A Day in the Life of Weasel

Lazily, I lift my eyelids, but only slightly. I hear the sound of one of those big metal machines on wheels coming down the gravel driveway. Not knowing whether this is one of my humans or not I choose not to get up just yet, it was a long night of hunting snakes and rodents that trespass into the vegetable beds of my farm. I hear the sound of keys jingling and footsteps coming towards the fence that wraps around my home. It’s not until I hear the lock click open and the chain fall against the fence that I lift my head. I know now that it must be one of my humans here to feed and pet me. As I walk in their direction, I try to squeeze in my daily cat stretches; health is pretty important, after all.

It’s the two blonde humans today. I prance up to them as they are unlocking the wooden building where they store my food. I am fully expecting my mandatory greeting pets, but they seem distracted today, both staring at the black wall they sometimes write on. Then, one of them heads towards a chair, that’s the signal; anytime someone sits in one of the chairs around the table it means they are ready to attentively pet me. I don’t wait for an invitation, they know the drill, and I leap onto their lap. Without fail, it begins- this daily stroking, scratching, and general patting is the perfect way to begin my morning.

The other blonde wanders out of the barn, maybe she’ll find the gift I left for them around the corner. Sure enough, I hear the footsteps stop and the elevated voice of the human outside saying something to the other. I hear the name they use to refer to me- Weasel. The blonde that is affectionately snuggling me chuckles and gives me a few more scratches before rising from the chair and urging me off her lap. Slightly peeved with the interrupted morning pets I stay behind and bathe myself. I never know what they do with the gifts I leave them; surely they are proudly displayed in a trophy case somewhere being admired by all the humans who pass through my farm.

 

I find a suitable place to perch and continue grooming myself. More of those metal machines start rolling down the gravel lane and 5-10 humans exit the cars. My two blonde humans greet them enthusiastically and hand them paper and pens. The guest humans sit down on the benches outside, most assuredly awaiting my approach. I waste no time; freshly groomed and well rested,I strut over to the group. They “ooh” and “aah” at me, some reaching out their hands and making that familiar clicking noise with their mouths trying to draw my attention. There is no method to my choosing, I approach all to receive my pets, some are too soft, some are too rough, some are just right- and it’s these ones I linger around.

My blonde humans and this new group wander off to play in the dirt; they sure do love dirt around here. I take this opportunity to take a well-deserved nap in my favorite building. It’s always warm inside; the walls are nearly clear so I can keep an eye on my farm, and occasionally a human will wander in to love on me while I rest. I travel back and forth between this building and the big wooden one. Sometimes I explore the grounds or administer breaks in the form of snuggles for the humans digging in the dirt.

I know the day is coming to an end when the guest humans have gone and it is just me and my humans. They complete a few more small tasks and herd the chickens back into their home. After a few more pets and scratches, they lock the buildings and fences and take their leave. As the sun goes down, the farm comes alive with various insects and critters. Thus, the real work begins. I begin patrolling the grounds, fending off intruders, and practicing my skills in stealth and agility. I keep myself busy and take the occasional nap until the next day when the cycle begins again.