DoY: What are you doing? Why aren't you petting me?
Me: Your sleekness, I'm sorry, but I really do need to get some work done here.
DoY: You're not working very hard; you're just staring at that screen.
Me: I'm putting together a submission data base.
DoY: (looking at screen) There's a town called Prince George?
Me: Yes, in Maryland.
DoY: This is outrageous!
Me: It's been there a long time, they didn't name it after the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge' son.
DoY: Tailless twit! That's not the problem!
Me: Sorry, your grace. What IS the problem?
DoY: Why is there not a town named for ME?
Me: There's an entire county named for you Your Grace (quickly white-outing the T) See, Du chess County.
DoY: (only slightly mollified) well good. Now, arrange for a state visit. I want to see my subjects.
Me: You don't like to travel very much Your Grace. Remember how much you didn't like going just to Brooklyn? Your county is much farther away.
DoY: Emissaries. They should send emissaries. With gifts.
Me: What do you want as a gift, your Grace? You have everything you need right here.
DoY: more petting of course. Even for a giant furrlorn bi-ped, you are particularly dense this morning.
Me: My apologies your Grace. Now, should I type the royal decree demanding emissaries, or should I pet you?
DoY: I can't believe you think that's even a real question.