Pollywogs!

So this cat here, he runs the show.  He is nearly the dictator of our office.  He walks over, and I lower my head over the keyboard so he can’t sprawl across it…he instead lays down on my mouse.  I feel weak, and I tell him how much I like him and pet him, tell him what a good kitty he is:  I tell him that I serve at the pleasure of Mr. Kitty, helpless to resist his demands for attention.  The one small thing I deny him is the ability to lay and walk on my keyboard…and I’m not very good at that either.

Butter flavored Crisco.  Mr. K-K.  Mr. Kitty.  Special K.  Mr. Key.  Mr. Key-Key.  Oh how we worship at his altar…

We have no power to impeach him.  We have no oversight authority.

He does what he wants…