I see there is a new Downton Abbey film, Downton Abbey: A New Era. The old woman calls me a Downton Abbey cat because - she maintains - I have servants catering for my every need. I beg to differ. When my "every need" includes a daily diet of prawns, the servants are sadly lacking. I'm living with commoners not nobility.
You see, people, that's my problem. Yes, I'm a Downton Abbey cat but I'm living in a Simpsons house - a caviar cat with a chicken chunks diet. It's just not good enough.
I need a butler like Downton's Carson to wait on me hand and foot so I can live a refined life as befits my status. I can say, "Bring me caviar, Carson," and it appears in a silver dish, not my usual gunk in a plastic bowl.
A Carson could bring me food whenever I needed it. When he was not serving me food, he could position himself at doors to open them at my command. He would never grumble when I ask to be let out and then sit in the doorway for five minutes and walk back in again. Yes, old man, I'm talking about YOU!
So, Carson, now that you've made your little film, please pop around to my house. I am desperately in need of a butler.