Tuesday, February 7, 2012

The Pros and Cons of Minion Management

It is generally considered good practice for supreme evil rulers to keep minions on staff. This one, as you know, is mine:

Threatening figure of feline mystery, isn't he?

Minions are useful when it comes to accomplishing grunt-work tasks beneath Supreme Dictatorial Dignity. Mine, for instance, is great for things like distracting that Thing's attention while I slip over to investigate (I didn't say eat, I said investigate) the dog food. He's great for flopping down right under an unsuspecting human's feet, effectively tripping them up while I make a snatch for whatever forbidden oddment might have caught my fancy. And of course, when it comes time for pure muscle, you can't beat a good minion.

The problem is, as every Supreme Dictator knows, minions can be so . . . stupid.

For instance the other day, when my Minion got into the Kitty Basket. The Kitty Basket, you must know, is a thing of a great wonder and delight. It is where all the catnip mousies, jangly balls, feather toys, and my beautiful Blue Rat are kept when we aren't busy strewing them across the house. It is also where Anne Elisabeth (in a moment of stunning idiocy) recently decided to keep my harness and leash.

My poor, lovely harness and leash.

So, yeah. The Minion, rummaging for a mousie, found them, both leash and harness, dragged them out and proceed to eat them.

That's what I said: Eat them.

What is it with Minions and eating anything that fits in their mouths? I ask you!

He chewed through my BEAUTIFUL belongings in about five different places, swallowing much of it (which Anne Elisabeth had the pleasure of rediscovering in the litterbox over the next few days). He destroyed it beyond all usability and, when confronted about his evil behavior, he said only:


And they call me the Evil One!

I mean, who does that? Who eats other people's leashes and harness and then just SITS there looking all fluffy about it?

Only a Minion, I tell you!

"But, Minerva, it was vewy tasty an' . . . an' nummy an' . . . an' I was hungwy . . ."

Yes, that's how he talks. With a baby voice. Pushing fourteen pounds of adolescent hugeness, and he talks with a baby voice.

"Mo-om! Minerva says I talk wif a baby voice!"

So there you have it, furry readers everywhere. Minions! What can a Supreme Mistress of Villainy do?


  1. You know, I'm sometimes shocked at how you speak of Anne Elisabeth right where she can read it!
    yours truly,
    Lady Chamomile.

  2. Oh, I don't think Anne Elisabeth is aware that I keep this blog. She seems to be under the mistaken impression that I am JUST an ordinary kitty. Foolish, foolish Anne Elisabeth.