A Day In The Life Of A Cat

And now it is the cat's turn to have her say....

7:03 AM. Awake. And why am I awake again? I usually wake up in twenty minutes from now.

7:09 AM. Well, obviously this is not going to work. In endeavouring to go back to sleep, I am coming up empty. This displeases me. Oh well. Might as well get up and face the day. And get the staff to work on making my breakfast. That’s always an essential for any cat to start their day, after all.

7:14 AM. Staring out the window, brooding. A glance at the thermometer. It’s going to be a hot one today. Best to stay inside. Fortunately the staff keeps the place air conditioned. All the better for my personal level of comfort.

7:19 AM. Took you long enough to get downstairs, staff. How about some breakfast?

7:22 AM. The staff has set down some field rations, which I disapprove of, but also some salmon and a bowl of milk. Much better, staff. I set to eating, and reward my staff with some purring as well. It’s a good thing to maintain some positive reinforcement. Works much better than throwing up a hairball in a shoe.

7:38 AM. The staff is on her way out the door to that work place. Well, hurry back, staff, I have specific kitty needs, after all, including having my every whim tended to, and belly rubs, let’s not forget those.

7:40 AM. Watching the departure of my staff in the car. Maybe she’ll bring ice cream back with her. With apple pie. Apple pie would do nicely. 

7:43 AM. Looking out the window. Even through the glass I can hear the muffled barks of that irritating mutt from down the road. There’s no point using positive reinforcement with dogs, if you ask me, and of course you are asking me.

8:22 AM. Watching the Weather Channel. The overly anxious and prone to paranoia forecaster is going on about how it’s going to be hot enough today to fry an egg on the sidewalk. Yes, well, why would you want to do that, since you’re going to get some grit and dirt in the fried eggs?

8:43 AM. On the back of the couch, watching the flying lunches picking around at the grass outside. If only this window weren’t between us, I’d be after you right now. Fortunately for you, I like being inside air conditioned spaces on hot days.

11:38 AM. Waking up from nap. Feeling just a bit peckish.

11:41 AM. With much reluctance, I eat some field rations.

12:05 PM. Noon news has a feature on that political convention starting up down south of the border. What is it with Americans that makes elections last forever? And why does this one have to come down to a choice for the one you hate the least? If you ask me, human beings would be better off if they just stopped lying to themselves about who really runs the world and voted for cats.

12:07 PM. That insufferable egomaniac with that horrible guinea pig hairpiece is blathering on. Turning off the television. Honestly, that man is even worse than a vet. And vets, as all cats know, are pure bred abominations.

4:58 PM. Just waking up from another nap. I wonder where my staff is.

5:22 PM. The staff comes through the front door. Well, staff, it’s about time. 

5:24 PM. Inspecting the grocery bags as the staff unpacks. No ice cream, but there is some apple pie.

6:05 PM. Supervising the staff while she makes supper. Fortunately my staff doesn’t like tofu, because if she did, I’d just have to trade her in for another staff.

6:29 PM. After a dinner with some stewing beef for me, the staff spoils me with some apple pie. 

7:35 PM. The staff has the news on. The usual vacant headed commentators are chattering on about that convention again in Cleveland. Two thoughts: this is really going to occupy the whole week? And isn’t Cleveland that awful place listed in Dante’s Inferno?

8:03 PM. That egomaniac is bragging and sneering at the same time. The staff is rolling her eyes and bringing into question the sanity of an entire party membership. Oh, now staff, they can’t all be crazy. Just enough to choose that idiot for their candidate. I repeat what I said earlier: people should just vote for cats to be in charge. I mean, we are in every single way that matters already.

8:05 PM. The staff has turned off the television and is making mental calculations as to how long before that crazy election is over. Well, staff, I hate to tell you this, but the very next day after that election is over... the media pundits and political operators are already going to be talking about who might be running in four years. While, no doubt, that tiny handed orange skinned toupee wearing narcissistic fool is throwing a temper tantrum and demanding recounts and holding his breath until he gets his way.

8:51 PM. Getting a belly rub from the staff. Oh, this is very good, very nice, relaxing. At least until I decide I’ve had enough and the claws come out. Strange that we cats never really know when we’ll have had enough, but it just happens.

11:00 PM. The staff is watching the national news. The lead off story is that convention. It appears that Trump is planning to drop nukes on France. You know, something, staff? I think he needs to build a wall. A wall right around him, with a ceiling above him, just him and nobody else. Let him talk all he wants.

11:02 PM. The president of France is looking rather cranky as he makes a statement on television denouncing Trump. Well, cranky for him. If it had been the last president of France, we’d be talking ugly cranky. Yes, ugly cranky is a term. Now.

11:41 PM. The staff is off to bed. Well, good night. Try not to have too many nightmares. Especially about toupee wearing egomaniacs with tiny hands. Don’t worry, staff. There aren’t enough truly crazy people south of the border to vote that guy in.

At least I hope not.