“Come on, at least take a teeny-tiny bite, you picky furball!”
I shoot a lazy look up at the shouting human’s trouser leg and wonder if the situation calls for a sharp, well-placed claw.
You don’t raise your voice at the man of the house. I mean, when did you last see one of the king’s servants shouting at him?
“A little respect wouldn’t kill you,” I hiss back quietly. Even with its limited intellect, SURELY the human can sense the severity of my tone.
“Not that I owe you an explanation, but I’ve decided not to eat the meal of the day because it’s on the dry side. I made it perfectly clear yesterday that I’d prefer the wet, juicy food from one of those small bags.”
The human slaps itself on the forehead and sighs with exhaustion, mumbling something about an “impossible cat.”
“Alright, I’m going outside to cool down before I decide to put you before the court for insulting His Majesty. Meanwhile, you can think about what kind of food you would serve to members of the royal family. That’s the level we’re looking for, understood?”
Out in the garden, I can’t help but notice how much fear I inspire. Birds, mice, and rabbits flee the likes of my powerful claws. A wise move. You see, I’m dangerous. And beautiful. And wonderful. And soft. And… whoops, that mouse didn’t get away in time. Snatched!
I’m actually quite hungry after the disappointing meal I was offered earlier. But it also occurs to me that the human probably feels so terrible about the service that it has forgotten to feed ITSELF. So, I decide to share the mouse with the poor, starving two-legs.
The door’s still open, and I rush inside, where I place the delicious, freshly caught mouse at the human’s feet.
“Dig in. We both know that you’re never going to catch anything with those weak, soft claws of yours.”
“Eeeww, what’s that!” the human shouts, much to my surprise.
“It’s food. And it’s much fresher than the dry rubbish you were trying to offload on me.”
“Baaabe, the cat did it again. There’s a gross mouse inside!”
“Gross? Excuse me, weren’t you just calling me picky? And now you’re turning down a perfectly crisp mouse?”
Once again, I must concede that I’ll never understand humans. It’s barely worth getting annoyed. That’s another chapter altogether.
