A Day In The Life Of A Cat

As I always start off with the point of view of the dog, so I end with the perspective of the cat, who like all of her species is vastly superior to we lowly humans.

7:09 AM. Waking up at home. Big stretch. Yawn for good measure. Slept reasonably well. Dreamed of chasing one of those feathers on a string the staff keeps on hand to distract me. Which reminds me, where is the staff?

7:11 AM. Have come upstairs to find the bedroom door closed. I commence a vigorous meowing. Oh, right, she must have closed the door after I did that whole running through the house screaming bloody murder for absolutely no reason thing at three thirty in the morning.

7:13 AM. Well, I can at least hear the staff. The shower’s running. She’s not going to answer the door, so I might as well just go back downstairs and wait. 

I hate waiting.

7:15 AM. Pacing around in the kitchen. Come on, staff, what’s taking you so long?

7:22 AM. The sound of the bedroom door opening upstairs alerts me. I come into the living room just as the staff descends the stairs, ready for work. Well, staff, I can’t say I found it amusing to find closed doors. We’ll have to have a discussion about that later. But priorities first. Breakfast would be ideal right about now. I would prefer my milk poured three quarters of the way up the bowl, with my morning meal on a slightly chilled plate. You can forego that whole giving me field rations too thing that you seem committed to doing...

7:24 AM. The staff has provided me with the expected milk and a plate of tuna, which is not slightly chilled but taken right out of the cupboard. And true to form, she’s also put down a bowl of field rations. Staff? I have made it quite clear that I do not like dry kibble.

7:25 AM. I settle myself into my breakfast, while the staff gets to work on hers. I will leave the field rations alone.

7:36 AM. The staff has put a strip of bacon down on a plate for me. Very nicely done, staff, I approve...

7:43 AM. Bidding goodbye to the staff as she heads off to that work place she ventures off to. Yes, well, don’t dawdle on the way home, staff, because I expect you home promptly so that I can be spoiled rotten.

7:46 AM. Watching the staff from inside as she leaves in her car. Snow is falling. You know, we’re supposed to be in spring time right now. You wouldn’t know it looking out there right now...

7:49 AM. Somewhere in the distance, even muffled by the glass, I can hear the inane barkings of that foul hound. What purpose dogs serve in this universe is beyond me.

8:19 AM. Sitting on a windowsill, relaxing, musing on the meaning of life. You know, this would be a very nice spot for a nap.

8:24 AM. Jolted out of my thoughts by loud barking from outside. I recover quickly and spot that vile mutt out in the snow, wagging his tail, staring right at me. As if I’d ever trust you! Hey! Get lost, dog!

8:25 AM. Unleashing a whole lot of personal opinions about that dog, including some language that would shock the Sisters Of Little Or No Mercy. What part of get lost do you not understand, hound?

8:26 AM. The dog is withdrawing. And don’t come back! You hear me? Don’t come back, or I unleash a hit-ferret on you!

8:27 AM. The foul hound has vanished back into the woods. I remain thoroughly irritated.

8:33 AM. There’s nothing like a dog showing up on your property unannounced to put you in a foul mood for the rest of the day. Dogs are a pestilence in this world. Almost as bad as idiot relations of the staff and the vet.

9:06 AM. Turning on the Weather Network. The forecaster looks panicked. Prattling on about a spring snowstorm coming this way. He’s billing it as Snowmageddon IV: The Snowvenge. If you ask me, and you are asking me, maybe it’s time we lobotomize weather forecasters.

1:46 PM. Launching an all out assault on the scratching post. In doing so, I have unleashed the scent of stray catnip still in the carpeting. Uh oh... this is going to send me into a frenzy.

2:03 PM. Lying on my back after coming down from that catnip craze. Oh, my head... I think a nap is in order right about now. Sure, I’ve already had two naps since I woke up this morning, but you can never have too many naps.

4:28 PM. Waking up from my nap. Slept exceedingly well. I always do after a catnip frenzy.

4:36 PM. Staring out the window. Snow continuing to fall. Come on, staff, where are you?

4:50 PM. The staff comes in through the front door. I deliver a head bonk to her legs as a greeting. Well, it’s about time, staff. I had quite the day, let me tell you. In case you’re wondering later about where that other slipper is, I can’t help you there. Cats in the midst of catnip crazes tend to forget certain things, like what they did with the other slipper.

5:48 PM. The staff seems to be getting ready to make dinner. I hope it’s something edible. We’ve already discussed this, staff, and kale is one of those things that leaches out any capacity for joy you can ever have if you decide to eat it.

6:27 PM. Dinner with the staff. Some strips of beef for me, which I approve of. For whatever reason, she’s having sprouts with her meat. I don’t know what you see in that stuff, staff.

11:31 PM. The staff is off to bed. Now staff, don’t you even think of closing that door. Or I will come up at three in the morning and meow loud enough to wake the dead.