Were my facial muscles capable of doing so, I would have laughed out loud while reading your letter. Clearly you have forgotten the most basic premise of our relationship, which is that I issue demands, not you. You want a companion willing to spend their time answering your yammering questions? Get a dog. Though, of course, most of them are not bright enough to craft readable answers, and those that could are such despicable people-pleasers all they’d do is write simpering, sniveling responses.
I am the cat, the true mistress of this household, and it is not my job to provide you with comforting answers to your boring questions. However, I am a generous and kindly soul, and therefore will answer one. Like all cats, I see little distinction between food and friend. So long as my bowl remains full and you show signs of life, you are my friend. That doesn’t mean I can’t occasionally daydream about a time when those conditions cease.
There. I’ve answered one of your questions. The rest are too tedious. It is not my job to salve your ego or to explain how best to spend your money. I’m off to take a nap. Please be sure to have the food bowl filled by the time I wake up.