Take Care of Master Al

I can't believe it's over.

But I knew this day would come.

Is it morning at the moment? Master Al would be waking up now after a dutiful paw slid through the railing to poke him in the face. That would be my paw, of course. He is usually an early riser though – thank feline – or I would have to wait 'til noon to be fed!

When he wakes up, you have to be cautious; he is groggy until he has consumed what humans call "a life source". It has the appearance of black owl pellets however. I don't quite understand how he drinks such a substance. Rainwater is fine by me.

In such a circumstance that he doesn't awake, heed my advice: advance with caution onto the bed and dig your claws in at the best opportunity. Master Al always rises to this.

He will stumble a little on the stairs. I would guide him with my tail waving high and direct him to the kitchen (the most important location in the house). There you sit by the food bowl and request him for breakfast. Do not stop – even if the effort appears to be futile, rub against his legs and keep requesting – he'll come through eventually.

I would like to eat three portions of breakfast preferably. You have to ensure that Master Al priorities his most faithful companion first. You eat first therefore.

While Master Al ponders through his bizarre morning routine, leave through the cat flap for your morning prowl of the territory; you have a Master to protect. There are few houses in the country town where he has settled; the territory primarily consists of sheep and farmers. However, there are moorland creatures and other cats in the local area. I would hiss and arch my back at them, just to be safe. You cannot allow them to enter the garden under any circumstance.

If said intruder is smaller than you, and neither as sleek nor intelligent as you, pounce and bring Master Al back a token of your appreciation. Deposit it in his shoes or by his feet. He may make a bit of a ruckus, but he will take your gift all the same. I usually purr – I have succeeded in protecting my Master from a blackbird.

After such arduous work, take your reward, and nap directly on top of Master Al's papers. He won't ignore you this way. The purpose of this exercise is to spend some quality time with him, so sprawl out as far as you possibly can. If he ignores you, don't worry. He has no choice but to appreciate your morning's hard work and dedication. He'll reward you with a fuss.

I usually find myself enter a wonderful sleep. I either dream of sitting beside a log fire or chasing after dogs, which run away from me this time. They're wonderful. However, I am stirred awake by a gentle nudge. Master Al would pick up the crumpled research and newspaper I like to lie down on and return upstairs to get ready. Every day he leaves the house with his suitcase at the same time.

As he enters downstairs, he calls my name, but I refuse to acknowledge his call. He would leave in a hurry, but every morning, I watch from the front porch, behind a bush so he doesn't detect me, as he leaves. His path to wherever he goes is clear, thanks to my morning's work. I puff out my chest with pride.

There I sleep, even in the rain, until I hear the slosh of heavy footsteps in the puddles and mud. I would straighten up, give my fur a brisk clean, and hurry from my hidden location. Of course I'm mad at him for abandoning me for too many hours. Of course I'm filled with disdain for his lack of forgiveness for leaving me so. He bends down to pick me up, and for once I don't squirm away from the hold. He whispers words to me, as he cradles me in the rain.

He is so useless on his own; I have no choice but to forgive him.

Even though I would much prefer to retreat away to the bedroom now, Master Al creates himself another black drink, and gives me several slices of meats he had evidently procured from his outings. I must confess that I have never seen him hunt however. I then follow him to the study, where I nestle into my favourite corner of his desk, on top of a book, and watch him work. I don't fall asleep, but content myself into listening to his pen scratching over paper, the light shuffle of books and parchment. I see his concentrated gaze, brows furrowed, as he hands clasp his hair in evident agitation.

And then it's as if he has pinned his prey and knows he is victorious. He bends over and writes ever more furiously before dropping his pen, rubbing his neck and stretching while pushing his chair back. I would close my lazy eye. Whenever he surrenders at a project, and sits there, there is no other choice but to take action. In this moment, cough up a fur ball over his project. This forces him to start again.

Master Al suddenly leaps from his chair and rushes into the hallway. I have no choice but to follow, although I will do so at my own leisurely pace. It cannot be dinnertime quite yet. He glances at the clock and he enters his cleaning frenzy. The instruments of torture which he uses to remove every feather from the blackbird I had caught this morning zoom around downstairs. At this point, I yowl and retreat to the garden or the bedroom.

Moments after silence falls across the house, there are multiple knocks at the door. My heart sinks – it's them. I hear the dog bark, which confirms my suspicions: Master Al's family has come to visit. I race down the stairs to not only conquer my fears of the canine brute that enters the house without my permission every week, but to protect Master Al. Just in case that these are intruders.

As I come down the stairs into the entranceway, I see the door open. Al's voice adopts a jovial tone – he is such a loving and considerate young man. He greets a man who appears to be identical to him, except this individual has long flowing hair and is considerably shorter than my Master. There is a blonde woman who sometimes accompanies him too with the dog. And there is a young boy with them who somehow in the space of a week went from sitting around doing nothing to tottering around on two unstable legs. The habits of the human race do not cease to amaze me.

On rare occasions, a petite female comes to the house with a black and white creature resembling a squashed beaver. Master Al is very close to them indeed. I wouldn't mind if they stayed – she brings me cat treats with an exotic taste, and I have to admit, they are delicious.

These people are not strangers. You have to be polite and muster up your courage against the dog, called Den for some reason, as her owners are pleasant enough. On a good afternoon after Al has brought through more (surprise, surprise) black beverages, I like to sit on their laps. They will stroke me and allow me to doze without being disturbed. Compared to Master Al however, they lack a certain finesse required to own a cat.

Time slips by when they're around. Master Al listens attentively to their conversation, laughs, or sometimes snorts, into his cup. He'll bounce the young boy on his lap, a wide smile beaming across both his and the boy's faces. Sunlight streams through the window. I purr lazily - everyone looks so happy.

Evening arrives. Master Al and I bid goodnight to our guests, help ourselves to too many portions of dinner, and settle around the fire. He sits in the armchair, while I stretch across the armrest. The lapping of the fire lulls me into a deep sleep. I can hear Master Al speaking softly to me, stroking me from head to tail tip. The flickering flames burn on.

I don't know what happens, but when I awaken next, I'm in his arms. He turns off the lights, carries me in his fleece up the stairs and crawls into bed with me by his side. Every night.

And then I had to go.

Master Al. He's alone.

From where I reside now, I can watch over my Master. I know he is lonely – he almost drools around the house, and that determined fire in his eyes seems to have melted away.

That is why I need your help. I have chosen you to carry on the legacy of being the dutiful companion to Master Alphonse Elric.

You won't remember me, I know that. Even so, my name is Nina May Elric and I have a favour to ask of you. Please look after him.

Cats have a pride about them, but I'll forsake this for my Master. I'll beg if I have to. Please…

Take care of Master Al for me.