Diary of a Bad Housecat
I would be the first to admit that I’m a bad, bad cat. Apparently when I was made, they were all out of the “good” attributes like self-control, willpower and obedience. All attempts by the Warden to train me have been futile, and I pretty much do what I want, with WHATEVER I want. I just can’t help it. Yeah, that’s my defense and I’m sticking to it.
When I see something I covet, I go after it with no thought to the consequences. Usually, what I want is the Warden’s food. It perplexes her, and she says things like “Rocky, I feed you two square meals a day, plus a handful of those scrumptious TidNips™ treats at bedtime – why do you always act like you’re starving?” Well…allow me to explain.
You see, I absolutely love my FELIDAE cat food, and those TidNips are the tastiest treats I’ve eaten in all my 8 years of cathood. But those things are for CATS, and I want what the Warden is having because it’s for people and thus, it’s forbidden. We all know that when something is forbidden, it becomes infinitely more desirable. It doesn’t matter what the Warden is eating, really; I stop at nothing to get my paws on it.
And that, my friends, is what led to the fateful day the Warden screamed the most awful sentence at me. “Rocky!! I don't want to EVER see your face again!” she yelled. Oh my. I was in big trouble.
To say that the Warden was angry at me would be quite an understatement. Unfortunately, I deserved her wrath – I was a bad, bad kitty!! As I attempted to snag the muffin on her desk, I knocked over her freshly made Grande Latte before she'd taken even one tiny sip. The brown liquid flowed across her desk, and what wasn't taken up by all her work papers spilled over the side, soaking into the brand new carpet. Oops.
I watched helplessly as the Warden scrambled for rags in a desperate attempt to mitigate the damage. I should've gone straightaway into hiding, because when she saw me she gave chase, flailing her arms. That's when she screamed that horrible sentence at me. Did she mean it? Would I ever be able to come out of hiding?
The Warden spent nearly an hour cleaning up my unintended mess. She then stormed out of the house, but not before saying loving goodbyes to the other feline inmates, and ignoring me. Ouch, that hurt my feelings! When she came home hours later, I cautiously crept from my hiding spot and sat where she could see me, but where I'd be able to get away if she chased after me again. I admit I was afraid, because I’d never seen her as angry as she’d been earlier.
She walked up to me slowly, her hand outstretched. When she reached me, she bent down and gently stroked my fur. “Rocky, I didn't mean what I said. I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Tears slipped down her face and landed on my fur. “I will always love you, even when you’re a bad kitty.”
I knew then that I could unpack my bag. I didn't need to run away and become Hobo Cat after all, because the Warden's soft heart had forgiven me once again. And if there’s a moral to this little tale, it would be this: from now on, leave the Warden’s food alone!! (Yeah, like that’s ever gonna happen).
To be continued…
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