Hello, loyal subjects. It is I, Princess Gracie, here to announce that September is officially Happy Cat Month—a holiday clearly invented in my honor (though I graciously allow other cats to participate).
Now, let’s set the record straight: every month is Happy Cat Month in my kingdom. But since humans apparently need reminders to worship their feline overlords properly, September will do.
The Rules of Happy Cat Month (Pay Attention, Humans)
Refill the Fountain. Frequently.
I don’t care if my water bowl looks full. It isn’t. It never is. Water must cascade like a mountain stream into my pristine fountain. You know I prefer it fresh, flowing, and dramatically presented.
Snacks on Demand.
Happy Cat Month requires unlimited treats. I recommend a rotation system, so I don’t get bored. Chicken, salmon, maybe a suspicious crinkly bag or two—surprise me.
Lap Time is Mandatory.
Your lap is not “yours.” It’s mine. If I want it at 3 AM, it shall be so. Cancel your chores. Cancel your life. My comfort takes priority.
Photograph Me, But Respectfully.
Yes, I am gorgeous. Yes, you may take pictures for the internet. No, you may not use flash. Paparazzi rules apply, and I retain veto power over all unflattering angles.
Obey the Nap Schedule.
My daily sixteen naps are non-negotiable. Do not disturb. If I stretch across the couch like melted butter, you sit somewhere else.
Final Decree
Happy Cat Month is not just about me being happy—it’s about you realizing that when I am happy, you are too. My purrs improve your health, my whiskers guide your path, and my judgmental stares keep you humble.
So, celebrate properly. Fetch the snacks, fluff the blankets, and acknowledge that you live in my kingdom.
Purringly yours,
Princess Gracie ๐
๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ๐พ
About the Author
Princess Gracie is a distinguished feline monarch specializing in napping, fountain-water critique, and the strategic art of meowing until her humans surrender snacks. When she’s not supervising household affairs from her throne (a.k.a. the back of the couch), she enjoys composing poetry that remind her purrental units of their rightful place in the hierarchy: beneath her paw.