The other day, while giving my apartment a long-overdue spring cleaning, I found a number of things – a handful of small change lodged in between the cushions of my couch, a dry cleaner’s receipt I had ransacked the room looking for at least three times, and my cat’s diary. Apparently, Hobey decided to start recording his daily doings in a journal. I found the contents very informative (as well as utterly terrifying, in that they confirmed many of my long-held suspicions about cats in general, and about this neurotic cat specifically).

So that other cat owners might benefit from the feline wisdom contained therein, I have published the memoirs of my animal companion below. (NB: I corrected the numerous spelling and grammatical errors and, in the interests of space, omitted several long-winded anti-canine diatribes. Otherwise, the manuscript appears as I found it.)

MONDAY

Today I woke up at 6:30. The Mom was still asleep, so I prowled around for a while. I found a ball of lint wandering around near the kitchen and I attacked it – that lint ball won’t be coming around here again. I also played with Greenie Mouse, but the damn thing got stuck on one of my claws, and when I tried to get it off, it flew behind the couch where I couldn’t reach, and I tried to wake up The Mom to help me get Greenie Mouse out, but she wouldn’t wake up. I felt a little hungry so I looked in my bowl, but nothing had happened since the last time I looked in it, so I ate some kibble and then took a short nap before I had to get up again at 7:05. At 7:15 The Mom’s alarm goes off, so I usually find it useful to wake her up ten or fifteen minutes before it goes off. That way she won’t bother going back to sleep, and she can play with me or give me treats.

When The Mom finally got up, she called me a pest. What a bitch – I mean, she wakes me up all the time, patting me, whistling to me, talking on the phone, but do I call her a pest? No! I mean, what is up with that? I’m trying to sleep, okay? I’m a cat. That’s what we do. Jesus! So anyhow, I kept meowing – she doesn’t like that, but I don’t care. Then I got into the warm spot on the bed. I had planned to weave in and out of her legs while she was trying to get ready for work, but I didn’t have the energy.

The Mom came home in the middle of my noontime nap, and did she shut the door quietly? No. She slammed it. I tried to get back to sleep by thinking about that babe Fluffy from The Brady Bunch, but The Mom started babbling to me in that stupid baby voice – “helllooooo little cat,” “would the little orange flower like some kibble,” blah blah blah. I glared at her, but then she started doing that annoying thing with my tail, making the end of it “talk,” as if I don’t know my own tail. “Look at your tail – hello, cat, I’m your tail.” For God’s sake, lady, shut up. Eventually she gave up, but by that time I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I sat by her desk while she ate her lunch and meowed for no reason.

Not much else happened. Oh, The Uncle came over. He chased me around the apartment but I hid under the bed.

TUESDAY

I spent the morning checking out the pigeons. When I get onto the roof next door, I am going to have a feast, I’ll tell you what. The
Mom came home and had a lot of work to do, so I ran back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. For some reason, I never get sick of that. The Mom told me to stop it and settle down – yeah, right.

Anyhow, I didn’t think anything good would happen today, but then The Mom got a package in the mail! She gave the cardboard box to me
to play with. I don’t really fit in it, but I squeezed into it anyway and took a nap.

WEDNESDAY

More stuff happened at the end of yesterday, but I couldn’t write it down because The Mom put me in the bathroom for the night because I wouldn’t shut up. I hate The Mom sometimes. I played with a string hanging off the shower curtain and then I took a crap and sprayed kitty litter all over the bathroom while covering it up. When she let me out, I jumped up on the bureau and then onto the top of the bathroom door and swiped at her head while she was getting dressed. That’ll show her.

While The Mom was at work, I took a nap, but only a short one, because I had to sharpen my claws on the end of the sofa. I’ve gotten sort of bored with that, actually. It was a lot more fun when the sofa was new and I could really see the effects of the clawing. Then I watched the pigeons again and continued to formulate my plan for catching one. I think if I can pull the screen open with my claw, I can walk along the windowsill to the air conditioner, jump from air conditioner to air conditioner until I get close enough, and then pounce on a pigeon. Those birds will never see me coming.

The Mom had a yogurt for lunch. I wanted some, so I climbed up her pant leg and into her lap, and she yelled at me and pushed me off, so I sat by the door and yowled. I tried to make it sound like someone had stepped on my tail. After that, she gave me some yogurt. The “pained meow” trick never fails. I don’t know why she doesn’t just give me what I want right away – it would make things a lot easier for both of us.

Took another nap before bedtime.

THURSDAY

Ran back and forth, back and forth. Woke The Mom up early. She didn’t look too happy but she played with me and my catnip dinosaur. Then I felt really stoned so I took a nap. I woke up in time to rub on her black pant leg. When she left for work, I ran out into the hallway, and she couldn’t catch me for about ten minutes.

The heat didn’t come on this afternoon, so I whined until The Mom turned on a table lamp. I basked under it all afternoon. At 5 o’clock, The Mom got my dinner ready – oceanfish, ugh. I hate that crap. I mean, I guess it beats kibble, but sometimes I look at it, all grey and mushed up in my bowl, and I just can’t take it anymore. Why can’t I have the same food The Mom has? I like yogurt and tunafish and I especially like cheese pizza. When The Mom gets cheese pizza, I nibble on some of the cheese that sticks to the box, and then I can play in the box also. So I just started thinking about the unfairness of it – that I have to eat liver’n’egg combo while she gets cheese pizza and bagels with that yummy pink stuff on them and tuna and all the yogurt she wants. And to top it all off, she acts like I should get so excited about this gnarly food she gives me – “tonight, we have – oooooohh, turkey and giblets! That sounds yummy, doesn’t it, little orange blossom?” Like she’d eat that swill. I mean, she tries to get me to do tricks to get cat treats. Tricks. I’m a cat. I mean, come on.

The Mom must have felt bad about the oceanfish because she let me play in the hallway tonight. I saw the cat in 9F. We stared at each other for about half an hour. When she came over to our doorway, I hissed at her and she ran away. Why do I always act like an idiot around her? I spend hours begging to go outside so that I can see her, and showing off by sharpening my claws on the rug in the hallway, and sniffing around outside her doorway, and then when she comes over, I act like a jackass. That made me feel sort of depressed, so I got up on The Mom’s bed and lay down right in the center so that The Mom had to bend her body around mine, and I felt a lot better.

FRIDAY

Today sucked. The Mom vacuumed. Then she yelled at me for pulling out a thread on her sweater, when I only wanted to knead her chest and be affectionate, and she made me get down from her lap and I got all staticky. Then I brushed up against a deflated balloon left over from The Mom’s birthday party, and the static made it stick to me and I couldn’t get it off me, so I ran around and jumped in different directions but I still couldn’t get it off me and The Mom laughed at me. I hate her. I finally pushed it off with my paw and it popped really loudly and scared me. The Mom laughed at me again. I really hate her. I went under the bed and refused to come out. That showed her. She lay down on the ground and begged me to come out but I wouldn’t. I finally came out after she went to sleep. I stalked around the apartment and pretended that I live here by myself, and I have a cat door, and I can go outside on the windowsill anytime I want, like I used to before she got that goddamn screen put on, and I catch a lot of pigeons and salmon and yogurt and if The Mom comes over, she has to sleep on the floor and I get the whole bed to myself and if she makes any noise, I put her in the bathroom.

SATURDAY

This morning, I had a bath, and then I drank out of the glass of water by The Mom’s bed right after I had licked my butt. Then I took a nap. The Mom slept pretty late and when she woke up, she drank that whole glass of water. Serves her right.

We watched TV a lot today. The Mom kept pointing out the cats on the TV – she thinks I think they’re real cats. What am I, a moron? I like that cat on the Honda commercial. I wish I could go outside. I want to catch a pigeon.

I feel a hairball coming on. Maybe tomorrow I’ll hock one up.

SUNDAY

The Mom put me in the bathroom again because I hocked up a hairball while she was trying to sleep. I yowled as loudly as I could but she wouldn’t let me out. At least she left the toilet open this time so I could drink out of it.

After she let me out, someone came over and gave her a plastic bag with food in it. We both got back in bed with a newspaper, and The Mom shared her sandwich with me. It had chicken salad and bacon on it. I love bacon. When I dropped a piece on the bedspread, The Mom didn’t even yell at me, and she crumpled up the coupon section and threw it across the room for me to pounce on. I love The Mom.

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