Disaster! A second cat!

Portrait of a monster:
(note the evil eyes!)

You will probably say that he is a cute little kitty. Well, let me tell you that he is a monster, a twit, a wolf in sheeps clothing and a tormentor.

There I was, minding my own business one Saturday in 1996 and the man of the house came home with a cat carrier. Now, had that been me in that box, I'd have been so frightened that I would have run for the nearest hiding place on being let out. Did he hide? No way! He walked out as if he owned the place, came over to me, and was about to do "who knows what?", when I gave him a swat, a hiss and then ran and hid behind a sofa. I would have told him, right then and there that I own the house , but he looked to weigh about 30 pounds, against my 15. My people will tell you that it is mostly fur, but don't believe them. Just see how he torments me, while I'm trying to defend the property from my sofa:

Speaking of fur, I'm told that he is a Persian. Can you imagine? I'm from a long line of working cats, and I have to share a house with an animal whose ancestors never worked a day in their lives. Sit around in king's palaces and eat caviar. Indeed! My people call him Oliver or Olley or whatever. I think they should call him owley. His face looks like an owl covered with coal dust.

He is so destructive! He scratches chairs, rugs, people and anything else that gets in the way. I have to keep a close eye on him. He often sleeps on the cellar stairs where I watch him carefully.

Anyone want to buy a cat cheap?

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