A Day In The Life Of A Cat

Just as I begin with the perspective of the dog, so too do I end with the point of view of the cat, who, as one of the higher beings of the world, must always have the last word. 

6:59 AM. Waking up. Slept well. Dreamed of melting popsicles for some reason...

7:01 AM. An inspection outside. The thermometer reads 23 Celsius, and it's only going to go up from there. For the record, I don't like heat. Fortunately my house is air conditioned. Okay, some flying lunches pecking around at the grass outside. It's going to be too hot to chase you today.

7:03 AM. An examination of skies to the west suggest we may be in for rain. Good. Just as long as I don't get caught outside in it, because if that's the case there will be hell to pay...

7:09 AM. Wondering what's taking my staff. I can hear her moving around upstairs, so I know she's awake. But not coming downstairs yet. Oh, well, good things come to all cats that wait.

7:21 AM. The staff finally comes downstairs. It's about time, staff. Now then, it's time you see to my breakfast, don't you think?

7:23 AM. ....and while we're at it, staff, no more of those field rations. Are we clear on that? I have told you this many times, but you keep putting down field rations with the rest of my breakfast. And this is not what I want to be seeing from here out. Is that understood?

7:24 AM. The staff puts down a bowl of milk and a plate of tuna. Unfortunately she also puts down a bowl of field rations. I sigh with dismay and set to work on the breakfast I actually want. I shall ignore the field rations.

7:26AM. Finished with breakfast. Didn't touch the field rations. I shall leave my staff in peace to have her breakfast.

7:35 AM. On the back of the couch, looking outside. Somewhere in the distance I can hear the barking of that foul hound who lives down the road. 

Dumb dog.

7:40 AM. The staff is on her way out the door to go to that work place she insists on going to most of the week. Staff, by the way, we're running low on milk. You were planning on doing something about that, right?

7:42 AM. Observing as the staff drives out the driveway in her car. Well, technically my car. But I let her use it.

8:13 AM. What was a few drops of rain has turned into a downpour. Oh well, maybe it'll break the heat and humidity. At least I'm not out in it.

8:22 AM. The first burst of lightning followed by thunder in what looks like a considerable storm. Batten down the hatches, this is a big one....

8:38 AM. Maintaining watch out the windows as the storm rages. Note to self: if this winds up becoming a tornado, will it delay the staff in getting home?

8:55 AM. Okay, that's enough of that. The storm can take all the time it wants. As for me? I think a nap is in order right about now. Excuse me, storm? Would it kill you to keep it down for awhile?

11:09 AM. Waking up from my nap. Slept well. Storm appears to be over outside. Good.

11:13 AM. Reconnaissance of the kitchen has determined that the only food out in the open is that bowl of field rations.

11:14 AM. After much internal debate and soul searching, I decide to sate my hunger by eating some of the field rations.

1:28 PM. Woken out of a sound sleep by the sound of that idiot mutt from down the road barking. The mailman must be passing by.

3:43 PM. Working my claws out on the scratching post. Inadvertently unleashing some residual scent of catnip while doing so. Uh oh, I'm going to go into a catnip zoomie phase in five, four, three......

4:20 PM. Totally tuckered out after sprinting through every nook and cranny in the house while under the influence of catnip. I've earned another nap.

5:36 PM. The staff comes home, waking me up from my nap after opening the door. She's bringing in groceries. This I approve of.

6:47 PM. Dinner with the staff. She's having carrots with her steak. She's cut up steak into bite sized pieces for me and put it on a plate. Bravo, staff, well done.

8:02 PM. Staff? Why are you watching a Hallmark movie? I knew you had low taste, but this is ridiculous.

8:21 PM. Okay, that's it. I'm going upstairs. If you want to waste the next hour and a half watching a couple of washed up soap actors in a movie that's the script equivalent of a paint by numbers kit, go ahead. 

11:48 PM. The staff comes upstairs into her bedroom. Well, my bedroom, where I am presently occupying the bed. Time for bed, staff? 

You may do so. Despite your horrible taste in movies.