In The Words of Jaq

Many of my loyal minions have been writing and requesting more information about the newest addition to my kingdom, Jaq.

At first, I resisted, owing to the fact that this would take effort on my part in an endeavor that benefited me in no way whatsoever.

However, upon further reflection, I have come to the realization that I could satisfy the curiosity of my minions and gain valuable insight into the mind of Jaq by simply delegating the chore to her and allowing her to educate my readers in her own words.  What follows is the story of Jaq, as told by Jaq.

Before I turn over the computer thingy to her however, I must state that what follows are the solely expressed opinions of Jaq and I accept no responsibility for any silly, stupid or squirrel loving expressions contained therein. She relays her story without any fear of retribution on my part. (unless she says something I disagree with, and then either she or Tiger Lily will pay the price for her insubordination.) I also reserve the right to censor, edit, block out, obliterate and burn any subversive statements. If such statements are found, Tiger Lily will be flogged publicly.

And so without further ado, I give you Jaq:

Hi everyone. As His Royal Big Headedness, Master of The Universe, High Poobah of The Whatever, yada yada yada, told you, I am known around here as Jaq. Jaq has not always been my name, I have had three names now. Jaq is just the name that my current human types have given me.


When I was but a wee kitten, I was known as "Goldie". Not a very imaginative name, but my first human type was an adolescent girl named Cyndy. I don't know how old Cyndy was when she brought me home, but she was at that stage that all little girls go through when they become bipolar. They wish to be treated as adults, but with none of the responsibilities that adult human types have. She was okay as far as human types go, with the exception that she enjoyed dressing me in doll clothes and having "tea parties". However, I was well fed and allowed to eat scraps, so the trade off was acceptable.


For three years, I thought this would be my lot in life. I would be "Goldie", she would continue to treat me as her best friend, and we would be together always. But it was not to be. Cyndy's dad was a sailor and they moved often. Every once in a while, large unshaven human types would come to our home and put everything in boxes. They would then load the boxes in a truck and we would all move to a new house in a far away place with strange, new smells. 

It was during one such relocation that I was accidentally left behind.


I wandered for several days through the unfamiliar outside world. This was the first time that I had ever had to worry about where my next meal would come from. When it rained, I sought shelter. When the sun was shining, I found patches of grass to nap in. I quickly learned where the predators lurked and where other cats considered their territory. During this time, I acquired my second name: 

"Svetlana, The Squirrel Worrier"

But it wasn't long before I realized that I was not cut out for this vagabond existence.  Worrying squirrels, while fun and beneficial, did not put tuna in the bowl.

I began to seek a better way of life.


I learned from listening to other animal types that there was a house nearby that accepted and fed almost anything that wandered into its yard. It was mentioned that once, they spent a week attempting to feed a teddy bear that had been blown into their yard by a windstorm. They said this house was ruled by a small tuxedo cat that spent his days scowling in the window and yelling " BOW TO ME, PEASANTS!" every time someone entered his yard. He was often seen in the company of a large orange tabby that was rumored to be "sharp as a spoon".


The house was easy to find. All you had to do was follow the parade of deer, raccoons, marmots, muskrats, moles, voles, birds, goats and the occasional wildebeast to the location. Sure enough, there was the little blue house, set in the woods surrounded by animals of every shape and size. And yes, there in the window was a small, easily annoyed tuxedo cat. 


Upon spotting me, he yelled "Geez! Look over there! Do you not see the bane of my existence?? Go! Irritate that squirrel!" Wanting to ingratiate myself, I did as he bade.  Apparently, this pleased him, because an hour later, he ordered his male human type to feed me. He even made them erect a small structure with a blanket for me to rest in at night. This was fine, but it bothered me that he slept indoors, ordering me around, while I slept outdoors doing his bidding. I needed to change things.


I began to understand that the male human type would do anything for the female human type. Thus I began to ingratiate myself to her. Whenever she exited the house, I would mew plaintively and rub against her legs. I always made sure to act sweet and cute in her presence. My plan soon bore fruit and she began her campaign to bring me inside. 


One day, the male human type came out, caught me and put me in the kitty carrier. I was whisked to the vet where I was pronounced healthy, if a bit malnourished. Upon our return, I was given my own room and a new name: Jaq.


Since that fateful day, I have enjoyed all the benefits of being Cujo's newest minion. 


To the rest of his minions, he may seem a callous, sneaky, vain, narcissistic chaos loving, trouble-making little egomaniac. However, after getting to know him first hand, I assure you of this:


It is all completely true.