And now it is time for the point of view of the cat. She demands attention and obedience. It is unwise to cross her.
7:03 AM. Waking up at home. I dreamed of breaking into a catnip storage warehouse and having my way with the contents.
7:08 AM. Staring out at the vastness of my domain from the back of the living room couches. The flying lunches are still freeloading off the staff at those bird feeders. I wonder when the staff’s going to put those away. Not while we’ve still got snow on the ground. And maybe not for a month afterwards.
7:12 AM. As I have not yet heard the staff moving around upstairs, I believe it’s time for me to go on up there and prevent her from hitting the snooze button again.
7:13 AM. Having had crossed the threshold into the staff’s bedroom, I find that she’s still under the covers. This calls for, to use a phrase, my singing the song of my people.
7:14 AM. My howling and meowing has succeeded in having the staff wake up and get out of bed. Now then, staff, hurry up, because breakfast is waiting to be made.
7:23 AM. Patiently waiting on the staff to get downstairs and see to my breakfast. Of course my patience has its limits.
7:30 AM. The staff finally comes downstairs. I begin to meow my instructions for the morning repast. Now then, staff, as I’ve told you on multiple occasions, I would like the optimum dining experience of eating my meat off a slightly chilled plate. So it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if you came down a half hour earlier and put one in the fridge. It would prevent you from falling asleep again, which is a benefit for you. But that’s beside the point, because it’s too late to do so today. A bowl of milk is also called for. And so too is the absence of a bowl of field rations. I’ve explained to you on several occasions that I have no use at all for field rations, but you persist in putting them down.
7:32 AM. Supervising the staff while she gets my breakfast ready. No, staff, I am not high maintenance. I have no idea why you keep saying that to me. I just enjoy having things just so. There’s a difference.
7:33 AM. The staff has put my breakfast down. To my satisfaction a plate of tuna and a bowl of milk are side by side. To my continued dismay she’s also put down a bowl of field rations.
7:35 AM. Finished my breakfast, licking my lips. I shall avoid the field rations.
7:43 AM. Bidding farewell to the staff as she heads out the door for her car. Farewell, staff. Don’t forget to pick up milk on the way home from work. Where would you be if you didn’t have me telling you what to do?
7:51 AM. Watching a robin flit about on the lawn. First one of the year. Well, you’ll have to put up with melting snow for a few days. Or two or three weeks. On a side note, that old expression about the early bird catching the worm. It makes no sense. Who wants a yucky worm?
8:12 AM. Getting some time in on an upstairs windowsill. Movement on the property catches my attention. It’s that stupid dog from down the road, walking onto my property. And looking thoroughly muddy. He must have found quite the mud puddle. This does not please me one bit.
8:13 AM. Cursing out the foul mutt with every choice bad word known to cats and humans and everything else on the planet. Get lost, dog! You’re trespassing on my property!
8:14 AM. My stream of expletives continues as I cast derision and scorn on the idiot hound and his parentage. Are you really this dumb, or is it a spring thing that your brain goes flying out the window?
8:15 AM. The irritating pooch finally decides to leave. I meow out a few final warnings and get off the windowsill. That’s going to have me in a foul mood for the rest of the day if you ask me, and you are asking me.
9:09 AM. I know I’ve only been awake for two hours, but I do believe that a nap is a good idea.
11:31 AM. Waking up from my nap. Taking a big stretch. Feeling hungry.
11:33 AM. After much reluctance and inner debate, I have taken to eating the field rations. After all, it’s the only food still out and about.
1:03 PM. Watching the Weather Network. More snow might be in the forecast. Well, spring does take its time getting here, but that’s to be expected. First of all, this is Canada. Second, who on earth relies on an easily irritated rodent for their seasonal prognostications?
1:32 PM. Angry barking from down the road. A look at the clock suggests that it’s time for the mailman on his rounds. If that annoying dog understood that the guy’s just doing his job, we could have some peace and quiet around here.
4:18 PM. Waking up from another nap. Slept well. Dreamed I was crowned Empress Of All Realities. As it should be.
5:34 PM. Greeting the staff as she arrives. So tell me, staff, did you remember the milk?
6:28 PM. Dinner with the staff. She’s cut up some lamb into nice kitty cat bite sized pieces for me. I’ll never understand why she insists on having hers with broccoli, but then human beings are really strange if you ask me, and you are asking me.
8:19 PM. Lying in the living room, pondering the meaning of life. What if all of existence started with a cat coughing up a hairball?
11:27 PM. The staff is off to bed. Very well then, staff, good night. But keep the door open. In case I need to walk all over you at four thirty in the morning.