I has been having some catty contemplation. I always does this on a Sunday. I always thinks of the week ahead. It's going to be a tough one. I'll probably have the zoomies around 4am. Then I'll have a nap. Then I'll get up, with my hooman, eat some chicken in jelly, wash myself...and have a post-nap nap. Then I has to be on squirrel watching duty. After that, I'll need to crunch some biscuits. Then I'll attack some furniture. Another nap. A big wee. A liberal scattering of litter. Staring at walls 'til my hooman says 'what are you looking at, Frankie?' Walking around chatting. Another nap. And, most of the rest of the week is looking just as hectic. I is exhausted just thinking about it. I hope my hooman realises just how tough life can be, as a cat.
It's not easy being a cat. Aside from fitting in at least 16 hours of naps each day, I has many important cat jobs I must do. I has to wash my human, so he doesn't smell. I has to play with my hooman, so he doesn't get bored. I has to show him my fluffy belly, and purr when he rubs it, to keep him happy. I has to keep him warm, by sitting on him. I has to check that any boxes in my home are up to standard. I has to help him when he's changing the bedding in the napping room. I could keep going. It honestly feels like my list of jobs is never-ending. It's exhausting. But one of my main jobs, which is very important, is to be chief cupboard inspector. I has to make sure all cupboards are up to my standards, that they're clean, and that they contain at least one tin of toona. My hooman only partly passed the last cupboard inspections. One cupboard had dust in. The other had no toona. I has raised my concerns with my hooman by meowing loudly, and scratching the big,...
I has had a poorly. I has had a sore eye. I'm not sure what's wrong with it, but my hooman looked at it and said 'Hmmm, it looks a bit red'. So he took me to see the catty doctor. I'm not a huge fan of going to see the catty doctor. First, my hooman has to put me in a big box, which he carries. I finds this confusing, so I meow. I also don't like it when he puts me in the moving thing that goes 'vroom'. The movement makes me feel a bit strange, so I meow in protest. We had to wait for the catty doctor, then he called my name. He took me out of the big box, stroked my head, which was nice...then prodded my tummy a bit... then said something about 'skin abrasion'. Then he put me on a big flat thing and said... 'Well, he's put on quite a bit of weight... you may have to give him less treats'. Rude catty doctor! I is a lean, mean, hunting machine! I was going to hiss at him, but my hooman was giving me some nice ear scritches, to keep me ...
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