Omar's Diary 25th March 2018

Yesterday, Saturday, saw a wild flurry of frenetic activity undertaken by the Servants here in Omar Towers.  Most unusual for a Saturday.  In fact, it was so unusual I thought it must have been a normal weekday and they were late getting up.

I was so misled in this belief along with Mitsie that we both kicked back in the soon to be proved false assurance that the Servants would be out for quite a while.  Mitsie took up full slumbers in the sacred chair in the office while I sprawled full length across the divan in the East Wing catching the heat from the sun.  A normal day looked promising.

Feline peace and tranquillity was abruptly shattered when less than hour after the front door was closed I heard the key turn the lock.  The Servants were back.

Mitsie is deaf so I rushed from my divan to the office where I cuffed her around the head to wake her up.  Normally when I do this in the presence of my Servants they tell me off for being nasty to her.  I am not being nasty to her, it is my way of communicating with her and warning her of some impending disaster.

‘Phew’ both of us returned to our normal positions before the Servants saw us.

I looked out of the front window on to the driveway.  Instead of the limousine there was a rather large white van parked there. 

‘Oh my goodness, my Servants have gone into trade’ I thought followed by ‘What is Omar Towers coming to with trade vans parked at the front?’

After a few minutes and to my great relief I realised what the Servants were up to.  They were clear out the garage and not going into ‘trade’.

I exhaled the second ‘Phew’ of the day and immediately returned to the world of feline Morpheus away from the underworld I had feared a few minutes earlier.

When the Servants had finished their exertions, which I must say were rather limited, life in Omar Towers returned to its normal Saturday rhythm.  Man Servant retired to the lounge with a book titled ‘Grace and Power’ about the Kennedy Presidency.  Lady Servant retired up stairs where she watched an episode of Downton Abby.  Needless to say, I joined her.  Mitsie does not like movies so never joins us.  Not only because she always gives me some Dreamies when we watch movies together but also because I could relate to how the servants Lord and Lady Grantham and all their own servants lived.  Life above and below stairs and not a white van in sight.

In stark and jagged contrast to Downton Abby my Servants and I sat down and watched ‘A Street Cat Named Bob’. Downton Abby I know is a highly sanitised representation of a life long gone looked back on with rose coloured shades of sentimentality but it was very well written for television by Julian Fellowes.  A Street Cat Named Bob was very raw about the blight of homelessness for felines and servants in London.   

In a much smaller way I can relate to ‘Bob’ as before I came to Omar Towers I was also homeless for just a few days in Bournemouth.  Mitsie was also homeless for a while.  Both of us can confirm it is not very nice.

Lady Servant has exercised her wicked sense of humour this morning with a message on Facebook.  It tells the world that workers from the National Trust worked through the night at Stonehenge moving all of the big rocks forward by an hour.