The Melville Cat is an occasional 2Summers contributor. Tonight he has written his fourth lockdown journal post. Read all of the Melville Cat’s posts here. Read all of the 2Summers lockdown journal posts here.
Good day. My apologies, as it has been many days since my last lockdown update. I’ve been busy eating, sleeping, and ignoring the human discussion about “Level 4”. Apparently under “Level 4”, humans and canines may walk outside their homes for three hours each morning. Ha! Poor souls. Obviously I can walk outside this property whenever I please, although I generally don’t bother.
I have important news to share: After years of campaigning, I have secured a sleeping spot atop the kitchen counter.
Heather has always told me I am not “allowed” on the kitchen counter. I never understood this word. How is it Heather’s job to decide what I am or am not “allowed” to do? Nonetheless, every time I ventured atop the counter, Heather would shout at me and shoo me down. This was very rude.
A week or two ago, it started to grow cold at night and I tired of sleeping outside in the hedge. Sleeping on the bed or couch is not appealing to me — in my old age I no longer enjoy sleeping on soft surfaces. I also do not like cat beds. (Heather bought a cat bed specifically for me and tried repeatedly to encourage me to sleep on it, moving it around to my various sleeping spots and physically putting me on the bed. This was wasted effort on her part.)
The only sleeping spot that appeals to me now is the kitchen counter. There is a cloth serviette there, which Heather uses to wipe her mouth while eating. I settle myself on the serviette, which provides a barrier between myself and the cold granite, and that is where I sleep.
At first Heather shouted and shooed me down, as she always has. But I stood my ground. Each time she shooed me, I simply climbed back up onto the counter again. Heather tried a number of strategies — shouting louder, whining, begging me in a wheedling tone. It was quite pathetic. I disregarded her efforts.
Finally, after a couple of days, Heather awoke in the morning and found me settled on my serviette as usual. She looked at me with resignation and said: “Okay fine, you win.” Then she hugged me, told me she loved me, and fed me my morning milk.
Heather still shouts and shoos me when I try to eat food from her plate. Perhaps I will also win that battle eventually. Clearly the human lockdown has weakened her resolve.
That is all for today. Heather will return tomorrow with her regular updates.