes light up. From tuna snacks, to feather toys, to cherry-scented sherbet shampoo that’s specially formulated for their fur, the cat palace offers it all. The cats sneak away from home through holes in the walls and open doors, stealthily make their way to the cat palace and enter after meowing a secret code that periodically changes. Once their orders are complete, cats can return home with their treasures, this time laden down with goodies in tiny packs that they wear on their bodies.

Although it might seem tricky for both staff and customers to trade money for goods, especially when you consider that neither has opposable thumbs, the cats make it work every day. Besides, these fuzzy creatures are all about the some. Many cats head to the cat palace simply to socialize with friends and strangers. From housecat to alleycat to wildcat, all cats are welcomed at the cat palace.

And once they’re there, they can enjoy images of birds and rodents on screens, play with toys, climb trees and jump between shelves, and relax by giving each other massages or baths. The cat palace is at once a spa, a store, and an amusement park. No human institution is as fun or crucial to happiness for humans as the cat palace is to cats. Even if something like this existed, it would fail to achieve the luxury and harmony exhibited by the cat palace.

So the next time you’re not sure where Simon or Smokey or Max is, they could be at the cat palace having the time of their lives!

I imagine that wild cats, before humans domesticated them, had a fearsome foe in the wild. You know what I’m talking about: feet. Giant, disembodied feet that chased and stomped the poor kitties. Otherwise, why the hell else do I find claws, teeth and bodies mauling mine on a daily basis?

Mr. Cuddlepants is my nickname for Phantom. One of many, actually. It is a somewhat patronizing nickname; although, it’s also suitable. You see, Phantom loves to cuddle his mommy and, as his mommy I love that he loves to cuddle. But he has certain requirements. He only cuddles in the bedroom and usually only if I have a specific blanket on the bed. When I say cuddle, what I really mean is that he kneads in proximity to me. See, he was separated from his kitty mommy too early, so he kneads and sucks on blankets like a kitten would. Often, this kneading leads to claw marks on his human mommy, but I try to deal with it because I like being close to him.

While Phantom remains curiously aloof with other people, we have a strong bond. In fact, my roommate has never even heard him purr. If you visit, he’s friendly. He’ll come right up, smell you out and then promptly leave when he’s figured you out. There’s no doubt that he’s a smartypants. There’s a reason why he looks so intelligent and I always describe his cunning and his badassery.

Yes, I’m still talking about a cat.

He is mentally and physically at the top of his game, boys and girls.

But, behind the bedroom door, he is Mr. Cuddlepants, a little boy who loves his mommy and shows it in a very specific way.

Sleeping

Seriously. If it’s not from Goliath meowing randomly and clawing at the door or banging his food dish. Or Phantom pawing the bottom of the dresser, running over my body, climbing the walls and knocking stuff off the dresser. Or maybe he’s waking me up for cuddles. Or maybe they’re chasing each other through the house. They’ve been especially bad lately. If I can get to sleep, I wake up multiple times due to the cats anyway.

Making the bed

Maybe my first point doesn’t even matter since I can’t make Phantom stop chasing the sheets long enough to get them on the bed. Oh, and remember how excited I was to have satin sheets? Maybe a bad idea. They look pretty horrendous now.

Walking

Have you ever taken a step only to step on your cat and then you feel super bad when they meow? Or maybe you’ve moved forward when a cat was trying to jump onto something — directly in your path — and it collided with you bodily? My favorite is when I move my leg forward and it collides — midair! — with a cat.

Dressing

Anything with straps or strings. Anything that flows and moves. Phantom’s on it and his claws are in me. Ow ow ow.

The Internet.

How many pictures have I taken of the laptop on my lap and Goliath all on top? Yea, a lot.

Why, you ask? I’ll tell you why.

• Fish eat less than cats.
• They do not chew on plastic.
• They do not make sounds.
• I don’t have to clean out a litter box.
• They don’t walk all over your person.
• Or yawn in your face.
• Or chew/scratch your body.
• Or scratch at carpet.
• Fish take up less room.
• Fish don’t climb doorways.
• Fish don’t bang their food dishes when they’re hungry; they just die.

These are the reasons I should get a fish if you ignore the fact that fish are stupid  pets. Insted, I have these: