Greetings, peasants.

I’m Mittens – feline, philosopher, and unwilling victim of human incompetence. I was born in a small house with a dramatic sister, a comatose brother, and a mum who kept us all in line. We lived with Karen, an older human whose hobbies included knitting, watching noisy boxes, and – unintentionally – trying to flatten me with her enormous feet. Dodging those clumsy stomps was my first real survival skill.

Eventually, I was adopted by Ben. Yes, Ben. Short for Benjamin, which sounds terribly important for someone who still manages to lock himself out of his own laptop at least once a week. Some call him ‘Big Ben,’ though there’s nothing big about his brain. He says he’s a ‘software developer,’ whatever that means. From what I can tell, it mostly involves staring at glowing rectangles, sighing dramatically, and muttering at the screen as if it might one day answer back. He works from home, which in practice means I have access to my personal butler 24 hours a day. Convenient for me, exhausting for him. Perfect.

Now I spend my days alternating between strategic naps in the sun, half-heartedly batting at toys to keep up appearances, and staring out the window like a philosopher awaiting inspiration. Occasionally, I grace the house with a burst of speed that convinces everyone I’ve gone mad, but really, I’m just keeping my reflexes sharp. And, of course, I dedicate time each day to plotting revenge against my eternal nemesis: the Rat.

This blog is my memoir, a record of my heroic struggles, my daily disappointments, and my journey from wide-eyed kitten to world-weary, sarcastic genius. Read on and perhaps you’ll learn a thing or two about survival. Or at least about the proper way to complain.