Gryzka's Time to Shine: Calendar Edition

You know, it’s bad enough that I have to deal with winter, the uninvited snow, and the endless rounds of “why don’t you just nap in the sunshine?” But there’s one thing I simply cannot stand—the calendar.

It was just put up. Fresh, brand-new, sitting there smugly on the wall. It has all these dates on it, and I swear it’s plotting against me. The humans have been obsessed with it since they brought it into the house, and I’m about to lose my fur over it.

They keep flipping the pages! Every time I walk into the room, they’re turning it. Turning it! As if the old page isn’t good enough anymore. And you know what the worst part is?

I don’t get a vote.

Now, I’ve been around long enough to know that I should be consulted on important matters. I mean, I’m the one who knows when it’s breakfast time. I’m the one who knows when the sunbeam is at its peak for the ultimate nap session. So why, why, do they get to decide which page is next? Who made them in charge of time?

Today, I watched as they turned it from January to February. Oh, no—oh no—they didn’t. They took January away like it never even happened. Just like that. Poof! Gone. As if my nap-filled, snow-staring days meant nothing. I had important plans for the remaining weeks of January. I was going to figure out how to make snowballs appear, and now they’re just gone. And for what? To make room for another month? It’s outrageous!

I marched up to the wall and gave the calendar a very forceful paw tap. As if to say, “I know what you’re doing, and I don’t approve.” The humans just laughed at me. LAUGHED! They even said something about "marking the days." Well, how dare they mark anything without consulting me!

So, naturally, I took it upon myself to give the calendar a piece of my mind. I spent the next half-hour swatting at the page for March—that’s right, the next month—until it flopped over. I mean, surely they’ll understand. I was just helping them decide which month comes next. Clearly, March was in need of my supervision.

They tried to stop me, but I know when to be persistent. I gave the calendar one final, fierce swipe, sending it swaying dangerously. The humans acted like they were annoyed, but I saw the glint of respect in their eyes. They were thinking, "Wow, Gryzka really knows how to take charge."

I mean, if I could just get my paws on that calendar for one whole day, I could create a schedule of my own. I’d have tuna Tuesdays, nap Thursdays, and sunbeam Sundays (even if they’re fake, I’ll still claim them). But no. The humans continue flipping through the pages like it’s some game.

I’ve decided that next year, I’m going to design my own calendar. I’ll fill it with days dedicated to all the things I love, like:

• "Chasing Shadows Day"
• "Napping in the Most Annoying Spot" Day
• "Knocking Everything Off the Counter" Day
• "Whisker-Wiggling in Front of the Window" Day

Until then, I suppose I’ll just have to deal with this ‘calendar nonsense.’ I’ll watch it. I’ll judge it. And I’ll keep swatting at the pages when no one’s looking.

Yours in determined rebellion,
Gryzka, Queen of Time