Enter Their Majesty. It’s Leo time. Red carpets, fanfares and foie gras all round!  After all that Cancerian moony moodiness, it is a great relief to welcome back the Sun and the unshakeable self-confidence of the Leo cat, the king of the zodiac. Obviously not all Leos are male, but all of them are definitely monarchs, All Leos think they are lions. They may look like a badly knitted sock but such is their self-belief and chutzpah, they come on like Aslan.  

Know your place, human. As long as service and subservience are perfect, all will be fine. In the best seat in your home, at the very epicentre of attention, will sit a sunny, chatty, sociable, affectionate, handsome (even if not) playful charmer, radiating top catness. 

To keep it this way, recognise that Leos are professional baskers (they can do 25/24). Do not try to initiate any unsanctioned action. Be mindful that Leos enjoy self-grooming (vainest cats in the zodiac, apart from Librans), but would much prefer you to do it. When preparing the royal meals, remember they would rather starve than eat own-brand cat food, and all bowls must be monogrammed. As for the litter tray, they won’t use it if it is not pristine, and their displeasure will be manifested with a deposit in, say, your sock drawer.

When crossed (you may never know what you did), Leos will sulk,  get foul tempered, hissy, aggressive, and possibly homicidal. As they are very volatile, you can usually turn this around with flattery, a better class of treat, grovelling, and embarrassing self-abasementt.  Royals are not like the rest of us.