2 steps forward . . . one step back

Today as I was laying on the mat outside my cage and looking for the big orange cat head with the beady eyes, I hearkened back to a more turbulent time . . . about a month ago. Yes, those were the days. On the particular day I was musing about, I recalled that the Old Guy was getting pretty cavalier with me, apparently believing that our relationship had finally turned a corner. What a day indeed. The Old Guy fed me outside of my cage. Once finished eating I started to freak out as I sniffed around the outside of the cage. The Old Guy could see my consternation and reached out to grab me. I latched onto his finger. However, I am an ethical cat and practice "catch and release". So I bit hard (ie. blood was gushing and he was cussing), let him go and ran to a place I had scooped out before. It was a little alcove under some floor to ceiling cabinets he had installed at an earlier time. The alcove was only big enough for me to crawl into and it went back about 18 inches. Just out of reach. It was perfect. Well he huffed, and he puffed and he bitched, but I wouldn't budge. He threw food my way, Tuna (my favorite), you name it. He knows I can't eat when I'm nervous. Then he left me alone, presumably thinking I would just walk out. Ha Ha. Joke was on him. No way was I coming out. Unfortunately, he finally lost patience and out came the dreaded . . . leather gardening glove. He reached in and I really wanted to taste human flesh. Instead all I got was a garden glove sandwich without the meat. He finally got my neck and dragged me out. Where's PETA when you need them? Needless to say, I spent a few days in the clink after that. But as I say, that was last month and now I'm out of the cage all day, left to ponder the big orange cat head with the beady eyes. Oh yeah, remind me to tell you about mousie.