h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

My cat is all things to me. He's my best friend. My anchor of sanity. My downer-busting happiness machine. We've been together for twelve years and he's about fourteen years old. By cat aging terms, this makes him between 60-90 depending what method you work it on.
60-90!?! Nonsense. Utter crap. Duke is as lively, cheeky, crafty and daring as the day we brought him back from the home. He causes as much, if not more, mayhem than he ever did. Cat aging has bypassed my feline side-kick and he proves it everyday.
And yet, sometimes I wonder who the Side-kick is? I do a lot more stuff at his request than he does at mine. Who's the finely trained servant in this relationship?
I'd love to be able to play Chess with the Duke. I'm sure that, if I could just get his attention long enough to teach him the rules, he'd be able to hammer Deep Blue in six moves. It gives me a damn good idea for an article when I've got one or two other projects finnished...