All Hail The Infernal Summer

 Summer arrives this week, and I will be glad to see it end. At any rate, I have an image blog for the occasion.

A Day In The Life Of A Cat

And now it is time for the perspective of the divine being we know as the cat, for she must always have the last word in everything.

7:05 AM. Waking up. Slept exceedingly well. Dreamed of vast fields of catnip.

7:07 AM. Examining the exterior from the back of the couch. Flying lunches out singing and pecking around at the grass.

7:12 AM. Waiting on the staff to get down here and make me some breakfast. After all, attending to my wants and needs should be her first priority of the day.

7:20 AM. The staff finally gets downstairs. It's about time, staff, I was starting to wonder. Now then, have you put any thought into seeing to my breakfast?

7:22 AM. Explaining to the staff about my specific breakfast requirements. But as usual, she's not listening, because she's taken out that bag of field rations.

7:24 AM. The staff puts down a plate of tuna and a bowl of milk. These I approve of.

I do not approve of the bowl of field rations.

7:26 AM. Walking away after finishing the tuna and milk. Have ignored the field rations. Will let the staff have her breakfast in peace and quiet.

7:33 AM. Somewhere off in the distance I hear the barking of that foul hound from down the road. Just as long as he doesn't come here, or there'll be hell to pay...

7:40 AM. The staff is off, going to that work place she goes to five days a week. Staff? We're running low on milk, just saying.

7:43 AM. Watching the staff's departure from the driveway.

Now, what shall I get up to today?

8:02 AM. Watching the Weather Channel. They're predicting thunderstorms for late in the night.

This may result in zoomies.

8:30 AM. In the general direction of the woods, that stupid mutt is barking his head off. Sounds frustrated.

Good.

10:25 AM. Waking up from a nap. Big stretch.

Think I'll do myself a favour and take another nap.

12:58 PM. Lunch time. But the only thing out in the open is that bowl of field rations.

Oh well. When in Rome....

1:30 PM. I can hear that damned dog barking again. A glance at the clock confirms it's about time for the mailman to be making his rounds through this area.

That dog does realize a mailman is just doing their job, right?

4:26 PM. Waking up from another nap. Still no sign of the staff.

5:07 PM. The staff makes her way in the front door. It's about time, staff.

Now then, do we have enough milk?

5:10 PM. Supervising the staff while she unpacks groceries. Or to be more precise, su-purr-vising.

Ah, good, staff. Milk.

5:54 PM. The staff is making dinner. I approve of the smells. Ground beef suits me nicely.

6:28 PM. A plate of meatloaf, cut up into small bites, just for me. Very good, staff, very good indeed.

She insists on having potatoes and cauliflower with hers. Go figure.

7:02 PM. Leaving the staff to handle the dishes. After all, soapy water and I don't mix.

8:31 PM. Pondering the great mysteries of existence. Does life hold meaning beyond the scratching post?

11:30 PM. The staff is off to bed. Good night, staff, sleep well. But keep the door open. Since it's the weekend, I may let you sleep in tomorrow.

2:40 AM. Snuggling in with the staff. Thunderstorm outside. Best to keep her company anyway.

After all, she feeds me.