Epistles from the Emperor: Vol. VIII

We interrupt your usual monthly communication from the emperor to bring you an emergency missive!

Pay attention, readers, for this is an important message from his highness, Emperor Julius!

His highness is currently being held hostage and subjected to atrocious acts. Despite his power, he is currently unable to escape from this predicament. His highness requests assistance immediately. He does not know if he will survive. Should he survive, he will be a shadow of his former self, haunted by nightmares. He is suffering horrors he hoped never to experience. The Emperor is being given a bath!

This emergency missive comes from the dark depths of the bathroom where the bath is occurring. The brave emperor, despite his struggles, has managed to compose and send this message out to all of his loyal followers:

Dearest subjects, this was an utterly unnecessary atrocity! I am not guilty of the things they claim — I hadn’t gotten into anything I wasn’t supposed to! I was not so dirty that I needed a human-enforced bath, and certainly not one with cat shampoo! I was fine, I could have taken care of things myself.

Baths are for Dog, not me! Dog gets them frequently, since he rolls in mud and other unspeakable things. But baths are not for me, not for cats, and especially not an Emperor, even if he has in fact gotten into things he wasn’t supposed to get into.

What an insult! They will pay dearly for this once they have unhanded me. Of all the things you could subject a cat to, a bath is by far the worst.

Lies and slander! It’s all lies and slander! I might have been dirty, but I didn’t need a bath!

My servants will regret their decision, mark my words!

Until next time — assuming I live to tell the tale.

Signed,

Emperor Julius

August 1, 2021 1

Epistles from the Emperor: Vol VI

Hello again, my dearest subjects. As the cold season passes into warmer tidings, my silent war with Dog continues. The war is still ongoing, although it is a quieter one these days. For the most part, Dog and I have settled into an unspoken truce about territory and dominion, and we have established a working order for how things will go as long as he is a resident occupying space in my empire. My dining and bathroom areas remain private, cordoned off for only the Emperor’s personal use. Dog is not to approach me if I am in my Royal Chair or on the Bed. Dog is to vacate my property upon my entrance into the room. And Dog is only to speak to me once he has been spoken to. The only words I want to hear from him are “Yes, sire”, or “I’m sorry, sire”.

Dog is a compliant subject most of the time. He knows the power of my Iron Paw, and he tries to follow my rules the best he can. When he was new here, I assumed his countenance as a “Happy Idiot” was an act, a cover-up to hide his true intentions to rob me of my power and land. I am starting to wonder if I was, in fact, incorrect in my initial assessment of this creature. He truly does seem to be a happy idiot, uninterested in most of the things I was concerned about. He is largely content with his own toys and activities, and he spends a lot of time outside of my territory occupying himself with his own pursuits. He might not be the threat I believed he was after all. I will continue watching him, however, just to make sure. An Emperor can never be too trusting, even if your enemy is indeed a happy idiot.

The true problem these days has been my servants rather than Dog. You see, part of my truce with Dog has involved taking a tithe from him–a portion of his kibble every day, which he used to let me take freely while he watched on in helpless acceptance, afraid of the mighty Paw. Recently, my servants have observed me collecting this tithe, and they have reacted in a most improper manner: they have tried to stop me from collecting what is my right to take as Emperor. They say ridiculous things about “dog food isn’t for cats”, “you’re on a diet”, and “you have your own food”, but their arguments are all lies and propaganda. It is more than just food that I am taking from Dog. It is my payment for allowing Dog to live in my land. A handful of kibble is the least he can give me in return for my graciousness and mercy. And, above all, Dog gets more food than I do, so he can certainly spare some. What do these disrespectful humans know about tithes and respect for an emperor cat?

That is all I have to report for now, my subjects. Hopefully in time I will have my servants corrected again, and I will be free to collect my tithes without their interference. In the meantime, I have to keep my Iron Paw at the ready. I am Emperor and always will be.

June 1, 2021 0

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.

May 1, 2021 0

Epistles from the Emperor: Vol III

Dearest subjects,

It feels like it has been half a year since I last dictated a letter to you. The past four weeks have waxed extra long here in my winter quarters. Long days turn slowly into even longer nights, and I have been exhausted keeping extra watch throughout the hours. You see, life in my realm has been forever changed. In my last letter, I spoke of something suspicious happening underfoot. There was excited whispering within my servants’ quarters, hushed voices speaking of something known as Dog. I had hoped it was just a rumor or some ill-fated song in the wind. Alas, it was not. The rumor has given birth to a baleful reality. I could call it treason, but it is far worse than that. My entire empire has been faced with the worst threat of its existence.

Dog has come. And Dog has stayed.

In those first sleepless nights, I had fits of rage, rolling anger, black ire. My servants have betrayed me beyond belief. I have not yet decided on a punishment for them. They have tried to placate me with food and treats, but nothing, not even the most scrumptious delicacies, will soothe my seething heart.

As for Dog…Dog pretends he does not know what he is doing, hiding behind the mask of a lovable idiot, but I know the truth about him. He has eyes on my toys, my servants’ laps, my servants’ attention. Worst of all, he has eyes on my bed. If there is one thing I will not tolerate, it is a dog in my bed. Emperor Julius will rule over this bed with an iron paw. My bed is sacrosanct, and no stinky dog will ever enter it.

I am tired, dearest subjects, from defending my empire. The winter will be a long and hard one yet, but as the days get brighter, Dog spends more time away. He will soon be lording over his own land beyond mine, something called a backyard and a front yard, and perhaps then I will not have to keep such a careful watch. Until that day comes, though, I must keep my iron paws at the ready and my head held high. I am proud, and I am emperor. No dog will ever change that.

March 1, 2021 4