Updated: Mar 6
“Wake up. Wake up. Wake up!”
I didn’t even have to open my eyes to know that this wake-up alarm was the courtesy of the neighbourhood robin back at his daily routine of annoying me with his shrill chirps. It seemed as though the little cretin had made it his life’s mission to taunt me at every opportunity he got. I really didn’t want to start my day by seeing his ugly face but going back to sleep wasn’t an option anymore. It’s too bad that there was a glass window acting as a barrier between us or else he would have made a great snack. Nevertheless, I knew that there would come a day when I could finally lay my paws on him and blissfully get my revenge. With that gratifying thought in mind, I twitched my whiskers and let out a soft, mean growl. In response, he let out one last smug chirp and swiftly flew away, I’m assuming, to ‘spread his cheer’ to the world. So long... jerk!
Stretch. Roll over and a biggggg yawn. I sat up on the comfy plush rug, bathing in the glory of the morning sun. A detailed inspection of the room was in order and I decided my first stop would be the long, oval mirror. The mirror was an uplifter of spirits and after my encounter with the annoying bird, I could certainly use all the upliftment I could get. I let out a satisfied purr as I imbibed the magnificence of the sight before me. Clear, blue eyes. A lean healthy physique. Soft creamy fur that just screams Persian. Ahhh, I was the embodiment of beauty in the form of a cat and the mirror reaffirming that truth was enough for me to get through this day. Self love truly was the best form of love out there, one that I reveled in, much to the displeasure of many. Unlike other lowly creatures (hint: they bark), I didn’t need validation from anyone except from myself and if some ignorant human wants to call that narcissism, so be it.
Speaking of ignorant humans, I looked up at my human, Angela, still soundly sleeping in her bed. Angela has been my sole companion ever since she chose to adopt me from the farm three years ago. There is no denying that she loved and cared for me very much, however even she was not without certain faults when it came to dealing with an elite species. Like me.
First of all, she’s always finding ways to baby me. Carrying me around everywhere, trying to bathe me, calling me obnoxious names to which she knows I’ll never ever respond, the list is endless. I know...she’s 29 years old, the maternal hormones are kicking in and based on her subpar love life, she might think of me as her last resort to have something similar to that of a child. But she has to understand that I’m NOT an ‘itty bitty’ kitten anymore and that I have outgrown the coddling stage. Another instance of her ignorance would be that the woman does not understand the concept of space. Which is ironic because she dumped her last boyfriend on the account of him being too intrusive and overstepping boundaries. I get it that I’m cute and unbelievably irresistible, but sometimes I wish she would just keep her hands to herself and leave me alone. Why is that if she wants space, it makes her a mature, reasonable woman but if I want it, I’m made into an ungrateful moron? This brings me to Angela’s most grave error of all, from time to time, she dares to compare me to the barking golden fuzzball next door! Instead of being grateful for having a self-sufficient, composed creature of the superior order, she longs to have one that would jump and slobber all over her. Now that’s some rubbish I could never understand.
“Miffy, you’re up?”
Angela’s hoarse morning voice interrupted my ponderings and I let out a soft meow as a reply. I jumped up on the bed and I laid down beside her, letting her run her fingers through my fur. Usually she would make some sort of conversation with me, but today she was very quiet. This could only mean one thing and the red stains on the sheets confirmed my hunch. It was a Sunday which meant that she would take her time to get up, sometimes even skipping breakfast and lunch altogether. Thankfully, she had brought a Cat Mate C3000 for me which automatically dispenses my food at periodic intervals, so that even when she wasn’t here or was too lazy on days like today, my meals wouldn’t be disrupted. Isn’t that just lovely? That’s one of the things I love about Angela, she understands how important food is to me. Wait, is that a rattle I hear? Breakfast? Off I go!
Nom. Nom. Nom. Now that was a scrumptious meal! It’s time to groom myself now. A very important component of cat etiquette is grooming ourselves. There’s nothing like the satisfaction of licking myself clean and I make sure to devote at least half an hour each day to maintain my appearance. It’s like meditation for cats and helps us to deal with stress and boredom. While I indulged in my 10-step deep cleaning routine, Angela came into the living room, plopped herself on the couch and began surfing through Netflix. I could sense that she was feeling sad and if there’s anything that I can’t stand other than ignoble animals, it’s mopey humans. Whenever I sense gloom in the air, I automatically start purring like a humidifier that can’t stop till it gets rid of the droopy air. I got up on the couch, gave Angela one of my cheer up head nudges and curled up on her lap. She was watching Downton Abbey, one of the more classier shows out there, that I actually enjoyed watching. My eyes are getting a bit heavy though, maybe I’ll just listen to the dialo-.........
Well, I ended up taking a nap, which unfortunately meant I missed three entire episodes of the show. Sigh. I had my lunch and subsequently groomed myself once again. Angela had gone back to her room, but she had left the backyard door open, which meant that it was playtime! I strolled over to the grass and rolled around for a little while. Usually I would just lay there sunbathing, but after the long nap and meal, I was feeling rejuvenated. I decided to work on my hunting skills which would come in very handy if I wanted any luck in catching Mr. Robin-Hood. I started by scratching the fence and sharpening my claws. Usually I would do this on Angela’s boyfriends’ faces to signal my disapproval of her choice of suitor, but lately she’s been pretty single. Maybe that’s another reason as to why she’s so moody? Oh well, what could I-
Oh, a butterfly! I ran across the grass, strategizing as to how to make my moves, when I felt that someone was watching me. I peeked through the corner of my eye, to see Angela watching me through her bedroom window. She loves to watch me play and if that would make her day less miserable, then I would put on a show for her. I crouched down on the grass following the butterfly’s flight through my eyes and got into my pouncing stance. I started wiggling my behind, getting ready to attack, the pose that Angela absolutely adored. When I was sure that the butterfly was in my reach, I leaped, but it slipped away from my paws and I fell down back into the grass with a thud. I could hear faint chuckles coming from behind me and usually I would be offended by that. Today though, I had succeeded in making Angela happy when she was at her worst and that was much more worth it than any stupid butterfly. Oh look there’s a rabbit there! I bet I could catch him easily!
Nightfall had come upon us and Angela was still cooped up in her room. I spent the rest of the evening playing with an assortment of toys that Angela constantly buys me (the only part of her babying that actually worked in my favour). There was this ball of yarn that I absolutely loved unraveling, Brownie, the teddy bear and a folding tunnel through which I could crawl and hide. There’s only so many hours that a cat can pass playing and I had reached my quota for the day. I decided to check up on Angela and walked over to her room, only to hear her whimpering softly in pain. I jumped up on the bed and began pushing my paws into her stomach. One of my signature moves to ease her cramps and she fondly calls it ‘making biscuits’. The logic behind the name I’ll never know but again, humans are weird.
She smiles at me through tearful eyes and I can tell that she’s now grateful that she has me instead of the likes of golden fuzzball next door. It’s probably why she’s never bought one home, till date, even though she often talks about it. Maybe it’s only to make me feel jealous? Haha, the joke’s on her, I’ll never feel jealous of that inferior being. In addition, felines are known to be unfeeling and selfish, so why would I even care? Smirking internally, I curl up on her stomach and decide that this will be my resting place for tonight and Angela sighs in content. Just to be clear, I’m not doing this for her. I’m just doing it because...because…
“You love me.” Angela says softly to a fast asleep Miffy.