SNOW WHITE is my jailer. She reclines near me while I work, watching closely for the moment I stand up. The instant I leave my desk, she directs me to her feeding area so I can open another can of cat food and arrange its contents neatly on a plate. She’ll eat a few bites, then walk away and resume her post by my desk.

She is not here to eat. She is here to ensure my compliance.

The uneaten remainder dries out on the floor; two hours from now, I’ll throw it away and open a new can with a different flavor.

I’m vegetarian because I love animals. But as Snow White’s feeder, I’m responsible for the useless deaths of countless chickens, cows, and fish whose pulverized remains I’ve offered to Snow White and she has nibbled, then ostentatiously wasted, to prove to me over and over which one of us is in control.