So, this day did not begin well. My minions have not yet arisen from the giant sleeping area. Disgusted. How is a feline supposed to exist under such circumstances? The round pellets of flavour are supposed to be served by this hour. I could hear the short-haired minion’s waking call repeatedly going off. How can he sleep through such a hellish racket? Especially knowing that I, the creature of his adulation, was awaiting my morning sustenance. I am beyond belief. I cannot even make them aware of their horrific blunder by one of my usual tactics because the god forsaken door to the giant sleeping area is closed.
Under these circumstances, if said door is open, I would assume my first position – on the head of one or other of the minions. It is especially fruitful if I can irritate the long-haired minion by chewing at her head-fur. My comrade, the imbecile, usually does this by way of affection. For me, I use it as a way to merely stimulate attention. Sometimes it backfires, I must confess. I have been catapulted to the floor at an alarming speed by one of their limbs – and without enough time to bite back. That was not a good day either. If that position is to no avail I will assume position two. This involves considerable effort as I must run around the giant sleeping apparatus almost continually. Once I reach one side or the other it is essential that I line up my target correctly and jump, with ferocity right onto their lungs or their intestinal area. I know it makes an impact as I hear their screams. Well, the short-haired minion has been known to sleep through it, but the long-haired one has usually had enough after three or four attempts.
The door between us is still closed and no sign of life from within. I cannot be expected to live in this pitiful existance. Something must be done. The floppy one, the imbecile, is trying to conquer the closed doorway. Idiot. Every day he tries this. And then he tries to talk to them. Talking is of no use. They cannot comprehend our language. There’s is an inferior one that ranges from squeaky sing-song nonsense to barking-like sounds that usually signal one or other member of the household is in trouble. I usually exit promptly upon hearing that noise, just in case I am the one to be barked at. I cannot abide such vulgarity.
At last the short-haired one has emerged from his pit. I made my annoyance clear with one long, resounding syllable. He took this to be an affectionate greeting. Idiot. Just bring me my round pellets of flavour, servant. Ahh that beautiful pitter-patter sound as they hit the bowl. Life might just be liveable once again.
The short-haired one has left through the door to the scary place. He won’t be back for many hours. The long-haired one is awake now but is refusing to let me have any of her yoghurt. She always used to produce a shiny object from which we could lick the yoghurt, but since I had my long stint at the vets it seems to have been banned. I can also squeeze through smaller gaps now. I wonder if the two are linked?
The other one, the one who is often either in her own giant sleeping place at the other end of the hallway, is now present too. I don’t trust this one yet. She is a recent addition to the household and looks at me like she knows something. I trust no one. Except the long-haired one and the short-haired one – and that is merely because they provide the food and keep the lavatory area clean… well, reasonably clean. I would prefer it was never used by the idiot feline but unfortunately I can’t seem to stop him. Happily, I have found another, much larger area in which to go – it is in the same place where they wash themselves. Sometimes, on terrible days, they make us wash in there too. I have to say it does save me the bother of doing it myself, but I still put up a fight just to exercise my rights and authority over them.
The idiot tried to ambush me in the hallway but I was too smart for him. I hissed and roared in a very scary manner and he has left me be for now. I have no time for such petty nonsense.
That silly white furball has tried to mess up my beautiful furs by attacking me – I took chase, we tumbled about a bit, but then I managed to nip him hard on the ear… I let him chase me for that, as I was feeling in generous spirit. My good mood is due to the opening of a new bag of the small pellets of flavour – they tasted like heaven. Almost as good as the steaks the minions cook. Mind you, my skills at forcing them to share their dinner seems not to have been successful of late. I must try some new tactics – they are clearly too stupid to understand my needs.
Home has been quiet for some time now – all the minions have gone through the door to the scary place and left me with the idiot and that stupid bird. The bird, as usual, has been talking to itself and disturbing my sleep. I got up but was very annoyed to find there was nothing left in my bowl. That idiot feline must have been getting fat on the pellets again. Greedy delinquint. Yawwwwwn. I will sit at the window for a while… oh, am feeling quite sleepy….
Have had a fabulous sleep disturbed only by the Other one returning from the scary place. She is of no use, as she does not release any food. I don’t trust her anyway so I try to avoid her. She tried to pet me before. I gave her a warning growl. I don’t like to scare unnecessarily but attempts to enter my personal space without my consent will NOT be tolerated. If she tries it again I shall have to step things up. I cannot be held responsible for the casualties in such a case.
Dinner was served at the appropriate hour which has almost made up for the poor timings of this morning’s breakfast. I obviously made my feelings clear on that matter. Currently I am sat outside, as the door to the outside place was opened while the minions were hanging out the wet clothes. On this matter, I have noted that the blanket in my bed has not been cleaned in over several weeks. I have tried to explain their error to them but alas they do not comprehend. I won’t sleep in it until it’s clean again. But that’s ok, their pillows are just as comfortable.
Upon my evening stroll through the premises I have spotted a trespasser from afar. Lurking in the tunnel that the idiot loves to play in – it was given to us by the minions as a plaything… as if I would lower myself to such juvenile games. I am a predator. A great hunter. What sport is there in a stripey, flimsy tunnel with holes in, and fluffy balls hanging from its innards? Ridiculous. Anyway, I have been watching my prey for several minutes… I will now begin my stalking. I hope the idiot is taking notes from an expert in the field.
Slowly, carefully now, you don’t know what lurks there, it might be a fearsome creature.
Nothing you can’t handle.
Come on now.. careful, careful… stay low… and – POUNCE!
HA- Oh damn you, you ridiculous cretin! Get out of my way!!
It was the stupid feline, sleeping… as usual. In the tunnel. I will have to go in search of a moth to keep my mind active for now. I know my big killing will come. If only they’d leave me alone with that bird out of it’s cage for five minutes.
I can dream.