Dear Cat:

We seemed to have reached another impasse, Cat. It seems, in the last few weeks, you have decided that if I get within 5 feet of you, I am going to develop fangs and EAT YOUR SOUL. This is not true, but since it keeps you out from underfoot in the Unholy Early™, I am also not inclined to really make an effort to change your mind.

I am ok if you want to be down here. I am mostly ok if you want to loiter around the bathroom. I am not pleased about your potty drinking; I know this has been a past issue. But Cat, this morning was REALLY the last straw.

Not only were you in the bathroom, not only were you crouched like a gargoyle on my toilet but when I walked by, YOU HISSED AT ME LIKE I WAS GOING TO STEAL YOUR PRECIOUS POTTY WATER.

First, I was not even going in the bathroom. I just about to leave for work. But seriously, really? Where do you get off hissing at me ON MY TOILET? If it were your food bowl, I could understand. If I were feeding you something and tried to take it back, fine, BUT IT IS A TOILET! It is my toilet.

I am going to start shutting the bathroom door, Cat, if this keeps up. Despite what you think, this is not a Very Large Cat Palace. While the bathroom may contain a throne, it is not Goddammit's Throne Room. You have your own litterbox, you don't need to commandeer mine.