📝🐱🎂 The Female Human’s Birthday

Today is the female human’s birthday.

A birthday is, as I understand it, the annual occasion on which the household gathers around one particular human and makes a considerable fuss about the fact that they have successfully completed another year.

A perfectly sensible tradition.

There was, however, an immediate problem with this year’s arrangements.

The female human went to work.

Early.

On her birthday.

Worse still, she did not return to the palace until 20:00.

I am not entirely familiar with human employment law, but requiring someone to spend most of her birthday at work seems a rather serious administrative error. I had assumed birthdays involved cake, presents, comfortable seating and remaining conveniently available should the cat wish to inspect you.

Apparently not.

The male human, meanwhile, had clearly been doing his best. I shall give credit where it is due. Birthday preparations had been made, appropriate attention had been paid to the occasion, and he appeared quite pleased with his efforts.

Very commendable.

But there are limits to what a male human can achieve.

He cannot, for instance, provide an authentic feline birthday cuddle.

That requires specialist personnel.

So when the female human finally returned home, after spending an entirely unreasonable portion of her birthday elsewhere, I knew that I had a responsibility.

I approached.

She looked delighted to see me.

Naturally.

I positioned myself within stroking distance and allowed her one quick pet along my back.

Then I ran away.

I realise some cats might have stayed for a proper cuddle, perhaps even several minutes. That would have been excessive. A royal audience must retain a certain exclusivity, particularly on special occasions.

Besides, the important thing about a birthday present is not how long you get to keep it.

It is the thought that counts.

And for several seconds, I thought about letting her stroke me.

Happy birthday, female human. ❤️

The male human may have organised the rest of the evening, but we all know which present she will remember.

Yours,
Mrs. Cotton 🐱🐾