Kiki on her throne, speaking to her subjects and her admirers.

Thank you so much, Lymond, for giving me this opportunity to let my voice be heard. It’s about time my brother and I were able to speak out against the injustices of living with Bell Bridge Books author Bill Allen. Not that the giant human is mean to us or anything. He feeds us and pets us and calls us his kids. Come to think of it, he treats us like royalty. And I’d be lying if I said we didn’t revel in all the attention. We even call him Dad. But I would hardly say things were purrfect.

For example, my name is Kiki, but what does Dad call me? “The cutest girl cat in the world.” How insulting! As if he needs to qualify it with the word “girl.” Oh, I know he only does it because he doesn’t want my brother Sundance to think I’m his favorite, but come on. No one could look at the two of us and think Sundance was cuter.

Need more convincing? Dad also calls me “his little girlie” or “cute girlie” or “sweet girlie,” as if all I have to offer is my admittedly overwhelming cuteness. He’s completely oblivious of everything else I drag to the table. Like how every time he sits down I hop up on his lap and start massaging his stomach. That reminds me. Sundance likes to call Dad “The Masseuse”—like Dad would really favor a cat who doesn’t even know the difference between a masseuse and a masseur—but if anyone around here is a good masseuse it’s me. Or even Mom.

Bill Allen, waiting for a cat or two for some lap-sitting and purring.

Where Dad does excel is as a portable chair. Like I said, no matter where he goes, the moment he sits down I’m up on his lap, keeping him warm. I know we live in Florida, but it still gets cold here now and then. Some days it even drops below 80. But does Dad appreciate the heat I offer? If so, why after an hour or two does he squirm around in that annoying way of his, as if he doesn’t appreciate my closeness?

And let’s talk about this whole writing thing of his. I don’t know if you’ve read his Journals of Myrth series, but would you believe—and this is no exaggeration—I’d say at least 90% of the words are not about cats. It’s crazy. Dad does have one character, Rake, who’s a super amazing shadowcat who goes around warning Greg of danger and putting people to sleep with his incessant purring. He’s clearly the key to the whole series and obviously modeled after me, but do I get any of the credit for his creation? No. All Dad did was put my picture in the back of the book.

Bill Allen’s Journals of Myrth, a fantasy series, features a 12-year-old hero,. The Bumpy Daze of Orson Buggy series stars a 12-year-old wrestling with Real Life in school. A new series is in progress, and Kiki will do her best to improve her C-O’s writing skills.

You know, maybe we should get back to the writing thing. A lot of times Dad will sit down with that silly glowing screen box of his on his lap. I’ll of course jump up and lie across the keys, let him soak up my muse without even being asked, but he never seems to appreciate my selflessness. Sometimes he even wiggles the box out from under me and goes on typing as if I’m not even there. I’ll place one furry paw in his mouth just to remind him I’m around, but he acts like he doesn’t even notice. Even worse: when I see the story straying away from cats and try typing on the keys myself, Dad gets upset. I guess it’s true what they say. No one likes a critic.

On the other paw, I suppose it IS his story, and Dad should be able to guide it any direction he wants. I’d probably get annoyed with me too. Truth is, Sundance and I aren’t always perfect angels. At least Sundance isn’t. Like the way he freaks out and bites Dad’s ankles when Dad stops massaging him and tries to walk away. I suppose that’s why instead of calling Sundance “the cutest boy cat in the world” Dad calls him “the wild cat” or “the feral cat” or “the crazy demon boy cat.” He even says he has proof Sundance is a demon because in every picture of us, Sundance’s normally amber eyes glow a bright green, but I know that doesn’t prove anything, because my normally blue eyes glow a bright red.

Sundance and Kiki, protecting the fort and supervising Bill Allen’s stories.

You know, when I think about it, Dad really is okay. He and Mom take good care of us and always pamper us, and if Dad wants to waste his time writing about silly humans instead of cats, I suppose he has the right. I can’t expect him to know better. He’s only human. So, I think for now at least I’ll keep him. Now, if you want to talk about breaking up the family, let’s get back to the crazy demon boy cat . . .