Wonderful Ways Of Words
My writing is a little choppy, my paw is somewhat unsteady with the uncertainty I face at this moment. Today I will start to write down what is taking place all around me. I have discovered the wonderful ways of words. Here they are: Why do all the trees walk? Why am I shaking so? Why do my owners sit there with their backs turned to me? And why do I have these lines in front of my eyes? I can not even move them when I touch them, I would like to lie on my blanket in the niche by the window and help my man owner work on his box, clackedy, clackedy.
He always tells me what a great secretary I am, and he pays me very well, all the boxing matches and petting I get. He brushes my fur every day, and my woman owner brings me fresh grass in the morning, grass that I can smell while he brushes and brushes. I never get tiered of all this attention. They are good owners, they really have the best service in this place where I used to live, now I live in this shaky unstable: what is this room?
— Delicious Grass —
Licking my nose does not help much, I feel a little bit sick, just the way I feel when I have eaten too much grass. The trees that walk by don't smell. And there are feather things flying by, they normally smell like food, but not today. Sometimes, when I lie on the basket chair in the room my owners call: Florida room, I smell those food things when they stop for a drink and a bath in the water bowl on a stand. I wonder if my owners pick them up and that is what is on my food dish. I have never seen them do that, but I must admit that I sleep a lot and may have missed it.
Sleeping of course has always been my favorite work. Rolling up into myself, drifting and stretching my long toes, letting my claws play in and out of their pink sheaths, then turning onto my back and letting the cool breeze blow over my warm belly. Warm from the long rest that I have worked on for so long.
I Also Love Looking At The Sky
I love to look upside down at everything. My owners, or better: servants, the window with the food flying through the air. Funny the way food looks that way, silly. They should see themselves, foolish creatures they all are. The racket they make in the spring when the males push out their chests and chase the females. And all of that just to make more food. Like we don't have enough of it. I also love looking at the sky, but often I see dogs in the clouds, do not know why, but so it is. I try to be quiet when I see them. Better safe than sorry.
— Cloud Dog —
But now, I do not have the calm and comfort that I am used to. I did talk to my owners about it, but they seem to be very upset and do not listen to what I have to say. Normally they serve me so well, but now, I don't know. They put my cage up for me, the one she always takes me to that place with the smell of all the other critters, food smells too. There they put me on that table with the slick surface, the woman in the white coat pokes around on me and then, ouch―there is that horrible pain shooting through me. They pretend to like me at that point, but liking should not be expressed that way.
And then of course comes the worst of all. The woman in the white coat starts to poke around in my ears. The last time she did that I spit at her, I hissed and my claws came out all the way, but I slipped on that table and really had little success with my attempt to pay her back. No respect for me, that is what is wrong with her. I just do not like her at all. She does know my secret spots though, I must hand that to her.
She Strokes My Fur
Now this cage is here in this crammed quarter with my litter box beside it, just in case I have to go. But there again―I love to have my privacy for that, and I like for the ground to be stable for that too. Everything shakes now, including me. This is hell‼
Maybe I should go to my woman owner and sit on her lap, that feels so good, so warm. She strokes my fur so nice and runs that soft brush over me. I wonder why she never uses her tongue like my mother used to do. Maybe that is just for mothers, I don't know. She calls me "sweet baby" though. Well, I better find a way to get to her. It really is ridiculous how it shakes. The hissing noise under me is also very unnerving. Maybe there is a big cat trying to get in under this carpet. I just do not know what they think of to change our home like that. Next thing you know water will pour down from the ceiling.
Yea, the lap is what I needed, soft and not shaky at all. I think I will take a nap now. The hand feels oh so nice, she touches the secret spot behind my ears, bliss"
- Walking Trees — Page: 1
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