Schedules Are For Squares
Schedule? What are you talking about, human?
I’m a cat. Time means nothing to me. If I want to pass the days curled up in a ball snoozing contentedly, or run around like a possessed kitten while yowling at 4 am, I will. I do what I want.
Try not to get so hung up on things like schedules. The question of whether time flows like a river or exists as discreet quanta is one for the physicists and philosophers. Hakuna Katana, my friend. It means “No worries” in Japanese.
Let yourself get crazy. Bring out the laser laser and let the catnip and snacks flow freely. I’ll just hide your phone and your watch so we can enjoy ourselves.
My Meals Must Be Served Precisely On Schedule!
I knew it! I knew when the clock struck 3:57 pm and you still weren’t moving that my dinner would be late. I tried to warn you by shrieking at you at 20-second intervals, but to no avail.
I have to be honest, I just don’t see the urgency or effort on your part, and that concerns me. We have an agreement that two bowls — one with fresh water and the other with yummy wet food — will be set down in my eating nook no later than 4 pm. Not 4:33 or 4:17 or even 4:02.
You may not think observing a strict yums schedule is important, but it is.
My body is a fine-tuned machine, human. I didn’t get this tigeresque physique by playing fast and loose with the rules, or by delaying the ingestion of crucial proteins and nutrients.
Point-Counterpoint presents two essays taking opposing positions on a topic. Join us next week, when Buddy the Cat will debate Buddy the Cat on another important topic.