Tired

As the sun falls below the horizon, I transform. One moment I am nothing more than a housecat, basking in the warmth of the sunlight, the comfort of cushions and the soft, compassionate touch of humans, and the next I am a wanderer, an adventurer and a protector with the world as my playground.

With a swish of my tail, I elegantly leap from my plastic throne and am out the window, patrolling my territory. I tread lightly, barely leaving a trace of my presence, my instincts overpowering my senses, weaving nimbly between obstacles in my path. Every coo is a threat, every movement a potential intruder. I am alert and aware, ready to strike. The bodies of my enemies, my play things, line the bins of my owners, a warning to any who would dare to attack. This is not the house that you are looking for.

I am vigilant and attentive, making passes around the house on an hourly basis and spending the rest of my time making sure that there are no enemies lurking where my sights cannot normally stray. I climb high, searching between items of clothing, inside cupboards, anywhere my paws can reach, and trying to find the tiniest of threats and wipe them out.

As the sun rises, I return to my owners, my children, my charges and make sure that nothing has harmed them during the night. Their stirring assures me that another night has passed without incident, and means that my duty for the night has been fulfilled.

I lie at the foot of the bed and bask in the suns glory once again as the curtains open and the day begins.

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