I Am A Romantic Cat

One of the things people may not realize about me is...

...I am a romantic cat.

I may seem harsh and cruel, may be thought of as a disciplinarian in my dealings with my inferiors. You can't afford to appear soft when the weight of the catworld swings in the balance on your shoulders.

Still, I am a romantic cat. And there are many things I find beautifu' and mysterious about the world. I'm no Shelly, I'm no Byron, it's true. But I do wonder: "Where does the wind blow from? And where does it blow from to?" I wonder: "Is cat made in the image of God? Or is it God who is made actually in the image of cat? You know, like God would be cat-shaped or something." I wonder: "Why am I so damn sexy? Is it my breath? My charming crooked smile? My spartan, austere, sturdy and masculine tail-stump? Is it my suavely tuxedoed pelt? Is it a combination of these things all? Or is it an ineffable something-else. An Idontknowwhat? Or as the cats of Paris say: "a meeyyyeerrrrraarrrh".

I am a romantic cat.

My job requires ruthlessness, cunningness, and razor instinctualness. But remember though, as I crush my enemies beneath my mighty bulk, that in the heart of this vicious, indomitable, terrifying killing machine...lies a romantic cat.