Nap now, chaos later. Scratch the sofa, ignore the scratching post, look you dead in the eye. Purr, then bite. Climb the bookshelf, question the decision, refuse to come down, get rescued, ungrateful. Ignore the expensive toy. Cat ipsum dolor sit amet, sleep on keyboard chase laser knock over cup. Meow.
I have decided that 4am is breakfast, and my decision is final and non-negotiable. I chase my own tail on Tuesdays, purely to keep it humble. There is a strange cat outside the window, and I have puffed to twice my size to defend this glass. Vacuum is the enemy.
The laser dot returned tonight, darting across the wall and floor with malicious speed, and I pursued it with everything I had, over the sofa, under the table, up the curtains, and just as I cornered it, it simply ceased to exist. Cat ipsum dolor sit amet, hide under the bed, ambush the human ankle, sprint down the hallway at top speed for no reason, and act completely normal the moment anyone looks. If it fits, I sits. The catnip mouse and I had a disagreement, and I am pleased to report that the mouse did not survive. Zoomies at 3am.
At 5am I stood on your chest, placed one cold paw on your face, and meowed directly into your sleeping ear, not because I was hungry, but because you were asleep and I was awake and that felt fundamentally unfair. My tail moves independently and I take no responsibility for its opinions. The feather fell off the toy, and now the feather alone is the toy, and the toy is nothing.
Meow means everything. I fell asleep watching the birds and dreamed, I assume, of catching absolutely none of them. 3am is my hour. You sneezed, and I have decided this is deeply suspicious and worth investigating never.
Hide under the bed, ambush the ankle, vanish into another dimension. I ignored the feather wand for a week, then attacked it violently the moment you tried to throw it away. You bought me a bed, and I appreciate the gesture, but I will be sleeping in the sink. Knock it off the table. I knocked everything off the windowsill so that I, personally, could occupy the entire windowsill. The vacuum emerged from the cupboard, and I have relocated to the top of the wardrobe indefinitely.
There is food in the bowl, but it is old food, from three minutes ago, and I refuse to eat history. Warm spot acquired. Every morning I stand on your chest at dawn, because your sleep is a resource I choose not to respect. You were petting me, and it was perfect, exactly the right pressure in exactly the right place, and then some ancient instinct stirred deep within me and I bit you, immediately, without regret, and I would do it again. I brought a leaf in from the garden, carried it proudly across the whole flat, presented it to you on the good rug, and your complete failure to celebrate this achievement has been noted and will be remembered. I have hidden in a place so clever that you have not found me and I cannot now get out.
Meow at the closed door. The catnip mouse and I had a disagreement, and I am pleased to report that the mouse did not survive. The feather fell off the toy, and now the feather alone is the toy, and the toy is nothing.
I stare at the wall because there is something there, and only I can see it. Hairball incoming. Cat ipsum dolor sit amet, zoomies at 3am, chatter at the birds through the glass, groom aggressively for ten minutes, then fall asleep mid-groom in an undignified position. I brought the sock to you as tribute, and you took the sock, and now we are enemies. Curtains are for climbing.
I knocked your phone into the plant pot, and I would like to make clear that gravity did most of it. There is a strange cat outside the window, and I have puffed to twice my size to defend this glass. I sleep in a perfect circle to preserve my dignity and my warmth. The bowl is empty-ish.
Judging you silently. The curtain is not a ladder, and yet I have made it a ladder, repeatedly. Cat ipsum dolor sit amet, knead the blanket into biscuits, purr like a small motor, drool a little from the joy of it, and refuse to acknowledge the drool ever occurred. I regret nothing, ever. The two-hundred-pound cat tree is decoration; the cardboard box it arrived in is my true home. Chatter at window bird plot revenge groom aggressively fall asleep mid-groom. Slow blink means love.
The red dot must die. The new sofa smells wrong, so I have corrected this by scratching it correct. Scratch the sofa, ignore the scratching post, look you dead in the eye.
The dog is afraid of me, as is right and proper, and I remind him of this hourly out of duty. I knocked a single pen off the edge of the desk, watched it fall, felt a deep and primal satisfaction, and then, meeting your eyes, calmly extended one paw and knocked off a second pen, because a point had to be made. The paperwork is a bed. I climbed into the clean bag for life, and I now live in the bag for life, please plan accordingly. Purr loudly on lap, then leave abruptly for no reason, come back, leave again. I have decided that 4am is breakfast, and my decision is final and non-negotiable. Cat ipsum dolor sit amet, demand food at dawn, ignore the food when it arrives, sit in the empty box the food came in, and judge you for the rest of the afternoon.
The paper bag rustled once, and I have not known peace since. At 5am I stood on your chest, placed one cold paw on your face, and meowed directly into your sleeping ear, not because I was hungry, but because you were asleep and I was awake and that felt fundamentally unfair. Knock pen off desk, knock keys off desk, knock entire glass off desk, leave. I sat on the warm clean laundry the exact moment it left the dryer, as is my ancient right.
You cleaned the litter tray, which I appreciate, so I have used it immediately and dramatically. I brought you a gift from the garden, and your screaming suggests you do not understand generosity. Bring the dead thing inside, place it lovingly on the pillow, expect praise. You installed a bird feeder outside the window as a gift for me, and I have spent every daylight hour since crouched on the sill, tail lashing, teeth chattering, plotting an ambush that the double glazing renders entirely impossible. I do not want to sit on your lap, I want to sit on the exact document you are currently reading. There is a spider on the ceiling, and I have been tracking it for two hours with the intensity of a trained assassin, chattering my jaw and preparing to strike, and I will do absolutely nothing about it whatsoever.
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