A Pet's Eye View of History

A Pet’s Eye View of History
Svitak, Adora

I am the renowned tomcat, Hamilton of Mt. Vernon. I have, since the day of my celebrated birth, been companion to Martha Washington of Mt. Vernon. This being a common 1762 day spent laid upon the carpet with lethargy most uncommon to my namesake, curse him, I have chosen to talk to my lowly readers to pass time.

I live in a great house for humans, with tall windows stretching from the ceiling to the floor and curlicues of ivy wrapping around the Venetian-railed verandah, and balconies with potted plants on the second floor, but nothing for a tomcat like me.

Mrs. Washington is the typical society matron doing all sorts of goodly works and such, and takes great comfort in eating. She is more of a mother than a wife to the eminent Mr. Washington, who is absent most of the time, takes good care of the animals in her care, and usually lies back on the davenport.

They say that Mrs. Washington is a most impressive figure. Perhaps they mean her girth, for else I would say that she is the average president’s wife and do-gooder. Of course, I cannot judge too well, having not seen any other presidents in the fledgling nation, but she is no different from any other women to me.

A curse upon my name and my namesake. Hamilton! How did humans get to name us felines, I daresay? I profess to be an anti-federalist, myself, and have clawed a Federalist Paper on occasion. The simple Mrs. Washington, however, took my destructive intent to be adoring fondling, and christened me Hamilton with great ado. This Hamilton is a hotheaded fop with about as much genius as deserts have floods. Upon arriving to pay a visit to Mrs. Washington, he shooed me out of the way like a common alley-cat and paid less attention to me than a flea! Would that I had a different name.