And now it is time for Her Supreme Grace the cat to have her say.
7:21 AM. Waking up at home. Taking a big stretch. Sounds of the staff upstairs getting herself ready for the day. Now then, this being a weekend, that means she’s at home and can thus cater to my every whim as needed. So much the better. I expect belly rubs.
7:23 AM. A look out the front windows. Light snow. Early this year. I expect that might mean we’ll have a long winter. The staff, for whatever reason, will be filling bird feeders all season long, which will give me plenty of chances to gaze out at flying lunches.
7:27 AM. The staff finally comes downstairs. Well, there you are, staff. I don’t know what you’ve been doing, but I’ve been busily expecting breakfast in the six very long minutes since I woke up. Now don’t you dare disappoint me.
7:31 AM. Settling down to breakfast. Milk and tuna suit me nicely. For whatever reason, the staff persists in putting down a bowl of field rations as well. I shall ignore that to my heart’s content.
7:36 AM. Demanding that the door be open. I feel like getting a breath of fresh air, staff, but rest assured, I won’t be going far, so don’t get any ideas about going out and running errands, is that understood? First, I do not want to be locked outside for hours on end. Second, I expect you to spend the day spoiling me rotten and catering to my whims. So do we have an understanding here or what?
7:41 AM. Sitting out on the deck, surveying the vastness of my domain. All is well in my world. Which, unfortunately, is often when something goes horribly wrong, like that annoying mutt startling me, or a surprise visit to the vet, or those idiot relations of my staff showing up uninvited.
7:44 AM. I can hear the distant barking of that irritating hound off somewhere. Perhaps chasing his tail, as dogs are given to do. I really don’t understand dogs. They are a peculiar and perplexing bundle of weirdness. I suppose it’s possible they think the same thing about us.
7:55 AM. Listening to the dog’s continued barking. Much more irritated, much less happy in tone. Which probably means he’s just had a near encounter with a squirrel, which must be laughing at him right this minute. I’d bet catnip on it.
7:58 AM. Continuing to listen to the frantic barks of that irritating hound. Musing on the animosity dogs have towards squirrels. Well, if you hunted them stealthily as opposed to running straight at them and barking your bloody heads off, you might actually catch one, but no, that never occurs to you, does it?
8:05 AM. The dog continues to bark in the distance. Obviously hasn’t given up yet. If you ask me, and of course you are asking me, dogs are so rarely capable of wisdom. Oh, there are rarities, such as that other dog in the area. At least he shows deference and respects my boundaries. Though I have no idea why he thinks Spike, Tormentor of Squirrels, is a good title to carry around in the world.
8:09 AM. The barking has quieted down. Perhaps the annoying mutt has finally given up.
8:12 AM. Up on the window sill, meowing incessantly, demanding to be let back in. Staff! Open the back door, this instant!
8:13 AM. The staff finally gets around to opening my door and letting me in. I deliver a head bonk to the legs to express my approval.
8:37 AM. Settling down for a nap. One can never have too many naps in a day, right?
11:41 AM. Waking up from my nap. Feeling rather peckish. Well, it is getting near lunch.
11:43 AM. Irritated to discover that my staff has left the premises somehow without my waking up, let alone without my express permission. As I am feeling hungry, I hesitantly settle the matter by eating some of those field rations.
1:27 PM. Staring out the front windows. Waiting on the staff’s return. Brooding. Brooding. And brooding some more.
1:35 PM. I can hear the sounds of that annoying mutt barking again in the distance. From the direction, it sounds like he’s at home, and he’s very annoyed. I’d be annoyed if I were a dog too, but for me to be a dog, it would mean I’d taken a terrible tumble from my rightful place in the world as a supreme being. Namely a cat.
1:44 PM. The dog is still barking. Careful, or you’ll use up your daily quota of barks.
2:03 PM. The staff finally comes home, bearing grocery bags. It’s about time, staff, and I might say that it is very bad manners of you to sneak out without telling me, or getting my permission to leave. That said, you’re back, so we have one important matter to settle. Did you get anything for me?
2:06 PM. Up on the kitchen table, inspecting grocery bags while the staff puts things away. Wait a minute. Why on earth did you buy kale?
6:07 PM. Supervising the staff while she makes dinner. For some reason she’s cutting up that kale. Just as long as she doesn’t expect me to eat it. Honestly, that’s rabbit food, staff. Humans can be such perplexing life forms at times. And by at times, I mean... pretty much all the time.
6:29 PM. Dinner with the staff. She’s having that kale nonsense with her steak. I am contenting myself with strips of steak. Being generous and a benevolent higher life form, I have decided she can have all the kale she wants. Besides, as we all know, steak rules, kale doesn’t make you drool. Or something like that.
6:55 PM. Keeping an eye on the staff while she does dishes. One must watch humans very closely, after all. Even if it’s just to annoy them by making them think you’re plotting something diabolical. Even when you’re not.
8:03 PM. Pondering the great mysteries of life. What came first? The cat or the purr?
11:33 PM. The staff is off to bed. Keep the door open for me, is that understood? I fully expect to be jumping up on you at three in the morning, and don’t want to be inconvenienced by a closed door.