There is no contentment like the contentment of a cat. Queen Bella, the reigning lioness in our home, recently briefed me on her taxing daily agenda:
- yawn, stretch and slip on ostrich feather slippers (5 minutes)
- vociferously whine until the wait staff brings breakfast (10 minutes)
- meddle in others’ affairs and garner lots of attention (30 minutes)
- preen (3 hours) – Bella insists that spa is a verb. She also indicated that God’s highest purpose for a cat is to adorn her surroundings by being, in very essence, beautiful.
- snoop for a comfortable chaise, in the sun, preferably with a water view (5 minutes)
- collapse, exhausted from the effort, and luxuriate – also known as napping (5 hours)
- repeat as necessary
Would it be overstating the obvious to say that I am not a cat?