I am an artist.
My art manifests in many ways… indeed, in everything I do… but it is Performing Arts that earn my living. I bring a character to life and get rewarded for it.
Earlier I learned some of the things I did were endearing… and several folks would buy my dinner for entertaining them by pretending I was some other character. I was fortunate to now have a patron who had been providing for my needs for some time.
I was entertaining my liege one day when a stranger interrupted. He spoke of a gift but I could tell he had come to receive something instead. I spoke to him harshly and revealed what I had surmised.
My patron could not smell a “rat” as well as I… but I was pleased he deferred to my judgment and asked the stranger to leave.
His trust obliged me to accept, perfect and perform a new role. Now I must pretend I am Chief of Security. I am not the subject of laughter much anymore… but I do see contented smiles. It must be that I am convincing in my portrayal of a competent protector.
My role is relatively routine with rare bursts of creativity when a stranger appears. I walk the grounds at dusk and check the livestock. The outbuildings are inspected and the estate is secure when I retire.
Once I am satisfied my patron is resting normally, I take up my position between the house and the outside world.
Everything is usually routine… including my habit of scratching a shallow depression in the cool earth… and turning around several times before I curl up with my tail over my eyes…
But not my ears!
Greyspirit
