Faith Can Move Mountains... But Dynamite Works Better

Saturday, May 9, 2015

A Day In The Life Of A Cat

Some links before I get started. Yesterday Parsnip had a Square Dog Friday. Krisztina had Mother's Day suggestions and summer advice. Shelly was reading and had the first part of an online novel. And Mark had a video link.

And so we come to the cat's point of view. Treat her well, for she deserves it. Treat her badly, and she will shred your pants.


7:35 AM. Slowly waking up. Dreamed of a massive field of catnip. Good dreams to have. I wonder if I can convince the staff into growing some catnip.


7:43 AM. The staff comes downstairs for the morning. Hello there, staff. I would like you to seriously consider turning an acre or two of this property into catnip territory for me. 


7:47 AM. The staff sets out a bowl of field rations. Less than usual. This makes me suspicious. Not that I want field rations in the first place. 


7:48 AM. The staff sets down a bowl of milk too. Okay, staff, I approve of the milk, but what are you up to? 


7:51 AM. And now she’s taking bacon and eggs out of the fridge. Having a fry up this morning, staff?


7:52 AM. A small plate with a couple of slices of bacon are placed before me. Ah, I see, is this the reason for the smaller than usual field rations portion? What are you buttering me up for? Are we visiting the vet today? Or are you having those idiot relations of yours coming over for a week?


7:54 AM. I content myself with eating the bacon. Whatever happens, happens. If it’s the vet, I can be thoroughly unpleasant when I get there. If her idiot relations visit, I know how to make myself scarce.


8:15 AM. Outside for awhile. I think I’ll stick close to home. If the idiot relations happen to turn up, I need to be able to find a place to hide quickly inside.


8:30 AM. Nice morning sun on the deck. Feeling sleepy. I think I’ll have a nap.


9:26 AM. Woken out of a deep sleep by a sudden, loud woof. I am awake instantly, springing up, startled.... what the bloody hell was... it’s that annoying mutt! Running off, laughing to himself, no doubt! How dare he interrupt my nap!


9:31 AM. In a positively foul mood. I was having such a good nap, and that beastly hound had to go and wake me up. He’s probably back home right now, laughing it up, thinking he got one over on me. Well I’ll get him for this... if it’s the last thing I do. No one wakes me up for no reason and gets away with it!


9:43 AM. Plotting and scheming. I suppose I could call in a favour and have the postman deliver a package that requires a signature from that dog’s human. That would drive the vile mutt nuts. More so than he already is.


9:57 AM. Staff! Tell me, and be honest... what purpose do dogs serve in this universe? Because their purpose eludes me.


10:06 AM. Suppose I had the dog delivered somewhere else? Such as Antarctica. That would be an ideal fate for the foul hound. Though I imagine the penguins wouldn’t be all that happy to have that annoying mutt pestering them.


11:43 AM. Movement along the treeline. If it’s that dog again....


11:44 AM. No, it’s in fact a skunk I know. Starlight as she likes to call herself. While she’s not a cat, she is a creature well deserving of respect and given a wide berth. We both don’t care for dogs. Starlight and I get along quite well. Just as long as I take great care not to startle her.


11:46 AM. Starlight and I catch up. I inform her of my encounter with that dastardly dog earlier this morning. She confirms that she also had an encounter with the dog, who, true to form, was being an idiot. 


11:48 AM. I make a request of Starlight. She approves of my request and says she’ll be back in the afternoon to carry things out.


2:43 PM. Walking through the woods with Starlight. We must be getting close to that annoying dog’s farm by now.


2:52 PM. Ah, there he is, rolling around on the lawn for no reason as dogs are prone to do. Starlight? Do your worst. Thanks for this in advance, by the way. I’ll just linger here long enough to watch this happen and then go. I know the smell thing on you tends to take a bit of time to wear off afterwards. 


2:55 PM. Watching with great contentment and pleasure as the annoying mutt gets sprayed by Starlight. The dog is outraged and irritated. Starlight walks away with great dignity and a smirk on her face. That is priceless. If only cats could operate cameras.... this would be one for the ages.


3:16 PM. Back home. The staff is out on the deck. Staff, right about now that foul hound really is foul, and no doubt getting a bath. One of many baths. Payback is a very good thing. I would have stuck around to say nyah nyah nyah nyah to him, but, well, I don’t want to be exposed to skunk smell. I can positively say that the dog had it coming.


5:25 PM. Waking up out of another nap. I smell a roast cooking.


6:36 PM. The staff is having dinner. For some odd reason she chooses to have potatoes and sprouts with her roast. She has thoughtfully cut up some of the roast into small chunks for me. Life is good. Particularly when you’ve spent the afternoon teaching an annoying dog a lesson.


8:55 PM. Dozing on top of the couch. It has, after all, been a long day.


11:38 PM. The staff is off to bed. Good night, staff. I’ll stay down here for awhile. And wonder if that dog’s human got all the skunk smell out of him or not. As I said, he had it coming.


9 comments:

  1. Do much fun. Top pick, the blanket one and the tell me again story.

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  2. Oh, my! The cat sicced the skunk on the dog! I didn't see that one coming!

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  3. I'm guess the vampire movie Grumpy Cat saw was Twilight?

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  4. @Lynn: isn't that cute?

    @Whisk: thanks!

    @Cheryl: it seemed very fitting.

    @Diane: thank you!

    @Norma: oh yes!

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  5. Lets turn that around really what good at cats for ?
    Love the last grumpy cat one !

    cheers, parsnip

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  6. My cats think that this post deserves an award...that you can share with the skunk!
    Jane x

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  7. You really need to give dogs more credit, but then I'm talking to a cat person. By the way, Grumpy Cat and Lucy Van Pelt-- priceless.

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