Home » Musings » Inside Priscilla’s diary

PriscillaPriscilla is my cat, she didn’t really get on with Colin, not many cats or people or anything did to be fair, then since Colin’s departing to cat-heaven (the string there is never-ending, the investigating endless, and the restaurants never close) she became the top cat, the big cheese, #1 in charge of the crispies.

Priscilla routinely reads the Sunday Times, it is why she’s a more discerning cat than the sun-reader cats that she mingles with at the back of the garden. She miaowws in objection to the online version on the Kindle, reads every section of the print version, and then depending on the time of the day, goes to sleep on it.

Not interested in any of the other papers that I pile up on the living room floor, not even a glance at the local papers that miraculously find their way into the inner sanctum, not even a snifter at the occasional Independent I get, it’s the Sunday times or nothing. Of course she doesn’t actually read it, I lied, she sits on it. For ages. What do they do, lace the paper with cat-nip? Maybe she does read it, via osmosis, photosynthesis or some other kind of absorption process.

She’s a real character Priscilla and she knows it, not because she knows the value of various Claris Cliff objects (too much Style magazine & Flog it), not because she always knows when its coffee  o’ clock (not that she makes any oh no), or that she knows about the entire back catalogue of Cat Stevens, I think it’s her dry humour that really makes her a cut above the other cats, when she heard that David Tenant is in the 50th Doctor Who spesh she just went ‘maooo’ (mind you she said the same thing when she heard that not only did Ricky Gervais have a cat called Colin (‘been done’ she miaowwed) but that he had a cat called Chairman Maoow also). In fact when I started writing this she immediately leapt up in front of the screen as if in protest or trying to claim some kind of royalty deal for me writing about her… she’s worried I am going to publish this whole expose about her…. Hahaha I am, one day.

This was an excerpt from Priscilla’s diary last week…

7am woke up after the main snooze.

7.05 looked around a bit, saw no-one else stirring, went back to sleep.

8.00 alarm woke me up,  leapt off the hippo and went in search of crispies, ate crispies, threw them around a bit, made a bit of a mess, had a drink, then went investigating to see if anything had changed in the garden overnight.

8.10 perimeter investigated, looked pretty grey out, went inside to continue daily investigation.

8.20 ate some more crispies, well, didn’t really eat them, just pretended to. Was nearly sick on them.

8.21 sick on crispies, immediately felt more alert. Heard a spider milling around in the next room. Made a note to harass it sporadically throughout the day.

8.30 back on the hippo ready for light snooze till lunch-time

12noon woke up, had massive massive stretch, sat on the local paper (but not for long, it was no sunday times) fell asleep

1.00 woken up by the man banging things around in kitchen, hung around in the hope of tuna, pretending to clean

2.00 clean for approx 20 mins, ate crispies, was chased by the dog, couldn’t be bothered to fight back so just ran away till she got bored (she found a squeezy toy to play with)

2.15 went outside and sat on next-door’s shed looking out over the garden to see if any of the other crazy cats turn up

3.00 returned to the office for light snooze in the other office chair (this is usually noise-level dependant)

4.00 went under the bed for main day snooze

6.00 woman comes home, pretended to be interested, ran up and down the hall a few times

7-9pm always a grey area, to be honest this part of the day is a blur, no one can say for sure what happens. May have seen my evil-twin sister in the garden looking very suspicious, or may have dreamt it

9.00 first of many night-snoozes on hippo

10-11pm logged on to CatsCatsCats.com and posted messages on sci-fi forums about whether 7 of 9 will come back in her own series . Other debates still include the Halle Berry film Catwoman – ‘how did they get it so wrong’ & ‘Worst film ever’ threads still very active.

11.00 stood on edge of sofa like a book end practising regal look

11.15 urgent cleaning time

11.25 final perimeter check both indoors and outdoors

11.30 prepare for night time snooze, debate on under-bed or on-bed, tricky decision, got to get it right

4am worked on blueprints for weather making machine

4.20 wandered in the hall, just to check everything was the same as usual, it was

4.30 climbed up to the man’s face, woke him up, stared at me for as long as was necessary (until I made my point). Jumped down to floor, kneeded hippo, he needed it

 

It’s a full life for Priscilla.

I never knew anything about Cats before Colin & then Priscilla came along. My wife is always thrilled to tell my friends the story of when I fell in love with the little monkey. I’ll never forget it though. I came home from a typical day in the office to see a little head poke its way out from under the sofa, I’ll never forget his look, it said ‘hello, I am Colin, love me please,’ how could I not?

Since I got to know him it’s been a real eye-opener. I thought cats were just boring lonely pets that never really did anything, and that it was only dogs that had personalities. I have since realised that cats have hugely rich personalities. Wherever Priscilla wants to sit she can (but you aren’t allowed to stroke – sometimes she even has to bite or scratch to cement his important rule), whenever she wants to eat she can, she has perfected the staring game, the scratching the rug game, and the purring like an old ford fiesta game.

At first I was not aware of her maniacal tendencies. It was only after one night where we had friends round and we got out ‘Risk’ did my suspicions first occur. Half way through a game (that I was winning incidentally) Priscilla (from nowhere) jumped up onto the board and totally annihilated half of Asia just like that (she sat on it), she would have wiped out Australia too with her tail, but the light infantry there decided to take their chances in the Indian ocean.

Anyway, don’t worry, am keeping an eye on her weather machine, so far she’s way off track, no way will it ever rain cats and dogs for real.

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