It is generally accepted in this house that I am the Good Cat (Official)(TM). The humans say this frequently, especially at the boy cats, who are Bad and Wicked. 'Mooncat is a good girl,' they say. 'Why can't you be more like her?' 'Mooncat doesn't spray the furniture or visitors.' It's a Well Known Fact that I Am Good.
It follows, therefore, that everything I do is also Good (Official) (TM). Everything, from being adorable on laps, using the litter tray correctly, being friendly to visitors and not removing the food from my bowl, to digging up the tissue box, sleeping on the marquis' head, scrabbling at the duvet at 3 a.m., biting ankles to get attention, getting between the keyboard and the monitor and washing the marquise's hair, face and hands while she's working. I do them, so they are all Good.
So why is it that the humans persist in approving only certain of these activities? Do they think it's all about them, or something? I do these things because they are Right and Necessary. It's a well known fact that tissues are evil, and, if not shredded, are prone to lurking in corners to ambush innocent passers'-by. And it's cold at the moment: when I sleep on the marquis' head, it's to help keep him insulated. And as every cat knows, humans are utterly useless at washing themselves and need us cats to keep them even slightly clean. All my activities are reasonable. I demand that the humans recognise this At Once and cease such unacceptable behaviour as shutting me out of the bedroom, hiding the tissues, holding their ankles up out of my reach and pushing me off the desk.
Your Good Girl,