Rule 1: Loud noises are to be avoided. I know many of our number are fond of getting themselves into scrapes, a habit I tolerate but do not share, but if you could desist for the duration of my recovery I would be most grateful. Any ruckus which does occur must be documented and presented to me within an hour or immediately after the floor has been mopped up, whichever is sooner. My preferred courier for these messages is Arthur, unless he is soggy in which case Sampson will do.
Rule 2: Any exclamations from me as to the certainty of my demise must be taken seriously and not pooh-poohed out of paw. Such responses only contribute to an anxious disposition and are not helpful, especially from those who have had no medical training whatsoever. Refutations will not be accepted unless they are done in a reassuring manner and with proper references to scientific literature. Amendment: I appreciate the attempt, Arthur, but page 12 of the Wortlethorp Clarion does not count.
Rule 3: All food must be served lukewarm and chopped into mouthfuls exactly one claw-width in size. This is the Optimum for Nutritional Intake, which is especially important when recuperating from an illness. (More details on this subject may be obtained from me by request at any time when this list is not in effect, or as regularly scheduled at 5:35pm on Tuesdays.)
Rule 4: I dislike physical contact when feeling under the weather and thus request it be kept to a minimum. No touching of my person
unless it is for the purpose of a gentle mopping of my fevered brow, etc. Amendment: I have reconsidered my position. Due to his behaviour in the aftermath of the suspicious licorice, Arthur now has permission to hold my hand.