And now it is the cat's turn to have her say. Show her the respect and adoration she is due, for all like felines, she is one of the supreme life forms on the planet.
7:22 AM. Waking up at home. Slept reasonably well. Dreamed of a big bowl of milk. Which, incidentally, would suit me nicely right about now. So where’s a servant to boss around when you really need one?
7:25 AM. Peering out the window. Snow falling. Hmmm, I wonder where spring is. I mean, this is supposed to be the month seasons change, but you wouldn’t know it looking out the window right about now. On the other hand, this is Canada, and we can get snow in pretty much every month but, maybe, July?
7:27 AM. The staff comes downstairs. Well, there you are. I know, I know, you’ve got that work thing today, which means you can’t stay here all day and spoil me rotten, but I do expect breakfast, post haste. Are we on the same page about this issue?
7:31 AM. I have been provided with breakfast by the staff. Field rations, inexplicably, continue to be placed down on the floor, but she has thoughtfully given me a bowl of milk and a dish of tuna today. Very good, staff, very good.
7:34 AM. I have finished a leisurely breakfast, and have delivered a head bonk to the legs of my staff as a gesture of thanks and gratitude. Though I am leaving the field rations behind. Kibble is something you feed a dog, not one of the supreme life forms on the planet. Unless I get really peckish later in the day.
7:46 AM. The staff is on her way out the door. Very well, staff, drive safely, and be home promptly when you’re done with that work thing. I have full expectations of being spoiled rotten by you before dinner, after all, so don’t you dare disappoint me.
7:53 AM. I have the television on. The hosts are much too talkative, if you ask me. People should just shut up and not say anything for the first seven hours of a day. Is it obvious I’m not a morning cat?
7:55 AM. Mention of protests down south. Familiar slogans. If you ask me, they’d be better off with legions of cats howling, ‘meow no, we won’t go!’
7:58 AM. Okay, that’s enough of that. Turning off the television. I think I’d rather entertain myself keeping an eye on the bird feeders and seeing which one of those flying lunches would make for the most ideal meal.
8:01 AM. Staring outside. Somewhere off in the distance, I can hear the barking of that foul hound. Just as long as he stays away from my property. I do not abide the presence of irritating mutts on my land.
8:12 AM. Keeping an eye on things outside. Brooding deep down inside. What is the meaning of life? Is the true nature of the universe really a big ball of yarn? Because if it is, that would make a whole lot of sense.
8:25 AM. Continuing to sit on the windowsill, musing about the meaning of life and all that. I have the oddest sense that I’m being watched.
8:27 AM. Movement detected. That annoying dog is crossing my property, coming up towards the house. Hey! Get lost! What part of I don’t like you do you not understand?
8:28 AM. The foul hound has identified himself. Yes, I already know your name. Loki. Annoyer of Mailmen and Chewer of Slippers. Apparently your human had a weird sense of humour, because you make the other Loki seem perfectly well behaved.
8:29 AM. Wagging tails do not disarm me, mutt! I’ve been startled out of too many sleeps because you think it’s funny to bark at me!
8:30 AM. The dog is leaving. I am expressing a full-fledged amount of venom and hostility as he goes. And don’t come back! You hear me? Don’t come back!
8:35 AM. Winding down from my annoyance. As long as I live, I will never understand what purpose dogs serve in this world.
11:59 AM. Waking up from a nap. Feeling a bit peckish.
12:03 PM. With much reluctance, I am eating some field rations.
2:20 PM. Have woken up from another nap, and am gazing out on the vastness of my domain. Snow still falling. I hope this doesn’t delay the return of my staff from that work thing she does. After all, when it is all said and done, I am overdue for some serious spoiling.
4:56 PM. The staff returns home, bearing some grocery bags. I greet her with a head bonk to the leg. So did you get me anything?
5:00 PM. Inspecting the contents of the groceries on the kitchen table. Ah, meat, staff! Stewing beef! I approve, I approve. Most commendable indeed.
5:51 PM. Supervising the staff while she makes dinner. Smells good. Stewing beef has been added into whatever it is she’s making. Just as long as some is left aside for me. I’d rather not mix them up with those vegetables that the staff seems to think are tasty. I mean, honestly, staff, who eats broccoli willingly? Rabbits, that’s who. Are you a rabbit, staff? You certainly don’t look like one. So why do you eat broccoli?
6:26 PM. Dinner with the staff. She’s having a full stew. I am contenting myself with the rich taste of stewing beef. So delicious, if you ask me, and of course you are asking me.
8:39 PM. Crawling onto the staff’s lap for attention. Lying on top of the book she was reading. Purring madly. She sighs and starts to give me a belly rub. Works every time.
11:42 PM. The staff is off to bed. Very well, staff, I shall remain down here for now. But keep the door open, are we clear? I may feel like setting a personal speed record in the night for running through the house at four in the morning for no reason whatsoever, and close doors pretty much hinder me.