And now it is time for Her Regal Grace The Supreme Cat to have her say...
7:06 AM. Waking up at home. Taking a big stretch. Slept well. Dreamed of coming across the world’s biggest scratching post.
7:13 AM. Sitting on the back of the couch, staring out at the vastness of my domain. Wondering when I should go yell at the staff to wake up. Frost on the ground. Days are getting shorter, nights are getting longer. Winter is coming. That suits me just fine, as long as I’ve got a place in a nice warm house to curl up for a nap.
7:19 AM. Sounds from upstairs. Good, it’s about time. I was about to head upstairs and jump on the staff and meow my head off.
7:28 AM. The staff finally comes downstairs. It’s about time, staff. Now then, this being a Saturday, I fully expect you to spend the day spoiling me rotten and paying attention to me at every single turn. That includes belly rubs. Oh, you don’t have to worry… do I look like the sort of cat who’d give you a good clawing out of nowhere?
7:30 AM. Watching expectantly as the staff prepares my breakfast.
7:32 AM. The staff has put down a bowl of milk, which I approve of, and a plate of chicken, which I also approve of. And yet despite my many occasions pointing out the obvious- that I dislike field rations- she’s put down a bowl of that too.
7:34 AM. Finished breakfast. Have left the field rations aside. Leaving the staff to make her breakfast in peace.
7:37 AM. Sitting on the back of the couch, looking outside. Off in the distance comes the irritating howls of that annoying dog from down the road.
7:46 AM. Making inquiries with the staff. What is the precise purpose dogs serve in this world, staff?
8:30 AM. Stretching out in a sun puddle for a nap. Staff, don’t wake me up before lunch, do I make myself perfectly clear?
10:49 AM. Suddenly roused out of sleep by the staff picking me up. Wait a minute, what did I tell you about not waking me up before lunch? Before I know what’s happening, she’s got me into the cat carrier. Oh, hold on here… I did not authorize you to do this!
10:54 AM. The staff is taking me and the cat carrier out the front door. No good ever comes from being put into one of these things. Staff, you and I are going to have words about this later, I assure you of that.
10:58 AM. Fuming about my current situation. Assessing options. Suspecting the worst. My staff only puts me in that cat carrier for one reason, and one reason only. One of the most vile three letter words imaginable.
11:17 AM. The car has stopped, and the staff is taking the carrier out of the back seat. And I’m getting a glance at where we are. Sure enough. My suspicions are confirmed. She has brought me to the dark abode of the mistress of all evil. She has brought me to the vet.
11:19 AM. In the waiting room with my staff. Staring out through the gate at anxious dogs, and at irritated cats in carriers. Fuming. Well, that vet might want to examine me, but I won’t make things go easy on her…
11:36 AM. Summoned into an examination room. The staff greets the mistress of all evil as if the vet is a normal human being as opposed to what she really is- the embodiment of the darkness and the despicable given human form.
11:38 AM. The vet gives me a shot. Hey! That hurt! What was in that anyway? Some kind of slow acting poison?
11:43 AM. Hissing and howling and clawing as much as I can while the staff holds me down. You are going to pay for this later, staff… oh, will you pay!
11:52 AM. Being taken out by the staff, back in my carrier. Thoroughly irritated. The mistress of all evil says she’ll see me again. Like hell you will! Meowing to the other cats and to the dogs as the staff takes me out the door. Give her hell, you hear me? Give her hell!
11:55 AM. The staff has me back in the car, while she’s driving. I am busy plotting revenge. Throwing up at home comes to mind as an opening gambit. The question is how much to throw up. Too much and she might be inclined to take me back to the vet, and that is entirely unacceptable.
12:21 PM. Back home. The staff opens up the gate for the carrier. I stalk out and walk away in a huff. I am not talking to you right now, staff! Is that clear???
3:57 PM. Slowly waking up out of a nap. The staff is stroking me under the chin and scratching behind my ears… which is eliciting a purr out of me. Oh, come on! I’m supposed to be mad at you, and you’re not playing fair!
6:03 PM. Watching the staff cooking dinner. I smell meat cooking. I approve of that.
6:36 PM. Dinner with the staff. Pork is on the menu, cut up nicely for me. I don’t know why she eats hers with sprouts. But then human beings are really weird.
8:59 PM. Contemplating the great mysteries of existence. Do vets hang upside down in the rafters at night like the vampire bats they must surely have sprung up from?
11:26 PM. The staff bids me good night. Oh, very well, staff. I forgive you. Just as long as you understand this: you will never take me to the vet again, are we clear? And that doesn’t mean you can let the vet come here, so don’t get any bright ideas.