It’s morning. You open one eye and glimpse daylight. You twitch your ears to listen for the birds. Yes! The birds are singing, the sun has risen; it’s time to wake up and dance and sing. And eat. First priority: check the status of your foodbowl. Hmmm. Disappointingly it’s only half full. Which really means it’s empty *sigh*

Is anybody awake yet?

So where the heck are your your human staff?! This is something of a catastrophe.

A quick patrol of the staff sleeping quarters reveals that, as you suspected, the humans are all asleep. How did you end up with such lazy staff?! They’ve been asleep for hours. Meanwhile you’re completely neglected. Not to mention starving. How very rude of them.

You look at the clock beside a slumbering human (well, that’s the first thing they check when they wake). The numbers read 4:15. You have no idea what that means, but the lights look quite enticing. Mimicking your human, you swat the display with your fat, tufty paw. The clock clatters to the floor and your human groans but doesn’t move. What a disappointing start to the day.

Ah, the fun to be had knocking bottles off the bathroom windowsill into the bath.

So you saunter off to the bathroom to test out the acoustics. Launching yourself nimbly onto the windowsill, you sit and survey the scene. There’s not much room so you nudge a couple of plastic bottles and watch as they fall with a rattle into the bath. How satisfying was that! You topple a couple more containers with your paw, just for good measure. Then you start to sing. And trill. And chirrup. What a marvellous array of noises. Then it’s time to jump down from the windowsill and land in the bath, amongst the bottles, with a resounding thud.

Boxing the towels comes next, pulling them off the rails and leaving them in a crumpled heap on the floor: every last one.

Wait a minute! Is that your food bowl calling you again? As you scamper off, you decide that it would be better to take the scenic route: mountaineering across the back of the furniture and swinging on the curtains, using only your claws. This is, after all, the perfect opportunity to practice your training as a fluffy ninja.

A neglected fluffy ninja

And yes, you note with disappointment that your food bowl is still empty* (*only half full). What a neglected fluffy ninja you are. As you look forlornly at your bowl, the realisation hits you – it would be a great idea to make a little more room for food if and when your human staff ever decide to get up.

You head on over to your litter tray, tufty paws striding purposefully across the carpet. When using your tray, you can never underestimate how important it is to dig deep. Very deep. With both paws. Woo hoo! Party time! Only when you have laid your stink pod do you turn around and notice all the nuggets of cat litter scattered across the floor. How disgusting. Your human staff really should keep the house somewhat cleaner than this. You step out of your tray, shaking each foot vigorously as you do so.

Getting into position for a loud morning serenade

Now you really are ready for some grub. A final full-bodied serenade of your favourite tune brings a bleary-eyed human staggering to the door – just in the nick of time before you pass out from starvation.

After a good munch, you notice that your human staff member has gone back to sleep. Again. How very lazy. Although it seems only fair that you join them in their repose to keep them company. So you curl up on their face.

Frustratingly, it’s not long before your human wakes up, pushes you aside and stumbles off to grab a large mug that they fill with a hot, steaming black liquid. Yet with a full belly, you are now ready for a long snooze. Why do humans keep such strange hours?