A Day In The Life Of A Cat

As always, the cat gets the last say in these matters. Show her respect, for she is truly one of the supreme life forms on this planet.

7:02 AM. Waking up out of a deep slumber. Taking a big stretch and yawning. Slept well. Dreamed of catnip. Oh, catnip, how I love you so…

7:04 AM. An inspection of the exterior from the back of the couch determines that snow is falling quite heavily. Well, that was in the forecast. Perhaps it means that my staff will be obliged to stay at home today, which suits me fine, as she can spoil me rotten. The flying lunches are busy flying around the feeders and wondering when spring will come.

It’s February.

This is Canada.

It’s going to take awhile.

7:07 AM. Watching the Weather channel. Lots of snow in the forecast today for this area. That’s to be expected this time of year if you ask me, and you are asking me. So all one can do is settle in where it’s nice and warm and take a nap. Or three. Because one can never have too many naps.

7:10 AM. Waiting on my staff to come downstairs. Fortunately I’ve already heard her moving around upstairs, so I know she’s not sleeping in. This is a good thing, because I expect her to be seeing to my every whim. Such as breakfast. The first and most important meal of the day. 

7:13 AM. Staring out at the vastness of my domain. Which doesn’t seem that vast, with all the snow falling. I can barely see the woods from here. Which means whiteout conditions today. Which means that annoying dog from down the road is a whole lot more likely to stick around home today.

7:18 AM. The staff comes downstairs. I meow greetings and begin to make recommendations for my breakfast to be seen to. Now then, staff, I must start out by pointing out that yet again you failed to come downstairs a half hour early to put a plate in the fridge for me. I have told you on many occasions that I would prefer my breakfast on a slightly chilled plate. So all that requires is a half hour in the fridge to reach optimal chilled state. It’s pointless to leave it in the fridge overnight, because that’s simply too cold. Well, it’s too late now, because I’m not going to spend a half hour waiting for breakfast…

7:19 AM. Following the staff into the kitchen, continuing to issue my morning orders. And for the record, staff, you really don’t have to put down a bowl of field rations. Field rations are for dogs, and do I look like a dog? Of course not. I am a cat. Which means I am a supreme form of life and should be treated as such. No, I am not high maintenance, I don’t know why you say that about me…

7:20 AM. Supervising the staff while she works on fixing my breakfast. She requires supervision.

7:21 AM. The staff has put my breakfast down on the floor. The plate of tuna and bowl of milk are to my liking. The bowl of field rations on the side are not. I set to work on the tuna and milk, and shall ignore the field rations.

7:23 AM. Finished breakfast. Licking my lips with satisfaction. I shall let my staff have her breakfast in relative peace and quiet.

7:33 AM. Distant barking from that idiot hound. Probably chasing his tail and got lost.

7:36 AM. Hearing my staff speaking on the phone. It sounds quite like she’ll be working from home today as opposed to going into that work place. That means she can spoil me rotten all day. 

7:43 AM. The staff sits down at her computer in the study and sets to work. I oblige her by jumping up on the desk and commencing an epic stare pose at her. Estimated time until I get what I want? 2.15 minutes.

7:44 AM. The staff is doing her best to avoid my stare and tap at that keyboard, but my ability to stare will prove to be decisive.

7:45 AM. The staff shakes her head and sits back, giving me admission to her lap. I settle down and reward her with purring. You may return to your work, staff, and be glad that I didn’t decide to lie down on your keyboard. I sometimes do that when you’re off at work, you know.

7:52 AM. Nice and comfortable here on this lap of hers. You know, sure I’ve only been awake for an hour, but I could use another nap. Which will require my staff to stay in place until such a time as I decide to wake up from my nap.

10:28 AM. Waking up from my nap. Taking a big stretch. The staff is still working at her computer but pauses and looks at me. Then she tells me that her legs have fallen asleep because I’ve been on top of them. Yes, I know, that was the point.

11:19 AM. Wandering into the kitchen while my staff works. Feeling a bit peckish, but the only thing around are those field rations.

11:21 AM. After some internal debate, I help myself to some of the field rations.

12:36 PM. The staff is having some lunch. She’s been considerate enough to put some slices of ham on a plate for me. I help myself. Has it occurred to you, staff, that perhaps stopping in here for your lunch every day might be a good idea?

2:10 PM. Sitting on the back of the couch looking out the front windows. I see the mailman stopping at the mailbox. I’m surprised he showed up today, given the weather. I know I’d have been more likely to stay at home in his position. This of course means that in a few minutes when he passes by that home for the idiot dog down the road, the idiot dog will bark. Assuming the idiot dog is outside, I might hear that. Assuming the idiot dog isn’t napping inside, the idiot dog may not even notice.

3:43 PM. I have coaxed the staff into giving me a belly rub and scratches behind the ears. I love that, though remember, staff, only three belly rubs in total because otherwise I become murderous and shall attack your hand.

5:01 PM. Delivering head bonks to the staff’s legs to alert her that her work day is over and it’s time to go home. And since you’re already home, you can save yourself the commute time that you otherwise would have had getting back home.

6:20 PM. The staff and I have dinner. She’s cut up some stewing beef into pieces for me, which I certainly approve of. Why she insists on having hers with broccoli is beyond me.

8:07 PM. The staff is watching the Weather channel. They’re telling us that more snow is due out of this system before it’s all said and done. Well now that’s good, staff. That means you’re going to get to work from home tomorrow again and spoil me rotten. And that’s a very good thing.

11:38 PM. The staff is off to bed. No need to set an alarm for the morning, staff. Not if we get as much overnight as they’re saying. Besides, that’s what I’m for. I’ll wake you up when I’m ready for breakfast. Probably by pouncing on you, or sitting beside you and staring at you until you wake up and wonder how long I’ve been staring at you.