The humans are upstairs, busy doing their strange human rituals. Usually, I allow them my presence, lying in one of my beds with them. But tonight, I have found an opportunity.
The humans do not eat the same food as I do. My food is specially for me, and only me.
The foods the humans eat often look and smell different. I do not understand their obsession with variety; can they not decide on a favourite food? Feeble-minded humans.
The old male one guards the food jealously. He is always watchful, and hides away the leftovers and sweeps away the crumbs carefully when I am around. I confess, this wariness is not undeserved. I try to eat those crumbs some times. It is shameful, and my own food is much tastier.
But you see, reader, the humans are cruel, and they never feed me enough. I must hunt for my own food in order to properly fill my belly. This means that I must lower myself to eat the humans’ scraps. Sometimes, I find spiders and flies, but they are too hideous to eat. Also, they move.
Instead, I occasionally discover scraps on the floor that the humans have dropped accidentally, and I help myself to them. They are bland, but edible.
Luckily, tonight, there is treasure to be found. The humans have lowered their guard, and they have left their food out on the high floors. Much more than their usual crumbs and scraps.
“Frosty!” The squawking female human squawks, just as I lick my lips clean.