The dog’s gone out. Emma comes outside and calls walkies with the same patronising tone they use for children, then she attaches some sort of rope-like contraption to her collar and away they go. Then it’s time to celebrate: from the moment they leave I have about forty-five minutes of freedom! I can walk around without her following me… some of us don’t need a lead to go for a walk. They get proud of the dog if she jumps to their hand, can jump over fences and don’t get rewarded for it. But I suppose the only reward I need is the knowledge of my blatant superiority.

Anyway so they’ve taken the dog out. The first thing I do is see if she’s left any food behind; my food may be that stuff with gravy and real chunks of meat but I don’t mind slumming it now and then with a mouthful of dog biscuits – especially if I’ve already eaten my own food as a starter. She never eats all of her food anyway, the stupid mutt doesn’t understand the worth of  a good bit of meat; I’d eat it while she was home but she’d get up in my face if I did that. Next I steal her water. Since the clumsy oaf keeps knocking mine over with her gigantic bumbling nose, I think it’s only fair to sneak some of hers while she’s away… it’s important to stay hydrated after all.

Once I’m fed and watered it’s time for a bit of unadulterated attention from my humans. I love a good nuzzle, and a scratch behind my ears. They sometimes pick me up for a cuddle which is slightly irritating but it’s worth putting up with for the extra affection. It’s so much nicer to get loved up without that pesky dog jumping up at me, she gets so jealous she seems to forget that I was here first!

So once I’ve fulfilled my love quota I pop back to her bowl for another slurp and then see what the weather’s doing. If it’s not looking too shabby outside I’ll do a bit of sunbathing, I find the warmest piece of floor and nap in it. Glorious. Unfortunately though my humans seem to have chosen a fairly grim place to live in terms of the weather, which frequently destroys the possibility of sunbathing. On these occasions I hole up under the dinner table and have a peaceful nap on one of the chairs. Or even the sofa since I’m allowed on it – yet another advantage of not being a scruffy (and rather ginormous) dog.

Inevitably the dog will wake me up soon, but those forty-five minutes of freedom are perfect. Dog-free is just the way I like my life to be. If only they’d get rid of her permanently, I’d thoroughly enjoy the peace and quiet… maybe I’ll tell the humans that I’m allergic? Not that they’d understand me: humans are so bad at learning languages, and they never even tried to learn cat.

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