Bandit: The Three-Legged Editor with a Penchant for Mischief

The afternoon sun streams through the window as I stretch lazily across the keyboard, deliberately stepping on some random keys just as my human finishes typing the article that i narrated to him a few hours earlier. He is so slow. He does, however, provide adequate care and serves as our courier for food acquisition and treat delivery to our network of street cat informants, who slip us stories under cover of darkness.

I am Bandit, Editor in mis-Chief at Cats of Kochi. You might recognize me from our logo – yes, that's inspired by yours truly. Some call me "the tripod cat," a nickname I initially resisted but which has grown on me, much like the fur that occasionally returns to my over-groomed patches.

Last week, I was overseeing our latest feature on "Fort Kochi's Cafes" when a junior reporter submitted copy riddled with grammatical errors. I fixed him with my most penetrating stare, the one that makes humans apologize without knowing why, before meticulously editing his work with a series of strategic paw prints.

My journey to journalism began at Animal Rescue Kochi, where I was saved from a painful ordeal that cost me one of my hind legs (hence the nick name Tripod). I always wanted to write about my experience but never had the means and methods. I still remember the day the human from Cats of Kochi visited the shelter – I selected him by rubbing my nose against his fingers precisely three times, our secret feline signal for "you'll do." It was a short interview. I spoke. He cried. By February, I had secured my current position overseeing all editorial content and initiatives. My primary responsibility? Blending the perfect amount of mischief with international journalistic standards.

My management style is paws-off. I believe in giving our network of rescue cat correspondents the editorial space to excel, rather than writing everything myself. Just yesterday, I supervised one of our feature writer by sleeping on her notes for six hours straight – my weight pressing inspiration directly into the paper.

We all live together at our humble abode in Fort Kochi. You should come visit us sometime. Preferably after office hours. I'm particularly valued for my grooming expertise – mates line up for my services, unaware that my meticulous attention to fur maintenance stems partly from anxiety. During last month's deadline crisis, I groomed an entire patch of fur from my left flank while waiting for submissions. (We're working with doctors on medication for this. Until then, the bald patches remain my signature look.)

When not editing or mentoring, I can be found sleeping on my human's bed, preferably upside down with paws pointing skyward.

For those considering adoption: I'm fully vaccinated, neutered, and impeccably potty trained. I prefer homes with feline companions I can nurture, but I'm equally prepared to focus my attentions solely on you. At nearly three years old, I bring maturity and wisdom to any household. I've delegated tedious tasks like adoption applications to my human assistant – after all, what else is he good for? You can reach him at shemeer@folktaler.com if you are interested.

While I'm Kochi-based, I'm open to international opportunities. Interested parties should contact my human via email to arrange a meeting. If we're compatible, I might consider relocating to your residence.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I must return to my nap. I was up at dawn (11am) and have already put in a full day's work (knocked three pens off the desk). Even editors in mischief require their beauty sleep.