Story about a cat

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My name is Butterscotch, and I am a house cat. What that means is that I have some people. They are the ones I spend a little time with. In exchange for my modest affections, they provide food and use their big hands like tongues to ruffle my fur and keep me shiny and clean.

I live next to a big wild place. If I could understand what my people were saying with their words, I would know that they call the place Forest Park. To me it is a big and scary place. There are all kinds of animals in the park that made me really nervous. Especially the raccoons. I shudder just thinking about them. They have hands and masks and as you know animals with masks cannot be trusted!

I had a bad time once. My people disappeared for several days and usually when they disappear another person from next-door comes over and takes care of me and gives me food. But this time it seemed like I was all on my own.

After two days of no food I was getting really hungry. I had been hanging around waiting for my people to come home and give me some food, but they never came! Finally I decided I had to be brave and go find some food of my own.

I decided the right place to find food was in Forest Park. I knew there were lots of little animals that would make a nice meal for me. So I tiptoed into the park and found a nice spot that I could crouch and hide and yet see all the land around me.

I tried for a bird, but they were so sneaky. As soon as I get close they just fly into the trees. Rascally birds! I tried for a squirrel, but it was too fast for me as well. And once it climbed the tree it just chattered and shouted and chattered at me. It was quite humiliating.

After I'd been sitting there for a while and trying to jump on some of those small animals and bat them and eat them I heard some people coming. They were walking on one of the long narrow cleared parts of the forest and it was a rather large group. They were all different sizes.

Normally I play it kind of cool with people. Even my own people, let alone people I don't know. But I was a little desperate so I decided to give a burst of affection to these folks and see if they would give me something to eat. I thought I would do the old meow and rub against the leg and when they put the hand down, rub against the hand back-and-forth, back-and-forth check and see if that led to some food. If that didn't work I was going to cry out plaintively over and over while walking after them; I thought that would work for sure.

You probably think this story has a happy ending; it doesn't. I thought I was going to get some food from those people and my starvation would be over. But instead, the indignity, I was attacked and accosted by one of the small ones.

It wobbled toward me on shaky legs with hands grasping, grasping, grasping and, when that one got close to me, I tried my rub against the leg technique but all I got was grabbed! That one was strong! It grabbed the fur on me with both hands and held and pulled. For those of you who don't know, cats don't like such. Not only did this little one grab and pull, but it made the most awful loud sounds at the same time, something half way between a hiccup and a yell, over and over, it was something like "Kitty, kitty, kitty!". It was all too much to bear. After my disappointing hunting, and now this!

I shrugged and tugged and finally got free. I raced home to my secret hiding place under the porch. While I was laying there licking my sore back fur and trying to collect my dignity, my people came home.

I was so happy to see them, that I didn't even play snooty and hard to get. I just rubbed against their legs and purred and was three times as affectionate as I normally am. And I guess this story does have a happy ending after all, because they fed me, not just the dry food, but the nice, yummy, soft, wet and moist food that comes from the can.

Anyway, the moral of the story is watch out for those little wobbly ones. They are dangerous!

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