And now it is once again time for the perspective of that most regal of beings to ever walk the earth, the cat, who must always have the last word in everything.
7:06 AM. Waking up. Yawning and allowing myself a big stretch to see the day in. Slept exceedingly well. Dreamed of vast fields of catnip.
7:09 AM. Inspecting the exterior from the back of the couch. Flying lunches out there pecking at the grass, and it looks like we've had frost in the night. Well, winter is coming.
7:12 AM. Waiting on the staff to get down here and see to my breakfast.
7:21 AM. The staff finally gets downstairs. It's about time, staff, I was about to organize a search party to go after you.
Now then, let's see to the important matters. Breakfast.
7:22 AM. Explaining in great detail my specific requirements. No field rations, are we clear? I don't want them. I do expect some meat and a bowl of milk, however, that's a given. But no field rations.
7:23 AM. The staff provides me a plate of chicken and a bowl of milk, which meet with my approval. However, she continues to include a bowl of field rations, which I am compelled to ignore.
7:25 AM. Finished with my breakfast. Have ignored the field rations. Will let the staff have her breakfast in peace.
7:34 AM. Sitting on the back of the couch. Somewhere in the distance, I can hear the incessant barking of that foul mutt from down the road.
Stupid dog.
7:42 AM. The staff is on her way out the door to go to that work place she insists on being in for the better part of the week. Staff? A reminder, we could always use more milk.
7:44 AM. Watching the staff pull out of the driveway in her car. Well, strictly speaking it's my car, but I let her drive it.
8:01 AM. Watching the Weather Network. They're predicting a colder winter than usual for the area. That suits me fine. I'm an indoor cat anyway.
10:02 AM. Okay, I've been up for a really long time, and I think a long nap is in order.
1:30 PM. Woken up out of a sound sleep by distant barking. Checking the clock. The mailman must be making a stop. Damned dog, he's just doing his job.
1:45 PM. On my rounds of the house. Have noticed the linen closet ajar. Peeking inside.
1:47 PM. My inspection of the interior has unearthed a ball of yarn.
What to do, what to do....
2:34 PM. Have spent nearly three quarters of an hour unravelling the yarn through every bit of the house. Thoroughly pleased with myself for my efforts.
4:51 PM. The staff returns home, bearing grocery bags. She notices trails of yarn from the front door, and asks me what I've been up to.
I have no idea what you're talking about.
5:24 PM. Yarn spooled back up, and groceries put away. I head bump against the staff's legs as a show of my affection.
6:32 PM. Dinner with the staff. She's made bacon pancakes, and has seen fit to provide me with some, chopped up into bite sized pieces. Very good, staff.
7:05 PM. Leaving the staff to see to the dishes. After all, that's not a job for cats. We lack the opposable thumbs to clutch dishes, and hot soapy water is not our friend.
8:32 PM. Lying on the couch, pondering the great mysteries of existence. What is the meaning of the purr?
9:51 PM. The staff is finishing up one of those silly Hallmark movies. Staff, these movies are all exactly the same. Same formula and rotating casts.
11:30 PM. The staff is off to bed. Good night, staff, sleep well. But keep the door open.
I have zoomies scheduled for two thirty.
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