Must wake the servants (they’re napping)… my water goblet needs attention. First, it is not full. There is at least one centimeter of water missing. Second, there is A Hair in it. Not one of my hairs – it is clearly a servant hair. Revolting! I must have fresh water immediately! Who can live like this?!

I’ve just walked across the stomach of the sleeping she-servant. She is usually easier to wake, and the hair in my goblet appears to be hers, anyway. I stood for at least 30 seconds on her ribcage, putting all of my weight on my two front paws. This hurts her, I can tell. Her face twisted with pain and she cracked open an eyelid to look at me.

Water, woman. Look into my eyes. Wash my goblet and get me water. Here, see how cute I am? How can you let me thirst like this? (I shifted my weight so most of it was on only one paw – she grimaced and reached up to push me.)

I nudged her hand with my face, which she usually thinks is a gesture of affection. No. This is not. I’m trying to show her how dry my nose is. I am clearly dehydrated. Were I a desert cat, I might understand the lack of drinking water. But this is not a desert, and I am not a desert cat.

The she-servant rolled over and did not get up. Must now attempt to wake the he-servant.

I walked across his pillow and stepped on his forehead. He hates this; I’ve heard him say so. Then I flopped down on his pillow and threw myself against his head as hard as I dared – I certainly don’t want to injure myself.

The he-servant batted at me, but I ducked. Idiot.

I got back up. Spun in a little circle, found the spot closest to his mouth and threw myself against his face, draping my tail across his eyes.

Success! The he-servant is sitting up now! He doesn’t look happy, but who cares! I’m not happy either!

Now get me some water, Snorezilla, and don’t expect me to thank you.