As always, the cat has the last word, and so here she is.
7:06 AM. Waking up. Taking a big stretch. Slept well. Dreamed of frost and changing leaves and the ghosts of mice I’ve dispatched from this world.
7:11 AM. Getting a look outside. The dawn comes so much later these days. Fall is carrying on, with winter not that far behind it. Very well then, as long as it doesn’t prevent my staff from keeping me fed as I expect. No three week shut in episodes for us, thank you very much.
7:14 AM. Waiting on the staff to come downstairs. At least I can hear from the sounds upstairs that she’s in the shower. Why humans can’t just wash themselves in the same way that cats do baffles me. Who wants to get that much water on them?
7:22 AM. The staff finally comes downstairs. I deliver head bonks to her legs. It took you long enough, staff. Now then, I crave sustenance, and I crave it now. I desire a cold bowl of milk, with a plate of tuna if possible. The plate must be chilled in advance, but if we wait for that, it’ll take a half hour. Why can’t you wake up a half hour earlier? Or at least put the plate in the fridge the night before? Oh, and I do not want field rations. Are we clear on that?
7:24 AM. The staff puts down my breakfast. A plate of tuna and milk as requested… and for some bizarre reason she persists in putting down a bowl of field rations.
7:25 AM. Leaving the field rations aside, I settle into my breakfast.
7:27 AM. Finished with breakfast. Feeling content. Ignoring the field rations.
7:36 AM. Meowing instructions to the staff as she’s on her way out the door. Now then, I expect you to be home promptly and on time to spoil me rotten after you’re done with this work thing. But if you’re stopping for groceries, I expect you to pick up some catnip for me.
7:37 AM. Watching the staff as she gets in her car. Okay. So I’m all by myself today. How much trouble can one cat get into anyway?
7:49 AM. Sitting in the kitchen, looking up at the big pumpkin on the counter. Hallowe’en being just a few days off, at any time, the staff is likely to initiate one of those annual ritual sacrifices and go serial killer on that thing, carving up a garish face onto it. There are times I find human beings to be quite perplexing. Oh well, just as long as she doesn’t try to put me in a Hallowe’en costume. Because if she does, I swear to Isis, there is going to be hell to pay.
7:52 AM. Distant barking from that annoying dog. Did I mention I dislike him?
8:01 AM. Sitting on the back of the couch, looking out at the vastness of my domain.
8:05 AM. Movement out on the lawn catches my eye. It’s that foul hound! On my property!
8:06 AM. Casting a storm of contempt and outrage upon that vile canine. Get lost! How many times do I have to tell you? You’re not welcome here! I don’t like you! Are you as dumb as you look? What part of go to hell do you not get?
8:07 AM. …and another thing! You will in the future respect the boundaries of my property and stop coming here! I do not abide the presence of a hound on my lands, especially one as irritating as you are! Am I making myself clear???
8:08 AM. The annoying dog finally walks away. And don’t come back, you hear me? Don’t come back!
8:12 AM. Still thoroughly annoyed. Why that dog can’t take a hint and go away is beyond me.
10:58 AM. Waking up from a nap. Taking a look outside just in case that obnoxious mutt came back. No, no sign of him. Good.
12:30 PM. After much reluctance, I help myself to some of those field rations. It’ll be hours until the staff comes home, after all, and we kitties must eat when we can. Besides, I can’t get the cabinet doors open, or use can openers, so that pretty much rules out getting into the tuna or chicken supplies.
2:27 PM. Launching an assault on the scratching post. In doing so, I have activated residual catnip scents clinging to the carpet. Which is setting me off on a catnip craze…
3:01 PM. Coming down from my catnip craze. Lying on the living room floor. Noticing one of the end tables knocked over. Strange things happen when cats go catnip crazy, you know…
5:19 PM. Woken up by the sound of the front door opening. The staff walks in. I get up and walk over to greet her. Hello, staff, did you bring me anything? She asks about the end table. Oh, that? Must have been a ghost. They’re very busy this time of year, you know…
6:37 PM. Dinner with the staff. She has obliged me with a plate of ground beef. Which suits me fine. For whatever reason, she wanted to have hers in a shepherd’s pie. Too many vegetables if you ask me, and of course you are asking me.
7:22 PM. Watching the staff as she carves up the pumpkin. What did that pumpkin ever do to you?
8:48 PM. Lying on my back, staring up at the living room ceiling, pondering the great mysteries of life. Is the red dot real, or an illusion?
11:27 PM. The staff is off to bed. Very well, staff. Have a good night’s sleep. I will be down here for the moment, but expect you to keep the bedroom door open. After all, one never knows if that pumpkin is going to come back to life and demand payback, and if it comes to that, I’m totally not protecting you.