I was browsing through the latest batch of Holidailies entries this morning and started following links (a dangerous thing to do when one really ought to be ceasing with the blog reading and heading off to work), and I stumbled across this site.

Basically this couple in Kansas decided it would be fun to designate an unofficial holiday called Live-Like-A-Cat Day (much like Talk Like A Pirate Day). To this end, they started the appropriately named Live-Like-A-Cat-Day blog, and have been encouraging people to commit to joining in. Come January 12th, 2008, their goal is to have a whole lot of people spending one entire day living life as if they were their cat.

I am finding this whole idea more than a tiny bit amusing, and not just because of the mental image of hundreds of otherwise fairly mature and responsible adults taking the whole idea far too much to heart when it comes time to take their daily shower, and foregoing the usual bathing routine to instead assume the cello position.

Anyway. Naturally, I sent the link along to Richard, along with some thoughts on the whole idea, most of which focused on the difficulty a household with multiple cats faces when considering this sort of event. Namely, which cat do we choose to live like?

My thought is that, to be truly fair, we would have to rotate throughout the day, spending four hours following the lifestyles of one cat, then four hours with the next, and so on until we worked our way through all six.

To make things easier, we’ll need to go in age order, which means that the first four hours of the day would be spent mirroring Sebastian, curling up on a chair in the computer room, snoring. This will last the entire four hours except for one brief interlude, picked entirely at random, to leap down from the chair and go wandering aimlessly through the house, yelling at nothing in particular at the top of our lungs for up to fifteen minutes.

Next we move on to shadowing Zucchini, which means basically we have to huddle under the bed and only come out if someone turns out the light, or if there is the remotest possibility that someone might be opening a can of cat food in the kitchen. Bonus points for who can look the most horrified if someone happens to look under the bed to see if we actually do exist.

Round three of the Living Like a Cat Day brings us to Tangerine, who will show us how to spend all our time curled up into a very neat little ball on top of the nearest pillow. During these four hours we will also have to practice the nearly silent squack.

Next up, Rosemary, which means this is the four hours we’ll get our exercise. Time to gather up all the little stuffed critters and then trot industriously from room to room, carrying one at a time in our mouth while carrying on a running commentary about the whole thing, before depositing them carefully in some random spot (likely on one of the stairs, or perhaps in the exact center of a doorway, or maybe even in Richard’s slipper). After we were done with critter placement, we’d retire for a cozy nap, tucked underneath any conveniently placed blanket or comforter.

Fifth on the list is Azzie, which means checking the brain at the door. We’d spend that four hours beeping pathetically at closed doors, skittering madly at random things on the floor, and following people around demanding attention Right Now. Also critical during this time period – all water must be drunk only from a sink faucet, and must first be batted at with paws before actual drinking can occur.

Finally, we’ll end the day with a good glare, and who better to train us in that than Checkers. We’ll find a good high spot to lurk, glaring suspiciously at anyone who might be walking by, or thinking of walking by. Or we can sit on the bed, but only if no one else is sitting on the bed, and if anyone else even *thinks* about sitting on the bed, we will whine about it and then go stomping off to some place high to sulk. And also to glare. We will be one with the glare.

Happy Holidailies!