The lady suggested that despite my smug mug and the glowing review I received in the latest issue of The Petentials Press, I might want to settle down and determine what I'm looking for in a bird (and by bird I mean a lass, not what I drool at the sight of when patrolling the oak trees out back).

And lately I've been feeling especially lonely when the lady leaves the house, so I do guess it's time to give this some serious thought to my ideal companion. So here goes -- a list of my desires:

(1) You should be a lap cat and like to cudde.

This is bologna.

I wait on the side of the couch for the lady to reach down and open the recliner so I can show her I want to play. It's not some hint that it's "time to go to the spa!" (As she says it in her shrieking voice the minute she notices a few very light scratches my nails have left on her hand.)

But she doesn't get it. Just when I think she's gotten my message and is ready for a quick game of Cat and Mouse, she swoops me up in her arms and locks us in the bathroom.

The lady went on a job interview today (she was recently laid off), and out came the non-toy, toy I enjoy the most when she's getting ready in the mornings--her trusty roll of sticky paper.

As she rolls my black and white hairs off of her clothes, I try to unroll it, just like I've gotten very good at doing with the paper towel rolls and toilet paper rolls. But the lint roller does not unroll, and it fights me with every roll across her clothes.

I should have known last night, after she showered and (this is key) blew her hair dry. And even after that, when I got three scoops of vittles instead of two it should have been a dead giveaway. But nope, come midnight last night, there was not a sign that the lady was coming home . . . All was dark and quite (not a snore to be heard), and I admit, I was lonely.