A Day In The Life Of A Cat

Some links before I get started with the mischief today. Norma has some writing news and covers to share. Shelly is dealing with a mystery. Krisztina deals with Christmas decorating ideas. Eve is dealing with sonnets.  Maria writes about movie dialogue. Mark has a press release. And the Whisk has an awkward moment pic.

Now then, it's time for the cat to have her say. O Supreme Worshipfulness, I cede the floor to you.

7:46 AM. Waking up. Slept well. Dreamed of catnip.

7:47 AM. Wandering into the kitchen. The staff is already down here. Wait a minute, how did you get downstairs without me waking up? And more important, where's my breakfast?

7:48 AM. I sigh in dismay as I see what the breakfast the staff has provided is. It's not surprising, mind you, merely disappointing. Field rations again. Staff, you seriously need lessons in proper care for higher forms of feline life.

7:53 AM. The staff is leaving for the day. It appears she has that work place to go off to. Why she can't just spend her day with me is a mystery, but human beings are very peculiar creatures, after all.

It's probably a good idea not to go outside. I don't want to be stuck outside all day.

7:58 AM. The staff says goodbye as she's going off. Yes, well, bring back some tuna.

8:31 AM. Sitting on the front windowsill. I can hear the muffled barking of that annoying mutt from down the road. Stupid dog. I have said it many, many times, but I'll never understand what purpose dogs serve in this world.

9:10 AM. After much reluctance, I have eaten some of the field rations. Time for a nap. 

2:17 PM. Waking up. Slept exceedingly well. Is it snowing outside?

4:42 PM. Watching a bit of television. Wonderful. The anchor on the Weather Network is losing his mind  because of a little cold weather.

5:17 PM. The staff is returning home. It's about time, staff. Did you bring the tuna?

5:18 PM. No trace of tuna on her, but for some reason she's turning on those Christmas lights she strung up outside. I stare at the colours. 

Is this some kind of way to distract me from the lack of tuna?

5:21 PM. The staff is going on and on about her day. Yes, that's fine and all, staff, but where's my tuna?

5:46 PM. The staff is busy cooking dinner. I must accept the inevitable. She didn't bring tuna home with her.

6:36 PM. The staff and I settle down to dinner. She's having something called shepherd's pie. I'm having some of the ground beef with a side of milk. Staff, I really don't understand why you want to mess up all that nice tasty beef with that mix of potatoes and peas and gravy.

6:54 PM. The staff is doing the dishes. I of course am engaged in strict supervision. Humans require that, or they start goofing off.

7:36 PM. For some inexplicable reason the staff is putting out some more Christmas decorations in the house. Just as long as you don't get any ideas about that Christmas tree yet, staff. We still have, what? Three weeks until Christmas.

And no watching A Christmas Story either! That kid with the glasses just looks plain evil.

7:50 PM. The staff starts watching A Christmas Story. I sigh and roll my eyes. I really do need to destroy that DVD.

Well, I'll have no part of this. I'm going upstairs. We'll talk again, staff, when you decide to develop good taste in Christmas movies. 

9:37 PM. Feeling a bit peckish. Coming downstairs. Wait, the movie still isn't over? Little Ralphie should shoot his best friend with that air rifle and get sent to St. Hannibal's Reformatory School For Awful Miscreants until he's eighteen.

9:38 AM. Staff, honestly! What it is about this movie that appeals to you is beyond me! Can't you see how evil that kid is? You know, it wouldn't surprise me if Ralphie grew up to become a vet.

10:05 PM. Well, the stupid movie's finally over. Staff, why don't we watch Die Hard tomorrow night? That's a much better Christmas movie.

And if you even think of putting on It's A Wonderful Life, I'll have to find a new staff.

10:37 PM. The staff is listening to Christmas music. How does Grandma getting run over by reindeer qualify as Christmas music anyway? We're talking about something that would cause catastrophic bodily damage to the body of someone in their elderly years followed by a painful death.... not a joyful holiday tune.

11:06 PM. Watching the national news with the staff. It seems the price of catnip is not high on the priorities of national news programs. That's such a disappointment.

11:23 PM. That Phillips fellow with Environment Canada is back on the air, predicting that the winter might be unusually cold or perhaps mild. It's uncertain as to which way it'll go. Wonderful prognosis, you twit. We can count on weather forecasters to never commit to anything.

11:24 PM. The interviewer asks Phillips if he can give any definitive answers. All he says is "not at this time." Do you honestly expect this guy to actually back up a real prediction?

11:37 PM. The staff is off to bed. Just leave that door open, staff. I'll be up sooner or later.

1:15 AM. Jumping up onto the bed. The staff seems to be asleep... but her foot's moving under the blankets. Rather reminds me of a mouse. Therefore I must pounce on it. It's a matter of kitty integrity to do such things.

Pounce in five, four, three, two, one, and POUNCE!

The staff bolts upright in bed just as I land on top of her foot. Gotcha!