7:20 AM. Waking up as the staff passes through the living room. She's getting ready to go off to that "work" place. Staff, you really ought to spend your every waking hour looking after my wants and needs.
7:25 AM. Sauntering into kitchen. Meow at the staff to get her attention. Breakfast would be ideal, staff, and for the sixth time this week, let's refrain from the field rations routine, shall we?
7:27 AM. The staff pours me a bowl of field rations. I sigh in utter dismay.
7:29 AM. After some reluctance and glaring at the staff, I finally start eating some of the field rations.
7:31 AM. The staff lets me out the door. Now, staff, I know you have that work place to go off to, so it would be preferable to me if you'd just leave the door open so I can come and go as I please.
7:40 AM. Sniffing at things as I wander at will. The life of a cat is an infinitely complex world of.... ooo! Dragonfly!
7:42 AM. Despite my attempts, the dragonfly has evaded me. How on earth do those things fly that well?
8:20 AM. Wandering through the fields. The quiet of the morning is shattered by the distant sound of that stupid dog from down the road.
If that dog gets anywhere near me today, the claws come out, and I'm in super-freak-kitty mode.
8:50 AM. I can still hear that mutt off in the distance, barking like the insane asylum patient he ought to be. At least he's not coming this way.
9:06 AM. The barking is interrupted by a loud yelp and whining. Hmmm, I wonder if that dog just got himself into trouble?
If he did.... good!
9:30 AM. Returning home. The car is not present. And the door is closed.
Staff, what did I tell you about leaving the door open? Now I'm stuck out here all day.
9:52 AM. Hmmm, I could go on over to Mrs. McIntyre and con her into giving me shelter for a few hours... not to mention some treats.
10:05 AM. Arrival at the McIntyre home. Meowing at the window.
10:07 AM. Mrs. McIntyre cheerfully greets me and lets me in. She's good people. For a human.
12:35 PM. Waking up from nap in the living room at the McIntyre home. Meowing at Mrs. McIntyre. We carry on a conversation. A shame she doesn't speak cat, because she'd know I was asking her to give tips to my staff on better treatment of me.
Would there be anything by chance for lunch?
12:40 PM. Mrs. McIntyre and I have lunch. She's having soup, of all things. No thanks, I don't think I quite understand the appeal of carrot soup, but whatever floats your boat. I do appreciate the bowl of milk and the sausages you've made for me. You really ought to have a word with my staff. She needs to learn a few things about service. Particularly in the breakfast department.
2:35 PM. Well, perhaps it's time to go home. It'll still be awhile before the staff returns home, but one cannot abuse the hospitality one receives, after all.
It's been a pleasure, Mrs. McIntyre.
3:10 PM. Nearing home. I happen to cross paths with a porcupine. I know full well to not approach one of those. I greet him with most cordial tones. He informs me he had a run in with a dog this morning. I inquire as to the description. Sure enough, it was that stupid dog from down the road.
The porcupine informs me the dog ran off yelping after getting a few quills in the snout.
Good, very good indeed.
5:25 PM. Waiting at front door when the staff finally comes home. I give her a glare. You'd better make up for it with some spoils for dinner, staff. And I'd better not let you smell my breath. I've still got the taste of Hungarian sausage from lunch with Mrs. McIntyre..
6:35 PM. The staff gives me a plate of what she's having. Quiche, with plenty of beef and cheese. Well, staff, I do appreciate the effort you make into dinner. Now if we could just get you to do the same with breakfast.
9:00 PM. The staff and I sit down to watch television. I suggest she switch over to the Discovery Channel for a special on mountain lions. Instead she chooses one of those specialty channels. Something called Sunset Of The Dead.
What kind of movie could possibly involve Ving Rhames, Kirsten Dunst, John Hawkes, Jon Voight, and that insufferable nitwit Shia LaBoeuf?
9:10 PM. Oh, I get it. It's one of those zombie movies. Deranged walking dead types tearing apart the living for food.
Staff, you're really going to watch something like this at this time of night? Do you realize what this'll do to your sleep cycle?
9:12 PM. Shia LaBoeuf is such an idiot. Why does anyone give him a part? There's no depth to him at all. He just looks perpetually confused.
Probably because he is perpetually confused.
I hope he dies in a horrible way.
9:20 PM. Oh, there's John Hawkes. Kind of crazy in this film, but that's the kind of character who survives a zombie film. That and Ving Rhames, who, for a human, is a pretty tough customer. Yes, those two are going to get out of this, no problem. Mark my words.
9:25 PM. Okay, seriously, we haven't seen LaDoofus bite the bullet yet. Just some extras, at a distance.
When do we get to his well deserved death, staff?
To Be Continued....