In Response to the Cat's Diary

I have but a moment before one of them comes back. They seem to be everywhere and they know all. The only reason I have this brief moment is because I fed them early and they are deep in the bowels of their bowls. It all began so innocently. It was merely a trip to the Humane Society on a lovely fall day. I blithely looked in the windows of the various rooms never knowing that it would spell my doom.  There were hundreds of them. If I had known what I know now, I would have expired on the spot. But no, my blissful ignorance blinded me to the obvious. Those poor, poor people working at the society thought they were the captors, when really they were merely the pawns of the evil horde.  Alas, I can’t help them. I only have enough strength left for one more attempt. I was a fool that day. What I thought was instant love between me and the fluffy one was instead a diabolical plot to force me to bring her home. We were not in what used to be MY home for more than three minutes before the truth began to slowly seep into my reality.

It began oh so innocently, a mew, a purr and suddenly I was in PetSmart buying a fancy new automatic waterdish. Who needs an automatic waterdish?! The next day was worse. I found myself convinced that moist food was the only way to go. My precious needed soft food, preferably warmed for exactly 15 seconds in the microwave with a soupçon of paprika. Paprika?? What was happening here! I tried to resist this silliness, but I was tormented by a fluffy tail in my face every time I began to fall asleep. After two sleepless nights, I caved. I caved like a wet tissue in a sneezing fit.  It was over for me. I admitted defeat. I was now the captive human of a 2 pound Persian and her toy mouse.

I began to plan my escape. Instead, I found myself back at the Humane Society because her majesty needed a consort. Not that she could do anything with him, as they were both it-ed, but it was a fabulous ploy to bind me to them even further. What one of them couldn’t accomplish, surely the two of them could. And they did. Boy did they. I found myself catering to their every whim. They cried I came running. They wanted to sleep on my pillow, I slept at the bottom of the bed. They wanted a cat tree, I emptied my savings account to give them the world covered in tan carpet and sisal rope.

It is now day number 412 of my captivity, I am now owned by five of them. They see my every move. They haunt my steps. My sleep is only at their will and my days are run by their feeding schedule. I am lost. Send help. Send. The. Dog…