A Word from Her Majesty: Queen Olga the First (and Only)

Greetings, humans. It is I, Olga, your beloved feline overlord—Queen of the Couch, Ruler of the Yarn, and Master of the Sunbeam Nap. I have graciously decided to grace you with my thoughts today. You’re welcome.

Queen Olga

I’m nearly sixteen, which in cat years is somewhere between “wise elder” and “divine being.” I’ve earned every one of my naps, and I expect the appropriate level of reverence when I walk into a room. Or onto your chest. Or across your wet knitting project (really, why leave it on the floor if it’s not for me?).

Olga sitting on my wet sweater as it's blocking

Let’s talk about the state of the household, shall we?

My Loyal Subjects

I live with two humans. Daddy is my chosen one. I allow him to carry me on his shoulder like a parrot because he understands my needs (e.g., snacks, admiration, warm laps). Mommy is fine. She gives good scratches, feeds me, and doesn’t complain too much when I yell at her from the bottom of the stairs like I’m auditioning for a dramatic opera. Sometimes I need to announce myself, okay?

They also run some sort of yarn empire—I believe it’s called Greenstone Yarn. I find it very enriching. The needles move, I pounce. The yarn blocks, I sit. It’s a good arrangement. I assume I’m the true creative force behind it.

The Usurper: Buck

Sigh. Then there’s Buck.

He’s a younger cat, but let’s be clear: I do not approve of his nonsense. He wrestles. He pounces. He attempts to put me—me!—in a headlock. I don’t think so. I growl. I hiss. I give him the glare of a thousand years. Sometimes I swat just to remind him who’s in charge.

(He never learns. Typical peasant.)

Life at the Top

When I’m not defending my throne from Buck, I enjoy my simple pleasures: warm sunbeams, the rustle of birds outside the window, and sleeping precisely where you were just about to sit. I purr like a motorboat, not because I have to—but because I choose to.

And when the humans leave the room? I call out, loud and proud. What if they’ve disappeared? What if dinner is late? These are the important things.

Anyway, I must go now. There's a warm laundry pile calling my name, and I believe my royal dinner is five minutes behind schedule. Outrageous.

With affection (unless you're Buck),

Olga

P.S. If you're going to knit, do it with something worthy of my attention. I recommend Greenstone Yarn. I always do my best naps on it.

Beautiful Olga