Cthulhu’s Corner: The Testimony of Unnameable Cat

Cthulhu's CornerAre cats normally inclined to narrative testimonials?  This is my first cat so I’m not entirely sure how they typically behave.  From what I understood they mostly spent their time sleeping or confounding humans (both of which are things that resonate with me).  But I’ve recently discovered that my own cat, who remains thoroughly Unnameable for some reason, has been keeping a journal.  I’m not even sure how he manages to write because he has neither thumbs nor prehensile tentacles.  I’m putting a translation (the original was written in some kind of rust-colored ink in the language of lost Lemuria) of one of his journals up on here mainly to ask you, my loyal followers, if this is normal cat literature or if I should take him (her?) back to Dr. Hofflemeister’s Veterinaria and Taxidermery.

Today is the ninety-ninth day of the month of Yr, I have cohabited with the Slimy One for seventy-two of those days.  He is gone now, though I fear he will return before my working is complete.  He will smell of coffee, vanilla, and the human woman Arissa with whom I believe he wishes to copulate.  It is likely that his big feet will obscure the important arrangements I have constructed from rat viscera and litter.  He seems to think that this is mere clutter and not the important workings of a superior being.  All attempts to communicate with him- be it by rubbing patterns against his leg, pushing trinkets off of tables in a deliberate way, or biting him while he attempts slumber- have failed.  Is that the turning of the door lock?  I must go.


I was correct.  The Slimy One once again obliterated the pattern I had created from my kills.  I will try again tomorrow.  Perhaps he will better comprehend the meaning of what I am attempting if I place one of the rat bodies on his pillow.


I am finding it difficult to function in this environment.  Between the lumbering of the Slimy One and the growing bureaucratic demands of my flock of rat-slaves, I am only getting to sleep 20 or 23 hours out of each day.  This is, simply, unacceptable.  I can understand that the menials of this world- the rats, the humans, and the Slimy One- must suffer through the indignity of such but I am the Cat.  I must be at my best at all times.  It is also appalling how the Slimy One so often fails to ensure my continued health.  Quite often I have found that my food bowl- which is not nearly so jewel-encrusted as it should be- is less than three-quarters full!  Why does he so frequently leave me on the brink of starvation?  That is only enough food for four or five days at most.

In this matter I have had some success at communication.  I have found that he will respond adequately (though with a distinct lack of enthusiasm!) if I allow the cries of the Damned to echo out of my throat.  Again, this is merely an adequate response to a singular crisis and I must continually repeat the act.  I will try and make clear my displeasure next time by shoving the bowl off of the table once he has filled it.  This should clearly convey my desire.


The Slimy One came home smelling different today.  Less vanilla and a higher quality roast of coffee.  Also the smell of some other Cat or Cat-like Allegory.  He seemed upset about something that had happened.  This puzzles me because I can conceive of nothing important occurring outside of my purview.  Whatever it was, I could tell that he was in need of the comfort.  I climbed up on his lap and allowed him the pleasure of scratching my head.  I then clawed up one of his dangling tentacles before dashing off beneath his bed.  I hope this allows him to put aside his grief so that he may better serve me and fill my food dish.


I have accounted for another one of the Slimy One’s failures.  Though he has yet to purchase for me an adequate array of entertainments, I have endeavored to create my own.  Using the bones of my kills- rats, birds, the lesser cats who inhabited four of the nearby domiciles- I have constructed a fine gymnasium.  The enslaved rats- who traded their servitude for a pardon of the death that awaits them in my jaws- helped as well in the construction but the design was all mine.  I am lucky to have found a neighbor cat with yellow fur so that the Sign could be properly worked into the gymnasium.


Today the Slimy One took me out to meet some strange female human.  She took a great interest in me and poked and prodded at my regions.  I am unsure how to feel about this.  The female human seemed entirely undaunted and smelled of medicines and delusions.  I bit her a couple of times to inject her with mind-altering parasites.  Will have to see how that plays out.


The Slimy One went before a panel of lesser humans tonight.  He was so nervous before departing that I assumed he must be doing something of import.  I followed him, therefore, to discover what he was doing for me.  I was utterly dismayed when it seemed that nothing about his mission had anything to do with me at all.  This is rank treachery and dereliction of duty of the highest order!  While he prattled on and on before these lesser humans I amused myself in the back of the room with some of the other onlookers.  Unlike the strange woman with the needles and implements, these humans were much more receptive to infection and I soon had several of them building me a nice, cozy altar.  Had the Slimy One not decided to take us home early I would have been able to make a fine sacrifice of one these new subjects.  Perhaps another time.


I am at an impasse with the Slimy One.  He has learned his place, for the most part, and provides me regular feedings.  I have not yet trained him in the proper method of stroking my belly and he must be admonished frequently with clawings and bitings.  He seems mostly unaffected by the parasites that allow such easy control of humans.  I suspect this is because of some difference in his biology from that of humans.  I will endeavor to discover a working solution.

Today is the one hundred and twenty-third day of the month of Yr.  This passage of time concerns me as I have not yet completed my important Workings.  The end of Yr approaches and much will change soon.


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