Dear Diary,
I once had a name, it was Cecilefritz, an aggravating name and one of which I did not approve. However, it has been three days since I last let you know what was going on in my life. My people didn’t seem to understand that by pooping on their hooves it was actually a sign of affection. What I mean is, it was supposed to translate to “Hey, I claim you, you are mine now.” Instead my owners took it upon themselves to thereby be angry with me and throw me out of the house saying that it was a last straw. I do not understand this concept, as I have never eaten straw ever before in my life. My coat has grown long and shaggy, I attempt to groom myself but ever since I was kicked out of the house, it seems that some cruel fate keeps blowing the wind in my direction…maybe it’s the Pegasi, I don’t know, but I will enlighten you further on the subject when I have more details.
Apparently these Equine also don’t understand that what a litter box is, is in fact the world. The world is my litter box. It’s not some twelve inch by three inch deep plastic tub filled with sand. Just because I want to spread the sand all over the place to make the house seem like a tropical beach paradise, after my own fashion, doesn’t seem to get across to them. These ponies all seem to think that the sand is supposed to stay INSIDE the box. This has never occurred to me and I refuse to believe this old molly’s tale. I myself, am a Queen, and therefore, desire to be worshiped and waited upon as if I were a goddess. In fact, I am one. I’ve never heard of these so-called Diarchists, these two sisters who rule together. I rule my own world, and it revolves around me.
