A Day In The Life Of A Cat

And now it is time for the point of view of the cat, that supreme being who deserves all the respect that is more than due to her.

7:04 AM. Waking up. Slept well. Dreamed of sitting on a throne, surveying the vastness of my domain.

7:07 AM. An examination of the exterior from the back of the couch. Flying lunches around the feeders. More snow on the ground during the night. And that sky has the look of more snow coming to it.

7:10 AM. Waiting on the staff to get downstairs and see to my breakfast. After all, it is her job. Besides, I lack the opposable thumbs to work a can opener.

7:15 AM. Come on, staff, I can hear you upstairs. Do I have to come up there and meow at you? 

7:22 AM. The staff finally comes downstairs. It's about time, staff. I was this close to sending a search party after you.

7:23 AM. ....and remember, staff, I don't want any field rations. Are we clear on that? No field rations. I don't get why you persist in giving them to me.

7:25 AM. The staff puts down a bowl of milk and a plate of chicken. These meet my approval.

A second bowl containing field rations does not.

7:27 AM. I have finished with the milk and meat. I shall ignore the field rations and leave the staff to her breakfast in peace.

7:34 AM. Sitting on the back of the couch. Somewhere in the distance I can hear the barking of that foul hound.

7:41 AM. The staff is on her way out the door to that work place she goes to. 

Staff? Don't forget to bring back milk.

7:44 AM. I watch as the car pulls out the driveway. Will have to occupy myself for the day. Naps, of course, are always a good endeavour in that regard.

8:23 AM. More barking from that damned dog. Sounds irritated.

Good.

9:02 AM. Weather Network predicting a blizzard coming in this afternoon. Which means the milk, bread, and storm chips will be swiftly bought out at every store, as is Canadian tradition.

9:15 AM. Okay, all things being as they are, I think a good long nap is in order. 

10:48 AM. Waking up. Slept well.  Feeling hungry.

10:50 AM. Dismayed as I come into the kitchen. Right, the only thing out in the open would be those field rations.

Oh well, when in Rome...

1:30 PM. Distant barking from down the road. Bloody mutt. The mailman is just doing his job. What part of that is so hard for you to understand?

1:51 PM. The front door opens. The staff walks in with groceries, and the snow is blowing outside. Get in here, staff, don't let all the heat out.

1:54 PM. The staff is unpacking groceries, saying that everyone was sent home early because of the blizzard.

I am more attentive to the fact that she's restocking the milk.

3:24 PM. Cuddle time with the staff.

This meets with my approval.

5:51 PM. So then, staff, tell me... what were you thinking for dinner?

6:32 PM. Dinner with the staff. She's made bacon pancakes, and has cut some up for me. 

Very good, staff, very good indeed.

8:02 PM. The staff is watching the Weather Channel. They're talking about this storm which they've christened Snowpocalypse Now. 

Come on, guys, it's starting to sound like you might bring back that guy in the lunatic asylum as a forecaster... the guy who kept panicking over five centimeters of snow and saying we'd all be in a Donner Party situation.

11:17 PM. The staff is off to bed. Good night, staff. Sleep well. But keep the door open.

I mean, I don't want to be yelling at the door at three in the morning when I feel like walking all over you.