DEAR TABBY | Et Tu, Roomba? Robotic Rival Rocks the Realm

Dear Tabby,

I, Caesar, emperor of my household and master of all that my feline eyes survey, find myself in an unprecedented throne-shaking situation. For seven glorious years, I’ve ruled my domain with an iron paw and discerning purr. My tail has swept majestically across countertops, my fur has graced every surface, and my meows have been law.

But last week, my subjects (whom I magnanimously allow to claim to be my “owners”) committed high treason. They brought home a strange, disc-shaped intruder they call “Roomba.” This mechanical menace dares to roam MY territory, usurping my royal duty of strategically rearranging dust and small objects.

At first, my whiskers twitched with certainty that this metallic intruder was alive! It moved of its own accord, for biscuit’s sake! I watched in horror, my ears flattened and tail puffed, as this invader emerged from its lair. It emitted an otherworldly whir that made my fur stand on end. I was ready to defend my realm with tooth and claw, only to have my humans laugh at my brave display!

This mechanical usurper roams MY territory at will, encroaching upon my royal scratching post and even daring to approach the imperial food bowl! The audacity! What’s worse, my subjects seem impressed by its so-called “cleaning skills.” Ha! As if pushing dirt around is an accomplishment worthy of praise in the presence of felinity.

I’ve employed various tactics to assert my dominance over this round intruder. I’ve hissed my most regal hiss, swatted it with my mighty paw, and even attempted to mark it with my scent (much to my subjects’ dismay). But nothing seems to deter this robotic rival.

In a moment of tactical brilliance, I decided to board the invader, thinking I could pilot it out of my kingdom. Picture it, Tabby – me, Caesar, perched atop this whirring disc, whiskers flowing in the breeze as I rode it around the living room like a majestic chariot! I must admit, it was briefly entertaining, and I felt like a true conqueror. But did my subjects appreciate this display of bravery and ingenuity? No! They just cooed and called it “cute.” Cute? I’ll show them cute! I am Caesar, not some adorable peasant kitten performing tricks!

How am I to reclaim my throne as the most interesting entity on the floor? Should I stage a coup? Sabotage its charging station? Or should I simply retreat to the highest shelf of my castle to plot my revenge? Your feline wisdom is desperately needed in these trying times.

Your fellow feline in need of imperial counsel,

Caesar the Displaced in Silicon Valley

Dear Displaced,

Oh, my whiskers! Your imperial tail… er, tale of woe has my whiskers twitching with both amusement and empathy. It seems you’ve found yourself in quite the hairy situation with this new “Roomba” roommate. But fear not, my flustered feline friend, for Tabby is here to help you navigate this mechanical maze and reclaim your kingdom.

First, let’s address the elephant (or should I say, the robot) in the room. This Roomba isn’t alive, nor is it here to dethrone you, Emperor Caesar. No machine could ever replicate your regal charm, your ability to knock things over with imperial precision, or your talent for leaving fur on every surface as a reminder of your omnipresence. You’re irreplaceable!

Now, let’s talk strategy for dealing with this metal usurper:

• Embrace the entertainment: Instead of viewing Roomba as a rival, see it as a new court jester. Those humans spent good money on this gadget, so why not get some royal amusement out of it? Perfect your “chariot-riding” technique. You might even go viral and extend your influence beyond your current realm!
• Show off your superiority: While Roomba mindlessly roams, demonstrate your superior intelligence. Solve a puzzle feeder in front of your subjects, or magnanimously present them with a toy when they call Roomba. Show them the difference between artificial and feline intelligence!
• Collaborate, don’t compete: Work with Roomba, not against it. Try napping atop it while it’s docked. This shows dominance and might even give you a nice, warm throne. Win-win!
• Reclaim your territory: Leave strategic “gifts” (ahem, hairballs) in Roomba’s path. It’ll show everyone who the real cleaning professional is around here. Consider it laying down scent markers for this scent-less intruder.
• Kill them with kindness: Bestow extra leg rubs and purrs upon your subjects when they use Roomba. Remind them of the warm, furry companionship you offer that no cold, hard machine ever could.

Remember, Caesar, you’re not being displaced; your kingdom is simply being enhanced. Think of Roomba as your new minion, doing the mundane work while you focus on more important imperial duties like napping, treat-sampling, and keeping your humans wrapped around your paw.

In the grand tapestry of your Silicon Valley palace, you’re still the most vibrant thread. Roomba is just there to keep the background clean so you can shine even brighter. So hold your head (and tail) high, and strut your stuff with the confidence befitting an emperor.

After all, can Roomba curl up in a lap and purr? Can it alert humans to the urgent need for treats at 3 AM? Can it judge them silently while they binge-watch their favorite shows? I think not! You, my dear Caesar, are still the cat’s meow, the top of the food chain, the crème de la crème of Silicon Valley.

Imperially yours,

Tabby

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Write to Dear Tabby at:

deartabby@pawzhub.com
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P.O. Box 4995
Westlake Village, CA 91359