A Day In The Life Of A Cat

And so it is time for the cat to have her say. Show her all the respect she deserves, for she is one of the supreme life forms on the planet.

7:00 AM. Waking up at home. Slept well. Dreamed of being in a vast field of catnip.

7:03 AM. Sitting on the back of the couch, brooding, lost in thought. It seems like it’s been a long while that I’ve had my thoughts to myself like this. I don’t really understand why, but such is life. Dawn is getting later and later these days. Fall’s here. Which means winter won’t be far behind. Flying lunches are getting ready to fly south. Except for the ones who stay here all winter long and mooch off my staff. Why my staff fills those feeders is something I don’t get. Which reminds me, where is my staff? Breakfast won’t see to itself, after all.

7:17 AM. Listening to sounds from upstairs. The staff is up and about getting herself ready for the day. So I don’t have to go up and meow loudly at her. I can be patient. Honest, I can.

7:22 AM. Come on, staff, what’s taking you so long? I’ve got breakfast that needs to be set up for me, and I don’t like waiting.

7:24 AM. I swear to Isis, if she’s not down in thirty seconds, I’ll raise all hell….

7:25 AM. The staff comes downstairs with three seconds to spare. It’s about time, staff. I was just about to meow yell at you. Now then, priorities. My breakfast. I expect a plate of chicken or tuna. It would be nice if you got up a half hour earlier and put the plate in the fridge to chill for awhile, since the optimum dining experience for a cat is a slightly chilled plate. I also want a bowl of milk on the side. And no field rations, are we clear on that? Will you stop calling me high maintenance? I am not high maintenance, I just like having things the way I like them.

7:27 AM. Supervising the staff while she sets to work on making my breakfast. She requires supervision. Or su-purr-vision, to be more precise.

7:28 AM. The staff has put down a plate of chicken and a bowl of milk, which meet with my approval. What does not meet with my approval is the bowl of field rations. Staff, how many times have I told you I don’t like field rations?

7:29 AM. I set to work on breakfast. I shall content myself with milk and chicken.

7:31 AM. Finished my breakfast. I shall leave my staff to get hers done in the approximately ten minutes she has before she has to get to work.

7:38 AM. Hearing the sounds of that idiot hound from down the road, barking his head off somewhere. 

7:39 AM. Spotting a squirrel off in the yard. The staff is on her way out the door. I sprint out with her and head straight for that squirrel… who flees up a tree. 

7:40 AM. Contemplating whether or not to head up the tree. On the one hand, I can get pretty high. On the other, the squirrel can get higher, and is a lot faster jumping to another tree than I can do. And then there’s the matter of getting down. Yes, I can do it. But I don’t look very graceful while doing so.

7:41 AM. Turning around and seeing the staff’s car pulling out of the driveway. Hey, wait a minute… I’m still out here!

7:53 AM. Sitting on the back deck, thoroughly irritated. The staff is gone for the day. I’m stuck outside. Oh well, at least it’s a reasonably mild day, with no rain in the forecast. I might as well make the most of it. And yell at my staff later.

8:31 AM. Woken out of a good nap by a sudden bark. I bolt up to my feet and catch sight of that annoying mutt breaking out into a sprint directly away from me. Hey! Get back here! How dare you wake me up out of a good sleep, you idiot!

8:32 AM. Chasing the idiot hound, screaming bad words in cat, vowing revenge. And he’s just laughing and laughing and laughing some more, like the irritating dog that he is. This is why I hate dogs!

8:34 AM. Stalking back and forth at the property line. Fuming. I can still hear that dumb hound out in the woods, it’s not as if he’s that stealthy. How dare you wake me up? I was having good dreams! And how dare you find any of this amusing?

8:46 AM. Sitting on the back deck, still fuming. It’s getting so a cat can’t take a decent nap without having a goofball mutt come along to disturb her. I’m just going to have to get some payback. When he least expects it.

12:09 PM. Still waiting on the staff to get home. It won’t be for hours more. Now usually under these circumstances I’d go pay Mrs. McIntyre a visit. She spoils me rotten. But she’s out visiting family this week. So I’m stuck here, waiting on my staff. I will not be happy, not one little bit…

5:23 PM. Watching the staff pull into the driveway in her car. Wearing my most aggrieved face. She gets out of the car and apologizes. I start giving her a piece of my mind, and then she scratches behind my ear in just the right way and… oh, for the love of Isis, now I’m purring. Damn you, purr! I’m supposed to be mad right now!

5:26 PM. Inside with the staff. Feeling more reasonable than I’ve been all day, but pointing out to her that she needs to be fully aware that I expect interior access to the house when she’s gone all day, and that I do not appreciate being cut off from my favourite sleeping spots inside. Besides which, how is one supposed to get a good nap in when one is on guard against a return by an idiot mutt?

5:26 PM. Inside with the staff. Feeling more reasonable than I’ve been all day, but pointing out to her that she needs to be fully aware that I expect interior access to the house when she’s gone all day, and that I do not appreciate being cut off from my favourite sleeping spots inside. Besides which, how is one supposed to get a good nap in when one is on guard against a return by an idiot mutt?

5:54 PM. Watching the staff making dinner. On the one hand, there’s meat involved. On the other hand, she appears to be cooking Brussel sprouts.

6:39 PM. Dinner with the human. She’s having stewing beef with her sprouts- I have no idea what humans see in sprouts. I’m just having stewing beef, which she’s been thoughtful enough to cut up into nice cat sized bite portions for me. Very good, staff, very good.

8:42 PM. Lying in the living room, contemplating the great mysteries of life. How do I prove my hypothesis that the universe is one giant ball of string?

11:40 PM. The staff is off to bed. Very well, staff, but keep the door open. I may feel like walking all over you at three in the morning, and a closed door makes that quite inconvenient.