A Day in the Life of a Sparkler’s Cat

This post is more fiction-y than what we usually publish, but alsailor44 had us LOL-ing our heads off. What else could we do? —Sparkitors

I don’t go to school. In fact, I shouldn’t even be able to speak English. But I do. Because I’m not a normal cat, even though I look like one (although I am an extremely beautiful one, I must say). Other cats like me have tons of fun, reading SparkLife, defusing bombs, abusing dogs, and attempting to create a jet-pack that can carry us across the ocean. We are not normal cats. We are ICSIA (International Cats Intelligence and Stealth Agency) Agents! Boo-yah!

Here's what my day as the Purrsident of the ICSIA is like:

12:01 a.m.—2 a.m.: I ichat with the head of the Japanese branch of the ICSIA about some classified information, and whether he can send me some koi (fish), and what the shipping cost will be to send it from ******, Japan, to ******, USA.

2:32 a.m.—5:20 a.m.: Go to sleep on my human’s chest. Ahhhhh…. so uncomfortable…. ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ………………

5:22 a.m.—5:25 a.m.: Yawn. Wake up. Yawn again….and again.

5:31 a.m.—5:38 a.m.: Begin my morning stretch routine. Here’s what to do: start stretching with your front paws, crick your neck 4 times, then swish your tail in your human’s face. Repeat if necessary.

5:45 a.m.—6 a.m.: Complete a perimeter check of the household, making sure none of my numerous computers, blackpurrys, and iPods (you never know) were hacked. For good measure, I beat up the dog, who I hate. If you have ever been licked furiously by a dog when you were very little, you know what I’m talking about.

6a.m.—7a.m.: Disappear through a holographic wall into my personal rocket. It's red, it’s a Ferrari, and its mine. Paws off!

7a.m.—7:30 a.m.: I fly to the ICSIA base in New York. Most of the time I either fly to New York, Washington D.C., London, Tokyo, Buenos Aires, Moscow, or the Bahamas. (Cats like the sun, all right? Watta you looking at?)

8a.m. -12p.m.: I work in my office (since I’m the Purrsident, I have my own office in every base, just in case I visit. How cool is that?)

12 p.m.—12:45p.m.: I have tuna with catnip for lunch. We usually have some kind of fish, but we can have chicken, songbird, and other kinds of birds too.

12:50 p.m.—4 p.m.: I continue working, and try to teach my intern how to make an reconic accelerator. It’s the one piece that makes our jet-packs work so much better that any other species' packs. (P.S., Dan, if you want one, just find the nearest cat wearing a black collar, and meow at it three times. We’ll get one to you.)

4:02 p.m.—4:31 p.m.: I jump in my Ferrari and speed home, making it through the holographic wall just before my human comes in, as always.

4:32 p.m.—6 p.m.: I lounge around and try to act feline. Whenever I can get away from the boy human (not mine, the dog’s), I try to answer some emails on my Blackpurry. I usually get around ninety emails an hour, but some are just bogus advertisements for discount catnip.

6:17 p.m.—6:45 p.m.: I am fed a weird, bad-smelling mix of gunk. I feed it to the dog, after spiking it with a sedative I get from my intern, Wesley.

7 p.m.—7:45p.m.: The humans have dinner. I sneak away and answer my emails, or if they are having something good (like swordfish), I sit under my human’s chair and she feeds me bits of fish. The dog begs at every meal, and I have yet to figure out which antidote to the sedative he is using. He still won’t fall asleep!

8p.m.—9:30p.m.: I try to make myself visible, while going over plans for a base in the middle of the Atlantic. We’re going underwater, baby! Boo-yah! (Yes, the ICSIA is going to build a base at the bottom of the Atlantic. Just another day.)

9:31 p.m.—9:45 p.m.: The young humans (mine and the boy) are herded into their rooms. They are supposed to go to bed, but mine stays up reading most of the time.

10 p.m.—10:20 p.m.: The humans (most of the time) go to bed. I make myself scarce, and then hop into my Ferrari and make a quick stop at the New York base before heading to bed myself.

10:22p.m.—12a.m.: I sleep. THANK GOD.

In review: My day consists of 15% talking, 45% working (going over architectural plans, making jetpacks, etc.), 5% teaching my intern how to do stuff, 20% sleeping, 10% lounging, and 17% flying my Ferrari.

What kind of car does your pet drive?

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