Welcome back to the world’s greatest blog (written by a library cat). This time I’ll tell you about my boss and my job. Robin Munro is the librarian that I live and work with. I live and he works. This is what he really looks like:
You already know that he’s more Scottish than Robbie Burns. He wears kilts all the time. Which means that when I’m on the ground his hairy knees are at my eye level. I shudder daily. And he loves to play the bagpipes, of course. Which is not entirely bad, because it sounds like he’s torturing a puppy.
Robin can be overly sensitive. I try to help him get over this by ridiculing him. He’s so lucky to have me, though he doesn’t fully appreciate my efforts. Every now and then he tries to feed me cat food or pleads with the SPCA to take me back.
He plays soccer, and is a surprisingly decent striker. (He doesn’t actually play in a kilt — I just added that for dramatic effect). His ungrateful team mates have no sense of humour when I steal the ball. I mean, what am I supposed to do when the concession stand is closed?
We live in a moderately comfortable townhouse. I insisted on having my own bedroom. I wanted a king size bed, but cheapskate Robin only got me a double.
Now for my job: I am the Official Newkirk College Library Cat, and much more. By rights they should give me an honourary degree. I take turns sleeping in the English, Philosophy, Fine Arts and Criminology departments.
The library is a big old stone building with plenty of cool nooks and crannies. My fave snoozing places are the book trucks (excellent transportation) and the reference desk, where I can wake up in time for any interesting action. I’ve learned the hard way that sleeping in the book return bin can cause concussions. See nearby drawing for gruesome details:
My career as a Library Cat is strenuous. Think of all the effort I put into giving ‘cute kitty’ looks to the students so they’ll share their food with me. What a stingy bunch. They’d much rather poke me when I’m blissfully sleeping. The college would be so much nicer without people.
Robin is a very soft boss, so I whip his library assistants into shape. For some reason, they seem to resent my critiques of their weaknesses. They refused to order me that book on hard-to-trace poisons, even after I bought “Cataloguing for Dummies” for them.
In fact, their response to my “how to walk on stilts to improve shelving on high bookcases” program made me feel maligned and undervalued. It may soon be time for me to go on strike for better conditions! Wait for it, dear readers …
And now I gotta go eat my third morning snack and watch Garfield cartoons on Robin’s reference computer. Next time I’ll tell you about Robin’s older siblings, Matilda and Duff, who almost make him look normal.