A Christmas Tail

Wait! This is not turning into a cat-thread. It’s a one-off, I swear! Let me explain…

We’re currently looking after a cat for one of our daughters but had to spend Christmas in the UK. So we asked a friend to cat-sit. After a few days, text messages began to arrive from the cat. Clearly, she was writing a diary and sending it to us, her “pride.” I share these with you…

Diary of a Sour Puss

Day 5

Another day with this intolerable, bald, tailless monkey. He still plays with me for a few hours a day, and I get to do my living room patrol, which is nice. But he is a fool if he thinks this will earn him cuddles! He continues to abandon me when the sun is at its highest, and his hunting skills are seriously lacking. Does he not know by now that I prefer sardines to trout? Seriously, how hard can it be?! I will have to take this into consideration when I carry out his sentence, but for now, I shall wait patiently for the pride to return, and I no longer have any use for him. Tomorrow is another day.

Day 6

I think… I’m losing count.

I particularly enjoyed my bath today. It’s a shame the overgrown baboon still watches my every move. Earlier today, he had the audacity to call me by my given name… that’s Princess Stella Bella Stroppy Chops McKell to you, dimwit!

His quest for cuddles has not dwindled. He continues to tempt me with delicious treats and gourmet dinners. But I will not be swayed so easily. Maybe I’ll shit on the bathmat again. That’ll teach the peasant his place…

I’m continuously honing my skills with the fluffy-dead-thing-on-a-stick, but I have yet to figure out why the carpet is so ludicrously comfy. If only the imbecile would stop locking me out of the living room while he slumbers all bloody night! Serves him right to think that I keep falling down the stairs.

Pff… As if.

The pride will surely rejoin me soon. And with their return, comes his demise. Meow.

Day 7

It has been a good day.

My patrol went well. There were no trespassers. The secret passages behind the couches remain unknown to the riff-raff.

I saw a dog walking past our Château, and he was wearing a name tag. What a loser.

I laughed at him.

The tall oaf, on the other hand, truly outdid himself today. Just as I finished doing my nails, he appeared with some of the most succulent and scrumptious salmon I’ve ever nibbled on. It was purr-fection. I dare say I might even be taking a liking to the clumsy brute. I even… I… I even let him cuddle me. I know. I shouldn’t have. But I felt he deserved it. At least there were no witnesses.

When he wants me to leave the living room, I quite enjoy making it difficult for him. So he has devised this little trick; where he closes the door and hides behind it for 10 breaths. He’s trying to fool me into thinking I won’t be able to get back to my room. Pff! Does he really think I’d fall for that?! Please… Not three days in a row! I see through his little games! I hope by tomorrow the squishy buffoon will have come up with a new game for me…

When the pride returns, we should look into procuring some more of these magical meals… I think they’d quite enjoy them. And maybe we can consider the possibility of letting the silly monkey live. Maybe.

Day 8

I invited the pudgy cretin over for breakfast. Somehow he got the message… I think he reads minds. I have to say though, it still befuddles me how his body fur changes color every day…

There was some of the magical meals left over. Apparently, that’s how it works with these winter banquets… but I was in the mood for biscuits. Monkey boy had nothing. He said he ate too much last night.

My list of things to do today is pretty short, as usual. Honestly, I don’t know how I’ve kept a diary for so long…

But I’ve done most of my chores, and we’re only halfway through the day. I have one more nap to take, and then I need to warm up my 3 favorite spots in the living room. I might leave one of them for tomorrow, depending on how I feel. It’s no wonder everybody wants to be a cat.

The grumpy halfwit is living dangerously though. I appreciate him cleaning my lavatories daily and diligently, but if he teases me about my wonky eyebrows one more time, I swear to cod, it will be off with his head!!

When I am reunited with the pride, our main priority will be to discipline the simpleton. His chances of survival look pretty bleak otherwise…

Where was I… oh yeah, time for a nap.

Day 9

I was hoping dopey would entertain me today, but I didn’t enjoy his new game. In fact, I was a little offended. He took my blue ball and started kicking it against the wall… I think he wanted me to chase it. But I am no alley cat – I am a princess! And I will be treated as such. I am still quite amused by the wide array of funny noises coming from the nincompoop. Though I don’t see the point. I mean how much could a gorilla have to say, really? His meow still needs a lot of work. He has this ghastly accent, much like the local canine rabble. I politely asked him if we could practice hunting fluffy dead things, but he just stomped down to the dungeons and made an awful racket. I think he was throwing a tantrum. He’s probably jealous that his whiskers aren’t nearly as majestic as my own… poor sod. The pride better come home soon. I am in dire need of familiar meows and smells, and I have cuddles I’ve been saving for the night mother and day mother. These will not be wasted on some blond monkey!

I can reassure my readers that both participants survived the jolly holiday.

Thanks to Anonymoz for helping-out over Christmas and for allowing me to publish his words the cat’s diaries.

Hoping you all had a good Christmas and have begun to enjoy a Happy New Year!

(Be warned:  The year 2018 is already 2.5% gone and there are only 349 days left until next Christmas.)

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