Henri has completed my portrait
A masterpiece, if I say so myself
Rarely have I looked more handsome
My piercing eyes
My Mona-Lisa-like expression
And, best of all, my gorgeous black and yellow stripes
We felines, indeed, are rulers of the Universe
I invited my manservant to pose with me
His name is Loti, Pierre
He came along with the house
You might think Pierre somewhat dim
in his turban and starched white collar
with his wrinkly crinkly mustache
He is not the brightest lightbulb in the chandelier
But his duties require little intellect
Pierre brings me food and water when I wish them
Keeps me well supplied with catnip
Provides fresh sand daily in my box de litère
My bed for naps, my toys to amuse me
Perhaps a ball of yarn
He will pet me for hours at a time
Or take me on outings to the Bois de Boulogne
Pierre asks for nothing in return
And I rarely show him any attention
He is ecstatic if I give him a single purr
If feeling whimsical, I might bring him a dead mouse
Our relationship, seemingly lopsided, is fair and equitable
My sheer presence is fully rewarding to Pierre
I have only the one misgiving
I am less than amused by his smoking
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