Long live the king—and that's me

Terrible news in the human world, not so much in the cat world, however. Michael Jackson, whom my human believed to be one of the top two musical performers in the world, has died.

And now the old bat's moping around the joint, not feeding me and—all of a sudden—wanting to hold me. The worst part about it is she keeps asking me, "Annie, are you OK? Are you OK, Annie."

I think she's lost it.