A Day In The Life Of A Cat

And so it is time for the perspective of the cat, a divine being who should be treated with all the adoration she deserves.

6:50 AM. Waking up. Taking a big stretch. It is far too early for this.

7:02 AM. An examination of conditions out the front window from the back of the couch. Humid today, but not overly so. Perhaps conditions for thunderstorms. I don't like thunderstorms. 

Flying lunches pecking around at the grass for bugs. I don't like bugs either.

7:08 AM. The staff comes downstairs, dressed for that work place she goes off to. I got so used to this work from home thing she was doing for awhile. Now when she leaves she puts on a mask and looks like a surgeon. Or worse, a vet. Human beings are so weird.

7:10 AM. Instructing the staff as to seeing to it that my breakfast is made. Now then, staff, let's get to it and have a proper meal set up. I would have preferred you to have been up a half hour earlier to put a bowl in the fridge for optimum pre-chilled status, because there's something about breakfast being served in a pre-chilled dish that makes it just right. But we can't always get what we want. So aside from that, I want this to be made perfectly clear: no field rations. I want meat. Are we understanding each other, staff?

7:12 AM. The staff sets down a plate of chicken, a bowl of milk... and a bowl of field rations. Or kibbles as she calls them. The first two I shall help myself to. The third I shall ignore. One of these days, staff, one of these days, you'll get the hint and stop buying field rations.

7:16 AM. Finished eating the meat and drinking the milk. Walking out of the kitchen and ignoring the field rations. 

7:29 AM. The staff is on her way out the door after finishing her breakfast and off to that work place. Goodbye, staff. If you're stopping at the store on the way home, don't give into the impulse to buy field rations.

7:39 AM. Somewhere off in the distance I can hear the barking of that foul hound. Hopefully he has an unpleasant meeting with a skunk.

7:45 AM. You know, staring at a blank spot on the wall with great intent but for absolutely no reason is not as amusing as when the staff is here. I like freaking her out and making her think we have a ghost in the house when there is no such thing.

8:03 AM. A look at the weather forecast on the television. Apparently storms are imminent. Yes, well, one look out the window would tell you that.

8:15 AM. An examination of the exterior from the back of the couch suggests the rain could start any time. Clouds that dark are never a good sign. Fortunately I am inside and can sleep this off anywhere I choose. 

8:22 AM. The rain commences all at once, along with some lightning. I wonder if that foul mutt is out in it.

8:28 AM. Continuing to watch the storm blow outside. I suppose I had better do a patrol of the house just in case my staff did something foolish... like leaving a window open. Screens will not do much good with high winds and a downpour, after all.

8:43 AM. A thorough examination of the house confirms that all windows are shut and therefore we should expect no leaks or water getting blown in. Unless a flying tree branch breaks a window, but let us not get ahead of ourselves or anything.

8:51 AM. Very well, then. This storm might last awhile. I shall then just endeavor to put up with it. Perhaps take a nap. If I know that annoying hound from down the road, and I do, then right about now he must be cowering somewhere under a bed or in the basement.

10:31 AM. Waking up from a nap on the couch. Slept pleasantly. A glance outside. The weather has cleared up. Good. I approve. 

11:32 AM. Feeling a bit peckish. 

11:33 AM. Ah, yes. Of course. Just field rations out in the open in the kitchen. 

My feeling hungry overcomes my disdain for field rations. I eat.

12:02 PM. Watching the noon news. It seems that storm sent a used car salesman flying into the lake. The reporter quips about how no one has come forward yet to check in on him in the hospital after his near-drowning, because who cares about used car salesmen?

12:23 PM. The newscast is interrupted when the anchor mentions that the National Association Of Used Car Salespeople is picketing outside their studios and demanding that that the reporter who insulted them be handed over for beheading.

It might just be me, but someone takes their job way too seriously.

5:03 PM. The staff walks in the front door bearing a couple of grocery bags. Any milk and tuna among your supply run, staff?

5:12 PM. Supervising the staff while she unpacks the groceries. A carton of milk is always a welcome sight to see. And is that catnip?

6:04 PM. The staff is making dinner, but has the evening news on. Big story of the night is the used car salesmen burning the local reporter in effigy outside their studios. The anchor is looking dismayed and asking why, with so many jokes out there about used car salesmen, that they have no sense of humour about it.

6:37 PM. Dinner with the staff. A bowl of milk and a plate of cut up beef meets with my approval. Why she insists on eating her meat with broccoli, I don't know.

8:23 PM. Lying on the sofa while the staff reads, contemplating the great mysteries of our time. What came first, the purr or the scratch behind the ears?

11:38 PM. The staff is off to bed. Very well, staff, but do keep the door open. I like having access to all spaces for my overnight sprint through the premises at 3:30 AM for absolutely no reason, you know.