Occasionally, along with the pretty lady and little girl, an old guy would come into my backyard. He always seemed to be mowing the lawn or trimming the bushes and so I just figured he was the gardner. Sometimes he would play with the pretty little girl. He seemed nice enough. Anyway, slowly I got to be friends with the pretty lady and I would let her pet me and brush me. I loved to play in my yard when she was there. One day the old guy showed up when I was letting the lady pet me and so I let him give me a small scratch on the back and then ran away. Little did I know then, I should have kept running.
One Sunday in June the old guy showed up and did some gardening. Then he sat very still in the yard and I went over to him and let him scratch me. He knew all the right places and I even purred. That day he also fed me. In fact he gave me lots of food and treats. Then, late afternoon he brought down a funny looking box with a wire gate on it and put it next to my bowl. After he left I sniffed it out. It smelled pretty harmless.
The next day, June 22, early in the morning, the old guy came down with lots of food. He never did this before and so I was a little suspicious. But, I was also very hungry so I went over to check him out. He put food in the bowl and put my bowl into the box. He must have thought I just fell off the turnip truck! I stayed in the bushes . . . but I was really hungry so I walked over to sniff. The old guy, who obviously wasn't very smart, only put the bowl half way into the box, so I could stand outside and stretch my neck to the food and eat. Then he scratched my back and reached in, of course I ran. He then moved the food all the way to the end of the box. Since I was still really hungry I came back over. I had to step into the box to eat, but I could keep one hind leg out, and my tail. All of a sudden I got a bad feeling and started to run. The old guy, who along with not being very smart, isn't very quick either, started to close the gate but I threw myself against it and growled and hissed. He pushed, I growled, I hissed, he relaxed and I ran out. Needless to say, there was no way I was going to let the old guy feed me again.
About an hour later, the pretty lady came out with food. Of course she was my friend and so I went over to her. She pet me, she scratched my back, she picked me up, she threw me in the box, she closed the door. I was busted. Bummer!
The next thing I know, the old guy carried the box, which he called a cat carrier, to the car and put me in the back. I had some food and water, but no way was I going to eat, drink or poop. I was going on a cat-strike baby! The next thing I knew, another pretty lady got in the car (funny, she kind of looked like the pretty lady that always fed me) and the old guy started the car and we all drove away. I thought, "wow, it's only 7:00 a.m. and this day already sucks. At least things can't get much worse." How wrong I was!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment