The Most Beautiful Cat Lady in the World!

By Eureka Hamilton. CEO of ZealAus Publishing

Greetings valued customers. This is the House Lion speaking to you, so shut up and pay attention.

The life of a CEO (Cat Executive Officer) can be rewarding, but it also comes with some very stressful challenges.

Below is a picture of Tweedle-Dum. She is my chief stressful challenge. She is supposed to be my personal assistant, but I have another job description for her.

 Idiot Number One.

Here she is, in the kitchen, posing with a rack of waffles.

How useless.

She’d be a lot more attractive, diligently opening a can of jelly-meat for her noble Feline Overlord.

I could go on at length about Tweedle-Dum’s shortcomings, but we’d be here all day. It is the most recent episode in the ongoing saga of her ineptitude that annoys me most.

Regular readers of my letters of wisdom will recall that I instigated a cunning plan to install Stinking Sheila as my Designated Interim Leader at ZealAus Publishing while I was away on a business trip. This worked and as calculated, Tweedle-Dum, Tweedle-Dim and even the Magnificent One (who is much harder to manage) accepted her presence in the evenings in front of the gas heater as an immovable fixture. The team even took to putting her in the laundry with me during the cold winter nights.

I was pleased. Stinking Sheila was pleased.

Then one day, I leapt up into my deep, luxurious bed on top of the washing machine, and it was…wet.

In fact, it was soaked through.

And it smelt terrible!

I summoned my intern.

“Stinking Sheila! Come here!”

She bounced in. “Yes, Eureka! Are we going to play a game?”

I ignored this. “My bed is dripping! Have you been in my bed?”

Stinking Sheila smiled hopefully.

I shot her a scorching flame of blue fire from my icy eyes.

“Don’t try and be cute! This is a serious matter. Someone has been weeing in my bed. Was it you?”

“Not on purpose,” said Stinking Sheila. “I just needed to go and I was in your bed, so I went.”

A CEO needs to be a strong leader who can be decisive in a crisis and dole out discipline.

“Stinking Sheila?”

“Yes, Eureka?”
“You’re fired!”

Her whiskers quivered. “F-f-fired?” she whimpered. “But, I thought you loved me!”

I assumed my most professional voice.

“Some betrayals, Stinking Sheila, are too deep to overlook. You used my bed as your toilet. I cannot forgive you for that. Pack your bags and return to the garden.”

“B-b-but I don’t have any bags,” blubbered Stinking Sheila.

“Not my problem. There’s the door. Get out.”

Was it cold of me? Yes. But sometimes a lion in my position has to harden his heart and do tough things for the greater good.

I went through and alerted Tweedle-Dum to the fact that my sacred bed had been defiled and she needed to fire up the washing machine ASAP.

Then I sat on my special chair, the little red velvet one that Tweedle-Dim found at an antique shop.

 I like that chair.

Sometimes Tweedle-Dum sits on it, and I have to send her nasty looks until she removes herself to the ground.

Outside, I could hear Stinking Sheila circling the house, howling.

 I wasn’t concerned.

 I knew she was just filled with flaming desire for hot water bottles and gas heaters, and honestly, I was happy she was suffering.

Serves her right.

Then I heard another voice yowling. I stiffened.

I knew that voice.

This next bit is confronting so if you’re inclined to nightmares, you should probably go and read something else.

It’s creepy.

I have…. a stalker.

I mean, it’s hardly surprising. Have you seen me? I’m a hunk.

Also, I have an elevated position in the feline world. I’m very rich and charismatic and sometimes all this is too much for weaker minds to cope with.

The yowling voice was getting closer to the house.

It was her.

It was Jessie Bell.

I slunk down in my special chair. If I could just creep out of the living room, I could hide in the pantry until she had gone.

And this is when Tweedle-Dum surpassed herself in stupidity. She came prancing into the room, Tweedle-Dim’s murder mystery manuscript in one hand and a cup of tea in the other.

Her eyes flicked from me, (skilfully slinking towards the kitchen) and then towards the low window where Jessie Bell was climbing up on the ledge to ogle inside Rose Bank House.

“Aaaaaw! Eureka,” squawked Idiot Number One, “she wants you!”

What a stupid girl!

Of course Jessie Bell wants me! Everyone wants me. I’m gorgeous!

But that monument of idiocy, Tweedle-Dum, wasn’t done. She flung down the manuscript on the couch, whacked down her cup on the TV cabinet and scooped me up.

“Oh Eureka, don’t be heartless! At least talk to her!”

I growled at Tweedle-Dum. I bit Tweedle-Dum. I stuck all my claws into Tweedle-Dum. I tried to tell Tweedle-Dum that just because she can’t get a date, I do not have to stoop to Tabby Trash.

And what do you think that blabbering fool said?

“Oh how sweet! You’re SHY.”

Then she opened the window and plonked me down in front of the ugliest cat lady in the whole world.

Jessie Bell smiled at me with hooded eyes. “I hear you’ve broken up with my granddaughter, you mean old thing.”

“We weren’t dating and I had an excellent reason to terminate her employment.”

Jessie Bell rubbed up against me. “Oh I’m not judging Eureka, really, I’m not. I know my granddaughter is just a silly little scatterbrained kitten. What you need is a beautiful, mature, age-appropriate girlfriend.”

She fluttered her eyelids.

I stuck my aristocratic nose in the air. “Thank you for your feedback and we will take it into consideration. Now, please leave the grounds of my company as you are not an employee at ZealAus Publishing.”

Jessie Bell glared at me. “I’m talking about me, Eureka. I’d make the perfect companion for you!”

The window opened. Tweedle-Dum’s gingery head poked out. “How romantic,” said Tweedle-Dum’s gingery head. “I’m a match maker!”

“See, your assistant thinks we’d be perfect together,” smirked Jessie Bell.

The time for words had passed.

I lunged into Jessie Bell and chased her down the path by the vegetable garden. Behind me, I could hear the shuffling of Tweedle-Dum’s slippers. “That’s so mean Eureka! Stop it!”

Stop it? Gladly.

We passed under the arch and down the steps to the lower front garden. I was upon Jessie Bell now, and with a mighty wallop, I sent her hurtling through the enormous Flying Saucer Cactus over the low wall into the neighbour’s courtyard.

“And don’t you come back, you shameless piece of tabby trash!” I shouted as she vanished into the duranta bushes.

Then I stalked back up the garden path. Tweedle-Dum had gone back inside, and I needed to teach her a sharp lesson about not meddling in her boss’s love life.

When I returned to the living room, Tweedle-Dum had lost interest in Tweedle-Dim’s murder manuscript. She was scrolling on her phone.

I strode towards her, filled with righteous anger, about to administer some fairly hot justice, when a sound coming from her phone sent an electric current whizzing from my perfect ears all the way down to the tip of my regal tail.

For the sound was the sound of a lady cat singing.

Oh what magic was this?

Who was the creature with the heavenly voice?

I had to know!

Tweedle-Dum’s punishment could wait. I jumped up on the couch and grabbed at the phone.

Tweedle-Dum snatched it away from me. “Absolutely not Eureka! This cat comes from a very good family and after the way you threw that poor tabby into the cactus, I don’t think you should be dating anyone! Also, I have a horrible suspicion you’re a bit of a philanderer.”

I didn’t know what ‘philanderer’ meant, but I did know I didn’t like her tone. I bit her, just to be on the safe side.

Then I went and looked up ‘philanderer’ in the dictionary, and I was so offended, I went back and bit her twice more.

I am not a womanizer. It’s not my fault the ladies love me.

Biting Tweedle-Dum gave me some sense of achievement, but it didn’t give me inner peace.

Every time I thought of that beautiful, sweet, cat angel voice, my heart would begin pounding and my legs would wobble like a packet of kitten starter food.

I thought I’d never get a chance to check Tweedle-Dum’s phone (she never seems to put it down, frankly, I think it’s a problem. She would do well to pay less attention to her screen and more to her boss). But eventually, her other great love, the kettle, distracted her and while she was making herself a cup of tea, I seized her phone and searched her history.

OH MY GOODNESS!

I have found the MOST BEAUTIFUL LADY CAT IN THE WHOLE WORLD!

Her name is…Misty.

A mysterious, beautiful name for a beautiful mysterious woman.

But she lives in America.

And my idiot assistant doesn’t even want me to know she exists.

And…and..

This is hard for me to write.

Would Misty even want a lowly CEO like me? It’s not a question I ever thought I would ask.

But I have found the woman of my dreams.

And I must know if I have a chance.

 I have to meet her.

Now go away. I’m a very busy boy and I just got a lot busier.

Next time I write to you, I hope to be writing from America.

Oh Misty!

Oh beautiful Misty!

Regards, Eureka Hamilton CEO (Cat Executive Officer) of ZealAus Publishing.

Written by Eureka Hamilton with some help from his idiot staff. Pictures of Misty are used by permission. You can follow Misty on Instagram here: https://www.instagram.com/mis.ty2014/