A Day In The Life Of A Cat

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

7:11 AM. Waking up. Yawning to greet the day, followed by a big stretch. Slept exceedingly well. Dreamed of being in a forest populated entirely by scratching posts, each doused in catnip.

7:13 AM. Staring outside at the vastness of my domain. Well, the rain continues, and it’s continuing to wear down the snow. This is the sort of day when it is best to stay indoors. Unfortunately my staff has to go off to that silly work place. Priorities first, however. She must see to my breakfast, post haste.

7:14 AM. Heading up the stairs to make inquiries with the staff regarding a morning meal.

7:15 AM. Up the stairs and into the staff’s room. Well, my room, since the whole house belongs to me, including the staff herself, but this is where she sleeps. And here she is, just finishing getting dressed. I deliver a head bonk to her leg in greetings. Good morning, staff. Have you put any thought into my breakfast yet?

7:22 AM. Leading the staff down the stairs, meowing insistently. I’d speak English to her, but I suspect she’d freak out to discover that cats are perfectly capable of grasping multiple human languages. We just wouldn’t lower ourselves to say so out loud.

7:24 AM. The staff is now seeing to my breakfast. A bowl of milk, a bowl of tuna, and for whatever reason, a bowl of field rations. As I have explained to you many times before, staff, I don’t care for kibbles. Those are the sort of things you feed a dog.

7:26 AM. Finished with the milk and tuna. I shall leave the field rations aside. Heading off into the living room to let the staff fix her breakfast in peace.

7:35 AM. Sitting on the back of the couch, staring outside. Somewhere off in the distance I can hear the sound of that annoying dog from down the road, barking his annoying head off. He sounds frustrated. Good.

7:40 AM. The staff bids me goodbye before heading out. Take an umbrella, staff, and do try to be home on time. If the road gets washed out by all this rain, we can’t have you staying a night in town, can we? I mean, who’d feed me?

7:42 AM. Watching from the window as the staff drives off. Very well then. Left to my own devices all day. How much trouble can I get myself into?

8:23 AM. Stalking the scratching post. Just standing there, looking all tempting and not expecting anything amiss to happen. Twitching tail. Getting in position for a pre-emptive strike.

8:24 AM. I have launched a full assault upon the scratching post, unleashing a fury of feline claws on its surfaces. In the process, I have unleashed residual scents of catnip still in the rug. This, of course, will set me into a catnip frenzy in five, four, three...

8:47 AM. Coming down off that catnip frenzy. Have somehow knocked the scratching post over while I was at it. Cats can do some real strange stuff during a catnip craze. Boy, am I knackered. Maybe a nap is in order right about now....

11:56 AM. Waking up from my nap. Feeling refreshed. Good to go and get on with the day, at least until my next nap. 

12:07 AM. Watching the noon news. Weather person blathering on about record rainfalls for the day. Yes, well, as long as it doesn’t prevent my staff from getting home to spoil me rotten on time. I’m expecting my staff to be here inside of five hours. 

1:13 PM. Glancing at the calendar. The weekend’s all red and shiny. Ah, yes, Easter weekend. This explains why the staff has been buying chocolate eggs as of late. Why she refuses to share them with me is a mystery. I mean, what harm could chocolate ever do to me? Just for that, I won’t share any of my tuna with her.

3:51 PM. Waking up from a nap. Sounds of rain outside. Still no sign of the staff.

4:46 PM. Perched on the back of the couch, keeping an eye on the road. Expecting the staff. Fortunately I know what the staff’s car looks like. Scratch that. I know what my car, that I let the staff drive, looks like. So it’ll just be a matter of looking lackadaisical when she walks in the door.

5:01 PM. The staff comes through the front door. I meow to greet her and deliver a head bonk to her leg. It’s about time, staff, I was about to call out search and rescue to find you. After they dropped off some provisions for me, of course.

5:26 PM. I hear the staff talking on the phone. Sounds like she’s talking to that sister of hers... the one with the moronic husband and the nitwit children. Otherwise known as the idiot relations I have such disdain for. Wait a minute, did I hear that right? Staff! Did you just invite them over for Easter weekend?

5:28 PM. Expressing irritation at the staff. I have told you before in no uncertain terms, staff, that you are not to invite your idiot relations to my house! Those kids would be pleased to no end to torment me all day, and you’re talking about a four day weekend! It’s bad enough if they’re around a couple of hours, but this is completely intolerable! Unless you don’t mean them to literally stay the whole four day weekend. Well, either way it’s intolerable!

5:31 PM. The staff is apparently oblivious to my irritation and disapproval of her invitation. Okay, so I’m going to have to start scouting out the most ideal bolt holes and hiding spots well in advance. I’ve got a few that have never failed me. If indeed we’re looking at a four day weekend with those miserable brats around the house, I need to hide where they’ll never find me. Even if they’re really only here for Easter dinner, I still have to hide. Staff? You’ll pay for this. Oh, will you pay...

6:02 PM. Supervising the staff while she makes dinner. This had better make up for the weekend from hell you’ll be subjecting me to, or I swear, there will be hell to pay. You hear me, staff? There will be hell to pay!

6:28 PM. Strips of beef on my plate for dinner, while the staff has some with salad. What humans see in salad is bizarre, if you ask me. I am contenting myself in eating. This is some compensation, granted, but not quite enough for the annoyance that the staff’s idiot relations will subject me to just by being in my house.

8:33 PM. Freaking the staff out by intently staring at the ceiling as though there’s something up there. There’s not, of course, but that won’t stop from messing with her head and convincing her she’s got a spider in the house. 

11:39 PM. The staff is off to bed. Very well, staff, you have my permission to go to bed. I will be up part of the night scoping out bolt holes for potential use on the weekend. Don’t think for one moment that you’re forgiven, mind you. Especially if those rugrats happen to discover me at any single point in the weekend.