I have been up since dawn, doing my rounds. I creep silently around the chapel. I will not disturb the sleeping souls. A few stragglers have only recently dragged themselves from the warm office into their cabins. They are pale, tired, they hardly stop to say hello. I don't mind. I have work to do.
I begin my day as I do every day. I slip through the cracks in doors, as people sneak out to use the toilet or check on the screaming box they call the '3D printer'. I snuggle into warm blankets for a little while, I check everyone is OK. It takes some time to get through all the people. I have to sit for a long time outside some doors. I worry at these points. One day I am sure the rats that live in the walls and the meadows outside will come and rise up and take their revenge on the people. It is a battle I fight nightly. I worry for my humans.
Usually, people start emerging around the same time as I finish my rounds. This happens today, as normal. I begin my morning screams, sat in the centre of the chapel, trying to alert the bleary-eyed blunderers to the fact that my stomach is growling. They greet me and stroke my head. I like this, silly person, but feed me! Eventually they do. I eat, I am pleased. Now I can rest.
I rest for a short while before I hear the tippy tapping of tiny toes coming towards me. I am curled up on the red beanbag. This beanbag is coveted by all. Small enough to hold its shape, the perfect position for snoozing and monitoring the goings-on. Sometimes the humans have the cheek, the audacity to move me from the coveted beanbag to use it for themselves. They sit outside, staring at screens, I often wonder what they are doing. I like to climb on them then, make sure they know what their priority really should be.
I stretch and yawn as the tippy tapping comes closer. It is that wretched dog. She came a short while ago, she seems harmless enough but I remain unsure. She has a nasty habit of sneaky sneaking and eating my food when the humans aren't looking. One day, I managed to eat hers. Food tastes so much better when it is laced with sweet, sweet revenge. But alas, she is so sneaky, it makes me nervous. Once she even ate from my litter tray. An animal! Plus, sometimes she sleeps in the cabins of the humans, sometimes I won't notice she's there until it's too late and the door is closed and oh! I am afraid, I am. Please don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold.
I move from the beanbag, I let the wretched dog take her place for the day. I suppose she is alright, really. The screaming noises from upstairs are starting again now. Building, always building, these people, they do insist on creating such ludicrous structures. I suppose I might as well complete my daily checks of the perimeter. Maybe I will catch myself a snack, to supplement my lost breakfast. Maybe I will bring something back for the humans, the rats do keep eating their food, I don't want them to go hungry.
I slip through the catflap in the back door and the delicate April sunshine greets me. I have a quick look around, checking the corners. That strange man is digging a hole again. Why is he always digging? Before I begin the hunt, I cannot resist rolling in the dry dust of the flowerbed. I jump up on the garden wall and crouch, watching the field mice scattering through the compost pile. I think about catching them. I think some more. They are fast and I am still sleepy. I jump from the wall and prowl through the long grass of the adjoining field. I spend some time watching the sheep. They are so stupid. I mean, wow. Really? Maybe I am too hard on them, their babies are cute. But they are dull. All they do is stand around and eat grass.
I spent a long time stalking a mouse. This time, I will not just watch it run. It is quick, but I am quicker. I channel the power of my ancestors in the stalking, the pounce, the immobilising. It is only a small morsel for me. I have plentiful crunchy snacks at home. I decide this one is for the humans. I trot back the short way to the chapel, live mouse in my mouth. It struggles and squeaks, the pathetic creature, but I don't care. The humans are gathered in the steamy kitchen now, being loud. Always so loud. Always some screaming power tool or something being dropped or people shouting and jumping around and laughing. Have they not heard of naps? They have a lot to learn from Musala and I.
I play with the mouse for a little while, letting it think that it might get away and then catching it again. Ha! Inferior creatures. The humans eventually emerge after their evening feast. They scream at the mouse, tell me to take it outside. Eurgh. One day they will appreciate how much I do for them!
Ah, but alas, one of them scoops me up and tells me how pretty I am. That silly voice they do... Oh, I love it. More scratches. Mmmmmmm. I snooze for a little while longer before I remember. The rats! I struggle free from the cuddles, I have a job to do. Someone must protect the food supply while the people are asleep. I slip through the door and into the kitchen. I settle down for a long session of staring. I stare, I stare. Waiting. Waiting. Any minute, any minute now, just stay alert...
Oh, oops. I fell asleep. Oh well. Maybe tomorrow.
I sneak into another cabin and snuggle with a warm sleepy human. Until tomorrow.
I wonder how Musala's day was?