I was trying to get a picture of the new kitty draped across the back of the couch like some weird bear-skin rug, two legs on each side of the back of the couch, her tail stretched along the top. It’s so adorable that, if captured on camera, it would cause the viewer to literally die of cuteness. Which, um, I guess means I just admitted to trying to premeditatedly trying to kill my readers, which, in retrospect seems like a bad strategy for a blogger.
Shit, well, no wonder bloggers get no respect.
Anyway, I was attempting to take this adorable photo when the new kitty was all, “Oh, you should totally pet me.” And that was the end of that. I did manage to get this photo. Please note how her paws are in the “making biscuits” position. This is how you know she’s serious about wanting to eat whatever you are eating–she makes biscuits and stares into your soul, as if willing you to obey her every thought. Since I wasn’t eating anything, I can only assume this was an early salvo in her attempts to eat me.
I thought I was the only person in the house who noticed how unbelievably adorable the new kitty has been being lately. But then, yesterday, I got this text. (Please note, this text came from the other end of the couch upon which I was sitting.)
Also, warning: you will die.
Tiny Cat Pants 
Cat hypnotists, you’ve got to be careful. That’s how they get you. Then one day you notice that you’re putting food out for them when they demand it and buying the occasional can or pouch of tasty wet food too. Hypnotized.
This evening she ate my spaghetti. She’s incredibly spoiled.
Cat Hypnotism explains why I’m carrying bowls of cat food out of the house to each cat’s preferred dining place.
And why I’m compelled to share my breakfast cereal milk. I get a spoon of cereal, a cat drinks the milk until I need another spoonful.
Between the deadly cuteness of the sleeping kitty face and the wonderful flat cat butt, it’s no wonder we do their bidding.