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.

A Day In The Life Of A Dog

 It is time again for the perspective of the dog and the cat. As is always the case, we begin with the dog's point of view, what with him getting distracted so easily.

7:00 AM. Waking up. Slept very well. Considering more sleep. But no... breakfast is also a priority.

7:03 AM. Looking outside. Sun's up, birds on the lawn. And a rabbit. Low growl, but there's nothing much I can do. Rabbits are faster than I am. And less annoying than squirrels.

7:09 AM. Waiting on the human to get downstairs and see to my breakfast. After all, I can't really do anything in terms of opening cupboards. More's the pity.

7:17 AM. Thumping my tail furiously on the floor as the human comes downstairs. Good morning, human! Fine day, isn't it? The sort of day that makes you want to get out there and do things. But first things first. How about some breakfast?

7:19 AM. Watching the human pour a big bowl of kibbles. 

Oh boy oh boy oh boy.....

7:20 AM. Licking my chops after polishing off breakfast three seconds short of my all time fastest.

That was good!

7:24 AM. Inquiring with the human as to if she'll let me out for a run.

7:25 AM. Out the door and on my way. See you later, human!

7:35 AM. Running through the back fields, barking my head off, feeling as happy as I can possibly be.

7:50 AM. Stopping in to see Spike the Magnificent, Tormentor of Squirrels. Hey, Spike!

7:51 AM. After Spike and I have done the standard doggie greetings, we get to talking about the critical issues of the day. Like what the mailman might be up to today.

7:54 AM. Spike and I discuss the coming summer. I don't know about you, Spike, but personally I prefer cooler temperatures. I know, we can't expect that, but it would be nice, wouldn't it?

8:10 AM. Parting ways with Spike. As usual, he promises to keep me advised when the mailman shows up outside his place so I can be on the alert.

It is the sacred duty of every good dog to bark at the mailman.

8:23 AM. Wandering through the woods on my way home, feeling content.

Wait a minute.... is that...?

It is!

It's that damned squirrel!!!!

8:24 AM. Carefully stalking the squirrel. He doesn't see me. Getting closer. So close now. And...

Damn it! The little bastard saw me!!!

8:27 AM. Circling around a tree. Up above, that damned squirrel is chirping away and taunting me.

Oh, how I hate you....

8:30 AM. Okay, enough of this. He's not coming down. Time to go home.

One of these days, squirrel, you'll let your guard down.

And I'll be there.

8:46 AM. Barking at the door to let the human know I'm back.

She opens the door. Human? I hate squirrels.

10:33 AM. Scarfing a cookie from the human while she has coffee.

12:08 PM. Using my patented mooching eyes look to convince the human to part with a ham and cheese sandwich.

1:30 PM. Barking at the mailman as he drops stuff off at the mailbox.

6:45 PM. Dinner with the human. She's made apple pancakes and has cut me up a plateful.

Human? I love you.

11:30 PM. The human is off to bed. Good night, human. Sleep well. 

If there's lightning in the night, I shall bravely come upstairs and take up position under the covers of your bed.

Return Of The Cancer Widow

It is a universally accepted truth that they never know when to quit, when to give up, when to go away and find an honest line of work. They persist in sending us emails with get rich quick schemes or tug on the heartstrings scams (note: I don't have a heart). They send us spam comments in our posts. I speak, of course, of that vile lot of humanity (barely) that I call homo sapiens spammeritis irritatingus. The internet scammer and spammer. Back in September 2023, I featured one from a typical Cancer Widow scammer, Debbie Grant, with the following sad story. After the bloated Orange Tumor, who is a scammer all on his own.

May the peace of God be with you and your family. I know it will be a great surprise reading from me today but consider this a divine intervention as a pastor explained to my understanding. My name is Mrs. Deborah Grant, a widow from the United State Of America Married in Turkey, and am writing you from my sick bed because I have been fighting cancer and the doctor says I have only a few weeks left. I want to entrust my money (USD 8.5 million) to your care for charity purposes to help the less privileged as my late husbands' relatives want me dead so that they will claim all my late husband and I worked for.I will tell you more about myself and what you need to do with the money once you receive it. Please write me soon as my health is pretty bad and my doctor says I will be moved to the intensive care unit anytime soon. Have a blessed day and please pray for me. God bless you.

Yours Mrs. Debbie Grant

Sad, isn't it? If it was real, which it is not. I received comments recently that Debbie Grant is still alive. She's still sending that same email to random strangers trying to get some poor sucker to send the inevitable 'administration fee' of a few thousand dollars that would come up if someone was dumb enough to believe it. Even to the point of featuring a photograph of a sick woman in a hospital bed. That they probably acquired through stock photos. For a woman dying of cancer like she claimed nearly two years ago, living this long is astonishing.

But there's no cancer. Because it's just a story. A bad one at that. Written by a scammer whose real name isn't Debbie Grant. Because the name Debbie makes one think of a kind grandmother- I should know; I know a Debbie who's exactly that. Whoever they really are is someone at the far end of a daisy chain of email accounts that probably ends somewhere in Russia, or another dark corner of the world, sending this crap out there and hoping someone is gullible enough to believe it.

Cancer isn't a joke, and it's wrong to wish it on someone. But there are exceptions. I would say that the sort of person who is so amoral as to use cancer for their own benefit- the sort of person who weaves this kind of lie, for instance- more than deserves it. They deserve the kind of cancer that leaves them in agony until their last day, that no painkiller is effective against, that utterly destroys their body systematically. Pure hell, before they end up in Hell.

As someone who's lost too many people to cancer, that is the level of my animosity to someone who uses the Cancer Widow scam, "Debbie."

It's sad to see that this person is still trying to scam people with this fake story, but hardly surprising. Scammers and spammers do not change, not even their story and their modus operandi. But time will tell, and one day, sooner or later, they'll meet the bad end that they more than deserve.

And on that particular day, they'll be escorted straight to Hell by this not so friendly fellow.