And so we come to that time when the floor and all attention must be given to the resident cat, for her point of view on things like dogs, servants, and early snowfalls...
7:25 AM. Waking up at home. Feeling nice and toasty. Furnace is on, and I’ve got myself nicely perched right by one of the heating ducts. Okay then, let’s get the staff ready to make my breakfast...
7:27 AM. Looking out the windows. Well, look at that. We got ourselves a whole lot of snow last night. And it looks like this is the kind of snow that’ll stick around until April. Or May. Or June. Hmmmm, maybe it’s just my imagination, but I could swear I heard someone scream just now.
7:31 AM. The staff comes downstairs. Well, hello, staff, did you scream for some reason a few minutes ago? No? Okay, must have just been my imagination, or my hearing’s better than I thought.
7:34 AM. Profoundly disappointed by the staff, who has once again given me field rations. I sigh with dismay and step out of the kitchen.
7:46 AM. Demanding the staff let me out. Meeeeeeeeeeoooooooowww!
7:47 AM. Out the door and onto the deck. Rather cold this morning.
7:49 AM. I can hear the distant barking of that annoying mutt from down the road. Any chance we can arrange an avalanche to rub him out?
7:50 AM. Strolling through the snow. Okay, that’s enough. Time to go back in.
7:51 AM. Demanding the staff open the door and let me back in. Come on, staff!
7:52 AM. Up on the kitchen windowsill, pacing back and forth. Staff, I know you can hear me!
7:53 AM. The staff finally opens the door and suggests I wasn’t out that long. That’s what you think.
7:59 AM. I decide to have some of those field rations. One of these days I really have to get my staff to seriously rethink her breakfast options.
8:15 AM. Okay, what now? Do I take a nap? No, I’ve only been awake for less than an hour. Attack the scratching post? Maybe later. Stare at the staff for no reason whatsoever? That sounds promising. How about taking to one of the upstairs windowsills and surveying the vastness of my domain?
8:31 AM. Staring out at the lawn. Movement out there at the woodline.... oh, come on! Dog, take a hint! I don’t like dogs, and I don’t like you!
8:32 AM. Expressing my loathing of that irritating mutt in a way that best expresses myself- giving him the finger.
8:33 AM. The dog takes his leave. Don’t come back, you hear me?
8:38 AM. Coming back downstairs. Staff, tell me, because I’ve wondered this for a long time. What purpose do dogs serve in this universe? Because I assure you, I don’t get it.
8:51 AM. Okay, I’ve been up for an hour and a half now. I think it’s fair to take a good nap now, right? Curling up near the fireplace. Nice and warm.
12:36 PM. Waking up. Slept well. Dreamed of that annoying dog being chased by the vet.
12:41 PM. Looking outside. Even through the window I can hear the distant sound of that dog barking. What’s got his tail in a knot this time?
2:31 PM. That dog’s still barking. I wonder if his bark is ever going to run out. And I wonder what’s got him this irritated.
3:01 PM. Examining the issue by some websurfing. According to this site, apparently dogs are irritated most by squirrels, vets, mailmen, having their tails pulled by bratty kids, and the French.
Wait a minute, the French?
3:15 PM. Perched on a windowsill. No sound of that dog in the distance, so either he finally had enough of barking at whatever, or his humans finally insisted he come in.
5:35 PM. Waking up from latest nap. Feeling refreshed.
6:32 PM. Having dinner with the staff. Shredded chicken and a bowl of milk. Staff? This makes up for breakfast. Just so you know.
11:36 PM. The staff is off to bed. Good night, staff. Keep the door open. If I feel like coming up at four in the morning and jumping up on top of you, I would prefer not to have to meow at a closed door first.