A defamiliarization exercise--of sorts:
Letter to my Mistress
Dear Mistress:
A distressing situation has developed to a point that I feel I must direct my complaint to you. Ever since the arrival of that big, black monster you call your “handsome dude,” my nerves have unraveled like my ball of yarn. In case you have forgotten, I am a petite female six years his senior who has become accustomed to having access to the entire house and garden, yet you have relegated me to two rooms upstairs most of the time. You have explained to me that it is for my own protection. I appreciate that you want to keep me safe, but what about my feline rights? I have lost the freedom to choose when I can go outside, when I can keep you company beside your computer downstairs (which you spend way too much time with, by the way), and I have to wait for you to release me to go anywhere. Even though you provide food and music for me every day, you have turned my home into a prison, and I find this extremely unfair. I feel displaced as your one and only companion, devalued and deferred. After all, do I not entertain you at night with fistfights under the bedcovers and impromptu leaps into the air when you bother to play with me? Do I not keep you warm and let you kiss my nose? I think you should consider my feelings and rethink your strategy, for I shall never warm up to that imposter, especially since he attempted to rape me before you had him doctored. Even afterward, he continues to bully me like a pimp. I refuse to tolerate such insolent behavior and will continue to hiss whenever I see him. He is the one who should be incarcerated for he is a disgrace to the neighborhood.
I request that you honor the original terms of our agreement and restore my rightful reign over this household. If you refuse, I shall be forced to pursue other arrangements and leave some “gifts” for you to remember me by.
Yours conditionally,
Miss Maggie May
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