“But it’s not my religion, really,” Chey said. “I am just the head of it.”
“I know,” I said. “I understand that you are really insecure about your divinity and need to let us all worship you so that you feel good about yourself instead of being in touch with your inner divine spark.”
“No,” Chey said. “My divine spark is just so big that it overshadows all of yours, so that people will notice me first. But that’s okay, so long as my getting noticed means other cats and dogs will be noticed and well served too.”
“I think that even a Goddess should be nicer to Momma after all she does for you,” I told Cheysuli.
“And I am nice,” Cheysuli said. “I follow the rules I have set down. Sometimes I sit upon her. Sometimes I meow at her. Sometimes I make biscuits on her. I let her pet me and rub my belly. I eat the food she serves even though it is health food. I do not jump on the counter when she can see. I do not scratch on the furniture when she can see. I uphold all the good cat rules that allow her to serve me effortlessly.”
“Wow” I said. “You do work hard, don’t you?”
And Cheysuli said that she does.
“I am glad that I only have a little divine spark and not a big one and that I have very little need for reassurance. You have to work way to hard to be Cheysuli,” I said.