Faith Can Move Mountains... But Dynamite Works Better

Saturday, February 17, 2018

A Day In The Life Of A Cat

It is time, once more, for the point of view of the resident cat....

7:09 AM. Waking up at home. Yawning and taking a big stretch. Feeling well rested. Dreamed of chasing the red dot, and finally catching it.

7:12 AM. Gazing out at the vastness of my domain. Flying lunches around the feeders. If I was out there right now, I’d be in the midst of pouncing, so consider yourselves lucky there’s glass between me and you.

7:16 AM. Sounds from upstairs. The staff is getting ready for the day. Very well then. I shall wait for my breakfast. But don’t leave me waiting too long, staff, because I swear to Isis, if you do, there will be hell to pay.

7:24 AM. The staff finally comes downstairs. It took you long enough, you know. Now then, to breakfast. I have specific requirements that you should be seeing to. One of those, had you woke up a half hour earlier, would have been to place a plate in the fridge for a good chilling. We can’t have you do that the night before, it would be too cold. No, the optimum culinary experience requires slightly chilled plates for my breakfast. But as we’ve already established, you weren’t down here a half hour ago to prepare that. So we’ll just have to make do with what we’ve got.

7:25 AM. Making demands of the staff as she gets things going. She’s taken a can of tuna out from the pantry, so I know I’m getting some of that. A bowl of milk too, staff, and would it kill you not to bother with the field rations?

7:27 AM. The staff has set down my breakfast. I approve of the bowl of milk and plate of tuna. She persists in putting down a bowl of field rations too.

7:28 AM. I content myself with eating my tuna. I shall wash it down with milk, and ignore the field rations.

7:30 AM. Licking my chops and heading off into the living room to let the staff have her breakfast in peace. She’s got one of those work days again today, so I’m on my own. Well, I can get plenty of naps in, and as we all know, there is no such thing as too much napping.

7:38 AM. Hearing the sounds of distant barking. It’s that foul hound again, running around like the idiot he is, waking up the entire world, it seems. What purpose dogs serve in the universe is beyond me.

7:42 AM. Bidding farewell to the staff as she’s on her way out the front door. Now then, staff, if it’s not too much trouble, buy me another cat toy on your way home. Something bouncy and fluffy that I can bat under the piano with the rest of my cat toys.

7:44 AM. Watching the staff’s car pull out the driveway. Okay then, I’ll have to entertain myself for the rest of the day. In between naps. Naps are essential, after all.

8:22 AM. Hissing at the top of my lungs as that irritating mutt walks on my property. Hey! Get lost, you rotten dog!

8:23 AM. The annoying dog stares at me as if confused, while I curse his name. What part of go away do you not get?

8:24 AM. The foul hound takes his leave of my property. And don’t come back, you hear me? Don’t come back!

8:57 AM. I think that a nap is in order. Say three or four hours?

12:08 PM. Awake again. Feeling a bit hungry. As I finished off all of breakfast this morning, I shall have to go for some of those field rations.

12:44 PM. Watching some of those Winter Olympics on television. Will someone please explain to me what demented escapee from a lunatic asylum makes figure skaters dress like that?

1:31 PM. Distant barking down the road. The mailman is obviously on time as usual. And that foul hound is pissed off about it. Good.

2:21 PM. More of the Olympics. Downhill skiing. Thus far nobody’s suffered a catastrophic leg breaking fall. Too bad.

4:55 PM. Waking up from another nap. Dreamed of winning an Olympic medal for tangling up a ball of yarn.

5:32 PM. The staff arrives at home. Well, it’s about time, staff, I was about to send a search party out for you. Now then, have you put any thought into my dinner? Because between you and me, I’m feeling quite hungry right about now.

6:03 PM. Patiently supervising the staff while she’s making dinner. I smell the welcome scent of lamb chops.

6:41 PM. Dinner with the staff. She’s cut up a chop into nice bite sized pieces for me, and I am busy savouring it. I don’t know why she insists on having sprouts with hers, but then again, as I’ve observed before, human beings are quite strange at times.

8:02 PM. The staff is watching some of the Olympics coverage. I am busy calculating the velocity of someone hurtling head first down a course on a small metal frame. No doubt they call this sport skeleton because the athlete is increasing their chance of becoming one much sooner.

9:46 PM. My staff is caught up in watching curling. I don’t get it. Loud pants, loud players, and brooms and rocks on ice. Someone please explain the point of this whole thing to me. Is this some sort of bad joke?

11:26 PM. Bidding goodnight to my staff. Very well, staff. Good night. Keep the door open, though. I might be inclined to come up around four in the morning and scream lots of line into your ear.

Wednesday, February 14, 2018

A Day In The Life Of A Dog

It is time once more for the point of view of the dog and the cat, Winter Olympics edition. As always, I begin with the dog...

7:12 AM. Waking up at home. Dreamed of bacon. That qualifies as a good dream.

7:14 AM. Looking outside at freshly fallen snow. It might be winter, but the dawn’s coming earlier and earlier now. The sun will be showing up in a little bit, but it’s light enough to see things. No signs of squirrels, which is a good thing. If I see one of those little bastards on my property, I’m going to bark up a storm that’ll wake the dead.

7:17 AM. Wondering if the human’s going to want to watch any of those Olympics today. Why don’t they give out medals for good dogs?

7:21 AM. Wagging my tail as the human comes downstairs. Hello, human! Is it a great day today or is it an even better day? Say, have you thought about breakfast? Because I haven’t had a thing since those cookies I scarfed last night when you weren’t watching.

7:23 AM. The human is pouring me a bowl of kibbles. I’m thumping my tail in anticipation of a yummy breakfast.

7:24 AM. Licking my chops after devouring my breakfast. That was good!

7:29 AM. Asking the human to let me out for my run.

7:30 AM. Sprinting out the back door after the human has been kind enough to open it for me. See you later, human!

7:38 AM. Running through the back fields, barking at the clouds, feeling as happy as I can possibly be.

7:52 AM. Stopping by to see Spike the Magnificent, Tormentor of Squirrels. Hello, Spike!

7:54 AM. Spike and I confer on the origins of the Olympics. He suggests that the ancient Greeks might have found skiing peculiar. Well, obviously, they used to compete naked. Can you imagine naked people skiing downhill?

7:57 AM. Spike and I discuss movements of the enemy. He saw one of the squirrels earlier at the bird feeders when he was inside, but by the time his humans opened the door for him, that little bastard was already gone. They’re planning something, Spike, I’m telling you. It’s something nefarious and awful, I mean world domination level awful, and it must involve bird seed.

8:03 AM. Parting ways with Spike. See you later, I’ve got to get back home and see to it that my human’s carefully supervised.

8:19 AM. Stopping by the property where that cranky cat lives. I wonder if I should head up to the windows and bark hello.

8:22 AM. I have spotted the cat in one of the windows and she has spotted me. She is hissing up a storm and casting insults my way, no doubt about my parentage and legitimacy as a hound. I’ll have you know I am a perfectly well behaved yellow Lab. Except on those occasions when I’ve barked you out of a sound sleep in the summer, or chased the mayor up a tree, and let’s not even bring up the vet and the mailman.

8:24 AM. Taking my leave of the cat’s property. It’s no use. She’ll always view me as the enemy. When all I want to do is bark at her once or twice a week. 

8:37 AM. Returning home. Barking to alert the human to my return. It is I, Loki, Chewer Of Slippers and Annoyer of Mailmen. Open the door!

8:39 AM. Back inside after the human has applied the Towel of Torment to me. I have tolerated it, because I am, after all, a very good dog. I take to the living room, circle around three times, and promptly set off to sleep.

12:13 PM. Mooching a dinner roll off the human at lunch. Yum yum yum!

1:31 PM. Barking at the mailman as he drops mail off in the box and drives away. Get lost, you monster! What have I told you about never coming back here again? How many times do I have to keep telling you that?

3:49 PM. The human thoughtfully gives me an oatmeal cookie while she has her tea. Oh, that’s good!

5:38 PM. Watching the human as she’s in the kitchen. I hope there’s some meat involved in dinner. Because a good dog like me likes to have meat for dinner. And I am a good dog. A very good dog.

6:22 PM. Dinner with the human. She’s given me some stewing beef, which is quite to my satisfaction. For whatever reason, she insists on having carrots with hers.

8:17 PM. Watching some of the Winter Olympics coverage with the human. This being on the other side of the world, the time zones and when these things are actually happening is a little out of whack. I don’t know what they mean by time zones. I mean, time is time, isn’t it? Time is only important when it’s time for dinner. Or belly rubs. Anyway, human… why are those people throwing themselves on those little sleds and rocketing head first down the course? Are they trying to kill themselves?

9:38 PM. The human is absorbed watching some of the curling event. This is another thing I just don’t get. I mean, sweeping a rock across some ice? Did humans invent this sport when they were drinking some really bad alcohol?

11:48 PM. While the human is off to bed, I’ve decided to stay downstairs. I get the strangest sense that my dreams tonight are going to consist of rocks being swept down the ice and people screaming sweep away at the top of their lungs.