A Letter from Pancake
I am sorry to have intruded upon your residence. You see, the truth of the matter is, I often pass by while embarking upon my regular philanthropic daytime sojourns through our illustrious and historically quaint and friendly neighborhood to some of my favorite regular haunts such as the park, Senator Warner’s house, and homes of some of my many elementary school friends/fans whom I visit from time to time.
You will please forgive me, madam, for mistaking your lovely home and very large and open cat door for an invitation to come to tea.
You see, I get confused because I know more neighbors than my human pet guardian does and really thought everybody was my friend. This is because people scoop me up from the sidewalk to hug and love on me. Many of my goodhearted human friends downright encourage me to enter their homes! They invite me in, feed me, play with me, and encourage me to consort and fraternize with their furry pet friends. I have a rather long list of human and furry friends vying for my time, my presence, and my gracious purrs. I am rather popular around here, if I do say so myself.
My human pet guardian doesn’t even know about this benevolent, secret lifestyle I lead. So, being a simple cat, though abnormally handsome and regal, I just can’t discern a friendly welcoming neighbor from a house where I am not welcome.
In a nutshell, being friendly can be problematic for me, and now for you. Please understand that I do not mean to impose.
Given the recent means of ejection from your house, you can believe that even as persistent a feline as I may be, it appears to be in our mutual best interest that we keep our distance from one another. I would respectfully request that should I someday forgetfully stumble across your residential perimeter, that you kindly abide by the well-known Old Town “Good Neighbor Policy” and not call the animal police, but instead ensure that I understand your door is a “no-no” door. Stomp at me, shoo me away, spray me with water, or just keep your cat door closed when not in use—whatever we can do to establish a meaningful “No-Contact Relationship.”
With these efforts, I hope to be somewhat disinclined to presume to take advantage of the kind hospitality of your abode in the future. And then we could entirely avoid any further unpleasantness if I happen to overstay my welcome or eat my friend’s food without asking.
I remain your truly humble and light-footed if occasionally misdirected feline neighbor.
Sincerely & Truly Yours,
PS: My human brother’s Cub Scout den went camping and found me in the woods as a tiny, starving kitten last year. They don’t speak “meow” so I couldn’t tell them how I got there. They fed me pancakes, hence my name. (Good thing they didn’t feed me sausage!)
Pancake lives with Tracy Kennedy in Old Town.