Faith Can Move Mountains... But Dynamite Works Better

Wednesday, June 28, 2017

A Day In The Life Of A Cat

The cat must always have the last word, and so here she is...


7:01 AM. Waking up. Big stretch. Slept well. Dreamed of flying lunches. Speaking of which, are they already out on the lawn or not?


7:03 AM. Sitting on the back of a chair, gazing out on my lawn. Indeed, the flying lunches are down there picking away among the grass. Perhaps for bugs. Well, whatever, they do make for pleasing scenery. My tail is thumping against the chair. If only this glass wasn’t between us, there’d be a lot of fun. For me, that is. It wouldn’t be much fun for you.


7:16 AM. Sounds from upstairs. The staff is busy getting ready for the day. Musing on whether or not to go up there and meow incessantly. I think today I shall be kind and await her presence. At least for no longer than ten minutes.


7:24 AM. Feeling impatient. And hungry. Shall we amend our earlier decision and go upstairs?


7:28 AM. The staff finally comes downstairs. Well, it’s about time, staff. I was about to go up there and howl like a banshee at you. Now then, have you put any thought into the all important task of making my breakfast?


7:30 AM. The staff has provided me with breakfast. A cold bowl of milk, a plate of chicken... and for whatever reason, more of those field rations. It doesn’t matter how many times I insist to her that I don’t like kibbles, she still puts them down. I suppose I could just tell her directly, but I would never lower myself to speak human.


7:31 AM. Contenting myself in eating my breakfast. Will leave the field rations aside.


7:33 AM. Leaving the staff to eat her breakfast in peace. Returning to my perch on the back of the chair to gaze out at my domain.


7:35 AM. Somewhere in the distance I can hear the barking of that foul hound. As long as I live, I will never understand the purposes dogs serve in the greater scheme of things.


7:43 AM. The staff is heading out the door for that work place she wanders off to during the day. Well, farewell, staff, but do be back in time at the end of the day. Unless you’re doing grocery shopping. In which case I expect you to come back with something to spoil me. Like a nice throw ball that I can promptly lose underneath the piano.


7:45 AM. Watching from the window as the staff’s car pulls out of the driveway. Very well then, time for me to entertain myself. Have to decide how much time to allot today to the critical task of napping. One can never have too many naps, after all.


7:58 AM. Musing on the great meaning of life questions. Is it true, as the philosopher Mrs. Drucilla Mittens of the Maine Coon Order once said, that the purr is the meaning of life?


8:02 AM. Twitching my tail while watching a squirrel out in the yard, digging in the lawn. Forgot where you placed that stash of nuts, did you?


8:24 AM. Watching the woods. Movement in the treeline. Wait a minute... is that the foul hound himself?


8:25 AM. The irritating mutt pauses at the treeline before heading back into the woods. Oh, he saw me. Thought the better of it and beat a hasty retreat. And don’t come back, you hear me? Don’t come back!


9:17 AM. Well, all things being such as they are, I think a nap would be in order right about now.


12:03 PM. Waking up. Slept well. Taking a big stretch. Feeling a bit peckish.


12:04 PM. Back in the kitchen. Feeling slightly disappointed as I remember that all that’s left are the field rations.


12:05 PM. Despite my reservations, I help myself to the field rations. When in dire straits, as they say...


12:22 PM. News story on the television about the Canada Day holiday on the weekend. Which of course will include fireworks in town. Or as we cats call them, the demonic sirens of hell unleashed. I'm so glad I live in the country.


1:36 PM. The distant barking of that annoying mutt interrupts my nap. Hmmm, from his tone and the time of day, he’s yelling at the mailman. Oh, shut up, dog, just let the man do his job already without waking me up so rudely from my well deserved nap.


5:29 PM. The staff comes in the front door. It’s about time, staff! I was about to send out the cavalry to go look for you.


6:03 PM. Supervising the staff while she makes dinner. The meat smells good, staff. 


6:42 PM. Settling down to dinner with the staff. Some chunks of beef for me. For whatever reason, she’s having hers in a casserole with potatoes and broccoli. What is it about broccoli that seems to appeal to my staff? If you ask me, that stuff is atrocious.


8:51 PM. Launching into a full speed sprint around the house just to see if I can break my all time fastest record. And to make the staff wonder if I’ve lost my mind. After all, driving her crazy is one of life’s great pleasures.


11:28 PM. The staff is off to bed. Okay, staff, sleep well. Do keep the door open, though. I expect to be able to jump up on your bed at three in the morning if it so crosses my mind to do, after all.

Monday, June 26, 2017

A Day In The Life Of A Dog

It is time once again for the perspective of the hound and kitty, starting as always with that of the hound...


7:02 AM. Waking up at home. Slept reasonably well. Dreamed of chasing the vet and the mailman, until they fell into a moat filled with crocodiles. Now that’s the kind of dream that should really come true. I’m just saying.


7:06 AM. Taking a look outside. Sun and cloud. The human keeps expecting a heat wave anytime soon. I mean, it is summer now, right? Right. But it still hasn’t happened. Oh well, enjoy it while it lasts, Loki. When the heat and humidity come, you’ll want to play in the sprinklers. Which is fun and all, but it ends up resulting in being subjected to the Towel Of Torment.


7:11 AM. Staring out at the front lawn. Hey! Birds! Who said you could roam around on the grass! Do I have to come out there and bark at you?


7:19 AM. Wagging my tail furiously when the human comes downstairs. Hello, human! Fine day, isn’t it? The sort of day that makes you feel tail waggingly happy to be alive. Say, have you put any thought into breakfast? I’m just saying, I’m a little bit peckish, and I could use a good meal before heading off on my run.


7:21 AM. Wolfing down a big bowl of kibbles. Yum yum yum!


7:22 AM. Licking my chops. Well, I came close to breaking the record for fastest consumption of my breakfast, but not quite fast enough. When we’re talking about seconds, just a few seconds make a difference. I wonder if that’s the same way sprinters feel.


7:24 AM. The human lets me out for a run. Bye, human!


7:33 AM. Running through the back fields, barking my head off, deliriously happy.


7:46 AM. Coming around a bend in the woods. Stopping in my tracks at the sight of some very slow movement up ahead on the path. Oh boy. It’s a turtle.


7:47 AM. I have taken up position behind the turtle. He’s taking his sweet time.


7:48 AM. Say, fellow, some of us have places to be today. I’d venture off the path, but I know there’s those thorny plants that make my paws go ouch in that grass.


7:49 AM. The turtle takes a right hand turn and I sprint off ahead down the path, happy as a lark.


8:06 AM. Stopping in to see Spike the Magnificent, Tormentor of Squirrels. Hello, Spike!


8:07 AM. Spike and I finish greeting each other in the customary doggie fashion and start talking about the really important stuff. Like the devious plans of the squirrels and our five times a week duty to harass the mailman.


8:11 AM. Spike reminds me that on the weekend they’ll be marking Canada Day. That always ends with the fireworks in town. Or as dogs call them, the horrible boom noise terror. Fortunately we live far enough out in the countryside around here that those are just muffled in the distance. I can’t imagine what it’s like for a doggie in town. Or a cat, for that matter.


8:14 AM. Well, Spike, I’ll see you later. Got to go make sure my human’s behaving.


8:25 AM. Stopping in the woods on my way home. I see that cranky cat in one of the back windows at her home. She doesn’t seem terribly impressed with me. Oh well, I’ll behave myself and just leave. See? I’m leaving! I’m completely capable of behaving myself, you know.


8:39 AM. Returning home. Barking to alert the human to my presence. She lets me in. Fortunately since it hasn’t been raining and I haven’t been jumping in mud or puddles, I am free to avoid the Towel of Torment and can now take a nap.


11:17 AM. Waking up from my nap. Checking the clock. Oh, good, I haven’t missed lunch.


12:23 PM. Have successfully mooched a couple of dinner rolls from the human. Yum yum yum!


1:36 PM. Barking up a storm at the mailman as he drives by the house and stops to drop off some mail. Hey! Get lost! Yeah, I’m talking to you! Don’t ever come back here again, you hear me???? Don’t you ever come back again!


3:49 PM. The human is having tea. I am contentedly chewing on an oatmeal cookie I have successfully mooched from her. Life is good.


5:26 PM. The human is in from chores and making dinner. So what are we having tonight?


6:17 PM. Well, she’s made spaghetti and meatballs for herself. I’ve got some nice tasty ground beef in my bowl, which I seriously approve of, though I wonder why I can’t have the pasta too? Come on, how much of a mess could I possibly make? And are you going to finish up all that garlic bread by yourself?


8:52 PM. Pondering the great mysteries of life. Is the tummy rub the end-all be-all of existence?


11:40 PM. The human is off to bed. Well, good night, human! I will safeguard the house against all intruders, big or small, and will bark up a storm if any of them try to get in. Of course, I’ll probably just bark up a storm for absolutely no reason at four in the morning, but that’s beside the point, right? Of course right.