A Day In The Life Of A Cat

7:55 AM. Awake, thanks to the staff, who insists on getting out of bed before I'm ready to get up. Honestly, staff, would it kill you to lie there until I'm ready to get off your stomach?

8:20 AM. Staff comes downstairs. Time for breakfast, staff. And I fully expect something better than field rations. I am a cat, and I deserve to be treated as the divinity that I am.

8:25 AM. Despite my insistance that the staff feed me proper breakfasts, she gives me field rations. Again.

Glaring at her in my most sullen way.

8:27 AM. After much reluctance, I eat some of the field rations.

8:55 AM. Sitting at front window, staring out at the snow. Wondering when spring will show itself. Have gotten tired of popping in and out every five minutes because of the cold. Though in fairness, it does inconvenience the staff, my doing that. So in that sense, it's a good thing. Hearing distant barking outside. It sounds distinctly like that stupid dog from the farm down the road. Probably running around like a lunatic again.

9:45 AM. The staff has let me out after much demands and persistance on my part. Heading out to check if there's any sign of spring coming. Cannot rely on groundhogs to be consistent in actually predicting spring.

10:05 AM. Oh, wonderful. It's that stupid dog. Wagging his tail, coming right for me. What part of I don't like dogs do you not get, hound?

10:06 AM. Have swatted idiot dog across the snout. The dog looks confused as he walks off. Dogs usually are like that. They are, after all, a confusing species to begin with....

10:35 AM. Returning to house. Springing up on windowsill to attract the attention of the staff. Meowing. Come on, staff, open the door.

10:38 AM. Staff finally opens the door. It's about time.

12:35 PM. Waking up from nap in front of fireplace. Ah, yes. Fireplaces. One of those things the humans actually did right. Particularly on a cold winter day.

12:45 PM. Staff in kitchen making lunch. I take a look at the wall calendar.

Spring is that far away? That just isn't right!

12:50 PM. Meowing to pester the staff. She caves and gives me a nice bowl of milk.

Give me a nice juicy steak for dinner and it's another point in your favour, staff. You'd do even better if you just threw out the field rations once and for all.

1:05 PM. Time for my afternoon nap. Circle around three or four times on the couch before I settle down. Yes, it looks like wasted time, but it's an essential part of the ritual that is napping.

4:15 PM. Awake again. Time to look out the window again.

There's a squirrel in my yard.

Without my permission!

4:16 PM. Pacing at the window. Annoyed by presence of squirrel, who's nibbling a peanut. The little bastard sees me.

If there wasn't a pane of glass between us....

4:17 PM. The little bastard comes up onto the other side of the glass and stares at me. Then he starts chattering incessantly. Oh, sure, keep it up, furball. When I get my claws on you....

4:20 PM. I do believe that little bastard is sticking his tongue out at me.

Hey! I'm the only one here who gets to taunt anyone.

4:21 PM. Staff opens the front door for me, seemingly having had enough of hearing my low pitched growls. I sprint for the open door. Time to settle scores with that disrespectful squirrel.

4:22 PM. Okay, so where is that squirrel? He was at the window no more than a minute ago....

4:30 PM. Have searched around house. No trace of squirrel, though there are many footprints. Whichever one is the freshest, I don't know. It's times like this that I wish I had a bloodhound around for tracking...

Wait a minute. Did I just think having a dog around would be good?

6:05 PM. Roused out of a late afternoon (or is that early evening?) nap by the smell of cooking. Must investigate source of smell.

6:07 PM. Have determined that staff is baking a quiche in the oven. Looking through the window. Staff, why do you insist on mixing that lovely meat with cheese and spinich?

6:55 PM. Staff setting the table. Quiche cooling on counter. Can I manage to dig in without her seeing it?

6:57 PM. Sniffing at quiche. Oh, that's hot. Will have to let it cool down.

Staff sees me before I can try anything else. Picks me up off counter.

Staff, I was sniffing that!

7:05 PM. Staff slices a generous portion of quiche and puts it onto a plate, then places it before me on the floor. Ah, that's better. Still feels hot. I'll wait a bit for it to cool down. In the meantime, I can figure out how to get at that meat without eating the spinich.

10:55 PM. Almost time for bed. Stafff picking me up to take me upstairs to bed. Feeling sleepy. Quiche does that to me. The staff looked at me funny when I left all the spinich behind on the plate though. It's not as if I'm going to eat something that appeals to an incomprehensible sailor, after all.

You did good, staff. A point in your favour. Just keep up the good work tomorrow by not feeding me field rations.