Senorita Jakita Explains the Policies and Procedures

And so it came to be I called a meeting with Momma’s collection of Indoor and Indoor/Outdoor cats. I negotiated terms and conditions, after feedback, discussion and consensus, from the lot of them:

1)      We needed a name of our place of abide (just guess who  suggested Jakitaville).

2)      Because of the lofty duties I must exercise judicially, I needed a title – I was hoping Queen or Empress or even Princess but majority rules and the Cats were set on Senorita Jakita. They considered Mayor but they vetoed the idea because they do not have the power to vote me out. And if my head got too big and I did not carry out my duties, I’d still hang around, bossing and bullying (like another Mayor you may remember), become a binge party animal that did not respond well to intervention. Right, we got something in common (immeasurable egos), but ya think they are going to fire me??? I’ll get a lawyer, I will go to court, I will make their life miserable! Does that sound like someone you know, that is in the news every day?

Just between you and me, Jakitaville will turn in to a dictatorship – a benevolent dictatorship, but still NOBODY messes around with Jakita and her genius of manipulation and self-aggrandizement.

3)      Once I had all the cats on side, (okay, okay, I bribed them by promising that the male members would also have the title of Sir  in front of their given Name and the females would be known as The Pretty Little Misses (eg. Pretty Little Miss Diva Calico Gen) – got all that – yeah, my eyeballs are going round and round in my head, but I am still the Boss. Oh, and more thing, although I could mention them in my blog, the cats insisted they  were to have their own voice and be able to insert their version of events before, during and after, in their very own, cat-a-log. Whatever!!!!!

And so, we are living the dream, turning our Shangri-La into an oasis, where every critter lives in peace, knowing its’  boundaries, doing  ‘no harm’ with all due loyalty and support to Momma,  Wonder Boy and Daddy (May He Rest In Peace). We must give credit where it is due and remember  who pays for our kibble, our room and board, grooming, vet bills and generally keeps the ship on course – if only Momma would not be so easily seduced by every sad, bedraggled feral who look so needy and cries so pitifully because they are so hungry.  If only. Why don’t the feral cats  just stay at the Cat Colony? 

Why is there no law and order Border Security, like between Mexico and United States – a Trumpster wall, well, scratch that, the desperate always find a way over, under or through.  They are so committed to succeed or die trying, they are even willing to put up with me. But I am a piece of  cake compared to the creatures that lurk around the Cat Colony.