The cat who would be king

My cat runs my life. This will not be news to anyone else out there who is owned by a cat. But I'm blaming this all on my sister. It all started because the great white hunter always wanted to drink from the faucet in the bathroom. And, of course he always wanted to do that when I needed to use the sink, so I was forced to wait while he had his leisurely drink, because of course, cats are never in a hurry, unless you want to take them to the vet, and then they can run like lightening. But I digress. So baby sister tells me I should fill a glass for him and then he can drink from a glass, not the faucet. So, now I have to continuously refill his glass. Next step is to buy a fountain for him, which he doesn't like. So now we're back to the glass on the counter. But he only likes fresh water, so he has to see you draw the water, or he won't drink it. So, 10 years down the road and he's getting arthritic and can't jump on the counter easily, like he once could. So, now the glass is on the floor. But, it dawned on him this week that a glass on the floor is no better than a plebeian type water dish, so now he wants it back on the counter, but he must be lifted up to be able to drink. So, he comes to me, wherever I am in the house, meows at me, and I lift him up and fill his water glass. And all this started when he wanted to drink from the faucet. Meanwhile, baby sister has divested herself of the fountain she bought for her cats, but I still have mine. No wonder he thinks he's a god.