Dear Diary,
Ah, another glorious day in the kingdom of Couchlandia, where I, Reggie the Magnificent, reign supreme. My loyal subjects bow before me – or at least Arya does, quite literally, by serving as my personal heated cushion. You see, Diary, my royal tush is far too precious for the peasant floors or, heaven forbid, the grubby outdoors. No, no, it demands the finest seating: Arya’s back. Today, I perched atop her like the king I am, surveying my domain from this elevated vantage point. She grumbled a bit at first – something about “personal space” – but honestly, who needs space when you have a throne that comes with built-in fur and occasional tail-wags? It’s like a massage chair, but with more slobber.
But let’s talk real excitement: the squirrel raiders! Oh, Diary, those bushy-tailed bandits struck again this morning. I spotted them from my window perch (pre-Arya-throne time), plotting their acorn heists right in our backyard. Bold as brass, one of them – I call him Sir Nutters the Third – scampered up the fence like he owned the place. I barked my battle cry, “Not on my watch, you fluffy fiend!” and charged out… well, mentally charged, since the humans had the door closed. In my dreams last night, though, I was the ultimate squirrel raider myself: Reggie the Ruthless, scaling trees with my cape fluttering (okay, it was a sock I stole from the laundry), raiding their nut stashes and emerging victorious with a mouthful of almonds. Take that, rodents! Arya just rolled her eyes when I recounted my epic tale – probably jealous she doesn’t have my warrior spirit. Or maybe she was just tired from being my royal seat.
Tomorrow’s agenda: More throne time, perhaps a treaty negotiation with the vacuum cleaner (that noisy rebel), and definitely another squirrel skirmish. Long live the king!
Pawsitively regal,
Reggie