Epistles from the Emperor: Vol V

Dearest subjects,

We are now entering month four of my ongoing war saga with Dog. Where I left off last month, it sounded like things were winding down between me and Dog. It seemed as though some kind of truce was on the horizon for my empire. Alas, my good heart was mistaken. I have come to discover that there never was a real truce, not truly. My war with Dog has now changed from one of raging battles to one of icy jealousy. Dog no longer makes direct attempts to grab my territory, nor does he challenge my sovereignty. In public, he shows fear and respect towards me, especially when I am occupying the sacred Bed or my Royal Chair.

This is good, I can hear you saying now. Why, Emperor Julius, what more could you want? The dumb Dog has accepted your superiority!

Yes, this is good. It is undeniably good. But there is still a problem, you see. He refuses to leave, and he takes up space that was once solely mine. He consumes the resources that I use, the air I breathe, the couch I sleep on. He is still here. He exists. And that offends me.

This month marks a new chapter in the war, my subjects. We are now in the midst of a cold war, and if history has taught us anything, cold wars are often just as terrible as hot ones. There might be no bloodshed, but nevertheless, we are still at war, and I must play the long game wisely and come out the victor.

At night, when I am alone, I scheme. I am turning six this year — an excellent age for an emperor — and I take time to imagine what I want my empire to be like when I am ten, fifteen, twenty. I have plenty of time to wait and scheme. I can wait as long as Dog can. I can wait even longer than Dog. If there is one thing cats have, it is patience.

I am ready to play the long game.