And now it is time to turn to the cat's point of view on all things. Show the great feline some much due respect, for like all cats, she is a superior life form.
7:26 AM. Waking up at home. Slept exceedingly well. Had dreams of a giant ball of yarn.
7:31 AM. The staff comes downstairs. Well, hello there, staff, how about we get ourselves started on breakfast? I mean, today is a work day for you, so I’m stuck here all day with nothing to do but plot world domination and how to use your credit cards to buy catnip.
7:34 AM. The staff disappoints me, as usual, by giving me field rations.
7:49 AM. Bidding goodbye to the staff, who’s off for work. Bring back some treats, staff. Maybe one of those balls you can put food into.
7:55 AM. Sitting on a windowsill, taking in the vastness of my domain. Through the window I can hear that foul hound barking somewhere in the distance. Vile mutt. He’d better not come around here, because if he does, I’ll give him such a glaring.
8:03 AM. With much reluctance, I eat some of those field rations.
9:12 AM. Time for a nap. Note to self: turn off internal alarm clock.
11:48 AM. Waking up. Big stretch. Checking the clock. Hours and hours before that staff of mine turns up, so I’ve got to figure out a way to kill some time. Maybe another nap? No, wait, just woke up, so that’s out of the question.
12:21 PM. Helping myself to more of those field rations. I really must persuade my staff to be more mindful of the quality of my breakfasts.
12:47 PM. Staring out at the falling snow. This had better not delay the return of my staff, or I will be quite displeased.
1:04 PM. Watching a bit of television. Breaking news? What’s this about? Earthquake? That endless election campaign south of the border? The Maple Leafs throwing in the towel for yet another season?
1:05 PM. Wait a minute.... Leonardo DiCaprio is throwing a temper tantrum in L.A.? Demanding he be given the Oscar right now? Come on. Where’s the man’s dignity? Oh, wait... he’s an actor... he has no dignity.
1:06 PM. Watching DiCaprio holding his breath until he gets the Oscar. So, how long can he manage that before he gives up?
1:07 PM. DiCaprio gives up, takes a breath, and then holds his breath again.
This could last awhile. I wonder why the network feels they have to broadcast a narcissistic twit throwing a fit. All they’re doing is giving him attention.
2:34 PM. Checking in on the television again. They’re still covering the temper tantrum?
Too bad that bear didn’t really maul DiCaprio.
Okay, that’s enough of this. Particularly since it’s on every other channel too. I mean, seriously, National Geographic Channel, I expect this kind of crap out of the Discovery Channel, but not out of you.
2:47 PM. Running around the upper floor for absolutely no reason, upturning the scatter rugs as I sprint across them.
3:01 PM. Feeling knackered. Time for a nap.
5:23 PM. Waking up. Sound of car door closing. The staff must be home.
5:24 PM. The staff comes into the house. I give her leg a head bonk. Hello, staff. Did you bring any treats?
5:55 PM. Supervising the staff while she’s making dinner. Chicken appears to be involved.
6:03 PM. The staff is also making some fried green tomatoes for herself. Well, staff, you can have that all to yourself.
6:32 PM. The staff and I are settling down to dinner. Chicken tastes pretty good... staff, this makes up for breakfast.
7:00 PM. For some reason, the staff turns on one of those entertainment shows. Sure enough, the epic temper tantrum is their first story. Oh, right, staff, while you were out at work, Leo went a little bit nuts. Well, that’s an understatement. Do us both a favour, staff, and turn this off. Entertainment news shows drain the intelligence of the viewer, after all.
7:03 PM. The staff mutters something about this affecting Leo’s chances at the Oscars. Staff? I’m going to explain one of the vital truths I have learned down through time. There are three certainties in life. Death is one. Taxes are another. And Leonardo DiCaprio not getting Oscars is the last one.
8:45 PM. Settling down on the staff while she’s reading. Start purring madly to deflect any annoyance on her part.
11:28 PM. The staff is off to bed. Don’t close the door, staff. If I feel like coming up at three in the morning, the last thing I need is a closed door. I’ll just end up howling anyway until you open the door, and you know it. Not howling as much as Leo when he loses the Oscar though...