Hello, this is Fuzzy the cat. My servant, Lorraine, told me about a day when people eat turkeys and pies and thank someone called God for their blessings.

She said God is the one who made the sun and the trees and even me! She said he provides everything we need, like food and warmth and love. Plus, he made this place called heaven, where good folks go when they die.

My life is a happy one. As long as there are comfortable chairs, a soft bed, decent food and someone to curl up with at night, I’m fine. Lorraine is very obedient. She feeds me, brushes me and throws around stuffed catnip mice for me to pounce on.

She opens doors when I command her to, and puts out fresh food and water every day. Whenever I meow, she tries to figure out what I want. She doesn’t expect me to chase balls or do tricks, just be a cat. Frankly, this is something I excel at.

They call me a tabby cat, which means I have stripes like a tiger. Whenever I stalk through the house, I picture myself as a mighty beast in the jungle.

I like to sit in a chair by the front window and watch the yard for invaders. I have a special interest in chipmunks, since they look like moving appetizers. But when I see another cat moseying by, I hiss and make a big ruckus until it goes away.

And if the guilty party is a dog, I just totally lose it. Those guys are noisy and smelly, and generally a big pain. Rumor has it they terrorize cats just for fun. Plus, dogs let people lead them around the neighborhood with ropes tied around their necks. You won’t find a cat subjecting itself to such humiliation.

Cats may not follow directions like dogs do, but that’s because we’re too dignified. Throw a ball and a dog will act like an idiot trying to get it. Cats know better.

Lorraine told me she’s grateful to God for the house, her friends and her family—and of course, yours truly. Frankly, I’m not surprised I’m on her list, since she’s always hugging me and petting me and saying I’m a good boy. Well, of course I am, because I’m a cat!

I’ve been pondering the question of what I should be thankful for. I guess I would say food, especially the type that comes in little cans, which Lorraine calls “expensive.” I also would say the sunny spots in the house, my favorite chair in the living room and the places I hide whenever it rains, and there are explosions outside.

Oh, and my toys! When Lorraine first brought me home, she told her friends she didn’t want her place messed up with toys, so she’d only get me a few. Four years later, I have about 20 toys and I’ve hidden them all over the house for her to find.

I’m grateful Lorraine walked into the shelter that day and chose me out of all the other cats. She obviously has good taste.

I’m also thankful God made heaven, which I imagine has fields of catnip, plus cozy chairs and big dishes of food. I can just picture myself napping in a sunny spot, occasionally rousing myself to throw a ball for one of those smelly dogs. Assuming they’re allowed into heaven, which, just between you and me, I sincerely doubt.