A Day In The Life Of A Cat

And now it is time for the cat to have her say...

7:19 AM. Waking up at home. Slept exceedingly well. Dreamed of roaming through vast fields of catnip.

7:22 AM. Staring out the front windows. Lots of snow falling. Well, this being a weekend, that means my staff is home anyway, and surely these conditions will prevent her from going off somewhere else, so she can stay home and spoil me rotten.

7:27 AM. Watching birds at the feeders busily eating. Yes, well, if this window was open, I’d be out there chasing you flying lunches. Of course, if this window was open, it would be bloody cold in here right now, and that’s not acceptable.

7:31 AM. The staff comes downstairs. Well, hello there, staff. If you ask me, and you are asking me, now would be a good time to start seeing to my breakfast.

7:33 AM. I have been provided with breakfast by the human. The milk in one bowl and the chicken in another are entirely acceptable and to my exacting standards. For whatever reason, the human persists in trying to get me to eat field rations. I shall ignore those.

7:36 AM. Finished with breakfast. Delivering a head bonk to the leg of the staff as thanks for breakfast.

7:48 AM. Staring out the window. The snow continues to fall. Well, this will probably mean that annoying mutt from down the road will stick close to home today. So much the better. The last thing I need to see on my weekend day with the staff is to have that hound show up here wagging his tail.

7:55 AM. The staff has taken to reading on the couch. Well, if that’s not an invitation to invade her lap, I don’t know what is. Very well, I shall take advantage of it.

7:56 AM. I have occupied the staff’s lap and have taken to head bonking the back of her book as a signal that I want attention.

7:57 AM. The staff has set aside her book and is giving me lots of attention. I am purring in response.

9:14 AM. Waking up on the staff’s lap. Hmmm, it’s curious how a few strokes from your human can put you right out to sleep.

9:19 AM. Wandering into the kitchen. As I’m feeling a bit peckish, I'll have some of those field rations.

10:37 AM. The staff is having her morning coffee. She has been thoughtful enough to put milk onto a saucer for me. Very good, staff, very good indeed.

12:03 PM. Have woken up from another nap just in time to inquire with the staff about a lunchtime treat.

12:11 PM. The staff is having turkey on her bread, and at my insistence has given me a couple of slices of meat. Staff? Have I mentioned that your training process has come along rather smoothly?

12:45 PM. Sitting on the windowsill, gazing out at those flying lunches having a bite to eat at the feeders. I wonder if they realize they’re being watched.

12:54 PM. Distant barking through the snow. That foul hound sounds like he’s annoyed. 

12:55 PM. And yet more of that distant barking. Well, whatever has him ticked off has my compliments.

1:04 PM. Whatever the reason for the barking, it appears to now have been silenced. Whatever purpose dogs serve in this world is a mystery beyond my understanding. 

3:23 PM. Waking up from a nap. Feeling like I’m being watched.

3:24 PM. Have spotted an intruder. There’s a squirrel sitting out on the windowsill staring in. I take to the back of the couch to have a closer inspection. He’s startled at first, but realizes there’s glass between us. Which is the only reason he’s still alive and breathing right now.

3:25 PM. I stare intently at the squirrel. The squirrel stares back. Yes, yes, I’m sure you think you can get away with anything. I imagine you might have been annoying that awful canine from down the road earlier... that does seem like the sort of thing a squirrel would just love to do. But understand this: I am a cat. Which makes me a supreme life form on this planet.

3:32 PM. The squirrel has had enough of staring at me and has made a tactical retreat off the windowsill and to the bird feeder, where he is currently engaged in stuffing his squirrel mouth. By the way? I totally won the staring contest.

6:29 PM. Dinner with the staff. Bacon pancakes are at hand, and that suits me just fine.

8:38 PM. Lying on my back, staring at the ceiling, wondering what came first: the belly rub, or the feline instinct to attack hands giving the belly rub.

11:41 PM. The staff is off to bed. Very well, staff, I shall remain down here, but do keep the door open. I like running around at four in the morning through the house, and closed doors hamper my efforts to set speed records, you know.