Cat sitting

I have finally achieved what I never set out to achieve: becoming a lonely old woman who tells cat stories. How did this happen? I don't quite know myself but it all started off with occasionally having to feed the landlady's cat called Prince. Prince is not only a little prince, he is also the most emotionally dependable cat I have ever encountered. His preferred place to rest is on my lap, on top of the laptop where he presses keys with the utmost delight and makes work pretty much impossible. He is super fluffy, likes to sleep on his back with his belly exposed hugging my hand to him with his front paws. He has also decided that he prefers my house to anybody elses which has led to an outbreak of major jealousy in the dog population of this place who are now also trying to enter my house through the window and are begging to sleep on the couch. At the very least they try breaking down the door in frequent intervals to get at the cat food. Must remember to call the carpenter tomorrow to strengthen the front door.