The Ginger Diaries: Entry of the Canine Barbarian

Dear Diary, 

The humans brought another canine to the den. 

It's been nary a month since the last canine left and didn't return. There was talk of "grief" and "mourning"--as if the humans expected me to shed petty cat tears over that smelly excuse for a plaything. 

Oh no, I was positively euphoric with my newfound sense of royalty. 

I was queen of the den. 

Finally, I received the choice bits from the table, I owned the soft human laps, I could shed my fuzzy orange fur wherever I deemed fit. For one glorious, short-lived month, the humans answered only to me.

Queen Ginger.

From my younger years as ruler.

The first imbecile dog who thought she was ruler. 

Then they brought that thing here. 

The new canine, the beast, the hairy hoarder of attention that stole every shred of joy I'd spent my whole existence working towards.

I thought that if I could only outlive the first furry fiend, I would have ultimate happiness, but

I underestimated the stupidity of my humans. 

There were whispered rumors of a new dog and some cursed place called the animal shelter, but I thought the mother human would never allow another canine in the den because she knew how much I valued her lap. I worked my queenly charms until I was sure the humans had forgotten love for anything but me. 

Then it came--the new, young, smelly, teeth-bearing monster that the humans call Heidi. 

It has ruined my life.

I can't eat. 

I can't sleep. 

My only solace is that the slobbering devil can't fit in the caves under the humans' sleeping places, and it is there that I find peace. 

The den is now a battleground that tests my speed and skills as I outrun the canine to survive. 

Here are some images of the barbarian:

The beast preparing to strike. 

 The mongrel's multicolored eyes. 

 The creature's ridiculous hindquarters. 

The mutt's absurd countenance shows it's aptitude for a life of subservience. To me.

Soon I may have to deploy the paw-pounding and hissing techniques passed down to me by my feline forefathers.

My only hope is that the brute can be forced into humble submission and that the reign of Queen Ginger may be restored to greatness once more. 

Viva la feline!