A Day In The Life Of A Cat

Some links to see to before I get started today, Check out our joint blog for a Snippet Sunday post. And Norma has a Snippet Sunday post at her blog as well. And since today we have the cat's point of view to consider, check out Audrey being front and centre.

7:50 AM. Waking up slowly. This is puzzling. The staff is not in bed. Where has she wandered off to without my permission to leave?

7:55 AM. Coming downstairs. Finding the human in the kitchen. Well, there you are. I hope you're making my breakfast. I expect eggs benedict with sausage, home fries, warm toast with cherry jam and honey on the side. On the side is very important, because while I like jam and honey, mixing the two together  just doesn't work well. Maybe it does for someone else, but not for me. Chop chop, staff, get to it.

7:56 AM. The staff disappoints me yet again with field rations.

7:59 AM. The staff calls me fussy as she finds me sitting in the living room staring out the window. Well, if you got the message and started feeding me breakfasts as I wish, I wouldn't have to be.

8:05 AM. With much reluctance, I eat some of the field rations. For the love of Isis, these kibbles are dry...

8:40 AM. Staring out the window. Snow yet again. At what point what spring supposed to start taking things seriously?

9:50 AM. The staff lets me out the door. Just as long as you don't go wandering off and leave me outside all day, understood? 

10:15 AM. Inspecting the grounds. The birds are chattering away in the trees. They're watching me. I know they're watching me. I can sense their eyes on me.

10:20 AM. Pausing to watch the road. I see a dog down the road with the human. It's much too calm to be that annoying mutt from down the road. I wonder who that is...

10:23 AM. Hmmm, one of those seeing eye dogs, I see. The human is wearing sunglasses and carrying one of those canes. The dog is clearly leading her. That takes a certain amount of trust... not to mention a dog that doesn't get distracted.

10:24 AM. The dog makes note of my presence as they pass by, but doesn't bark. I must say, for the first time in my life, I'm impressed by a dog. Usually they run right over and slobber all over me like an idiot.

I don't suppose you can go back down the road and teach that idiot dog some manners?

10: 27 AM. Watching them continue on their walk. One thing is certain. You could not train a cat to be a seeing eye cat. We don't respond well to training. We're the ones who are supposed to train lowly humans to bend to our will, after all.

10:40 AM. Back inside. The staff is baking. Smells like cookies.

10:45 AM. The staff is busy putting a tray of dough together for the oven. More cookies are cooling off on the table. Her back is turned. Well, when opportunity knocks, one must answer.

10:46 AM. I snap up one butterscotch cookie from the table and dash off. It's still hot from the oven. Hot hot hot, but oh so tempting.

10:47 AM. Eating the cookie as quickly as I can. Must not leave any evidence behind. Cookie crumbs being evidence. 

10:49 AM. Ah, the perfect crime. And such a delicious crime too. It's not as if she'll miss one cookie, right?

10:52 AM. Lying on my back by the fireplace. The staff comes in from the kitchen and gives me a good look. I just stare back at her.

If I was a dog, my eyes would be giving me away right now. But I'm a cat, and therefore able to keep a straight face and not fall into the guilty eyes trap. It's a very useful trait.

1:55 PM. Waking up from long nap. Dreamed of butterscotch cookies everywhere.

3:30 PM. Staring out the front window. Birds flying about in the trees around the yard. They seem impatient for spring. Yes, well, so am I. 

3:35 PM. I must conclude the birds know I'm watching them. It's little use going out there to stalk them. They work in groups, after all, one of them always a lookout keeping an eye out for someone like me. Oh well. At least I can dream of a flying lunch.

4:50 PM. The staff is on the phone. From her side of the conversation, it sounds like that sister of hers. The one with the idiot husband and those annoying rugrat kids.

5:05 PM. The staff finishes her call, and tells me that her sister had another baby. Oh, wonderful. Another slobbering kid to come over here without my permission and torment me. Staff, your sister really married an idiot. And they appear to be passing that on to a new generation. At least you have more sense.

6:35 PM. The staff and I settle down to dinner. Roast beef for both of us. For some strange reason she insists on having potatoes and brussel sprouts on the side. You're welcome to them, staff. I won't poach those.

6:40 PM. Satisfied with dinner. Strips of roast beef always go down well. Finishing up with a bowl of milk. I'll say this for my staff. She does know how to cook. Why can't I convince her to make this kind of meal for my breakfast?

11:40 PM. The staff is heading up to bed. I'll wander up there sooner or later. For the moment, I find myself staring at the calendar. 

Are we really at the end of March? With even more snow falling out there right now?