I don’t mean to complain, and I never, ever do. Except now. I am really annoyed I wasn’t allowed to go on the Alvarez Family’s latest adventure, The Drop-Dead Temple of Doom. True, I am in a scene or two at home, but that’s not the same. After all, I am a star. Every cat is. And I love doom. I think it has something to do with treats. Or maybe salmon. I can’t remember.

But what I do know is I should have been allowed to go on this trip to visit the ancient Mayans in the Guatemalan jungle. Lee, my mastress (or so she thinks) said that because there were a lot of big cats out there, I couldn’t go. Too dangerous. How insulting! Just the other day I chased Jimmy Buffetpaws off the front porch with merely a growl. True, it was from behind the screen door, but I am a big, strapping boy. That’s exactly what the vet said the other day when he gave me my booster shot. He said I was a big, strapping boy. He added the word “sweet” in there somewhere, but I wasn’t listening. I was eating my treat that might have had the word doom in it.

Anyway, I have never met a panther or a tiger, or a puma but I understand they, too, purr just like me. So how bad can they be? And when my person mom met up with one of them, I should have been there to protect her. And when she got trapped in the king’s tomb, whatever that is, I would have saved her. Through every adventure she’s had in the past, I have been there helping out. And now suddenly, because of a couple of pussycats that live in the jungle, I’m not allowed to go.

Well, I will show them. I will stretch out right here in the sun and after a long nap, I will let Tio give me some treats. Which I will try to eat reluctantly just to show how put out I am. Unless it’s salmon. I love salmon.

The Drop-Dead Temple of Doom, on preorder until September 15th for only $2.99. My mommy says that’s a great deal, even though I wasn’t allowed to go with her. I did mention that, didn’t I?