My favorite spot is 4 feet off the ground. I sit in my furry tower for hours. I climb up here to be alone and safe. With my comfort level intact, I can sleep for hours. My sleep and private space is oftentimes invaded by the humans in the house. Oh, I do love their affection. I purr and snuggle next to their stroking hand. After a few moments, I change my mind. I simply do not want to be touched. Yes, I am a calico cat. A tap on the hand with my sharp teeth or a loud hiss sends a piercing message. Leave me alone or there will be consequences.
I like my elevated spot. I can see several rooms in the house and the outside. I peer through a large window and view the backyard and an enormous open area with raised objects in the horizon. While I am not allowed to venture outside, I love gazing at the scenery and dreaming of being able to prowl about. In the distance, some tiny things are moving on the snow covered land. I continue to watch the horizon hoping that something will scamper closer to the house.
My attention is distracted. Banging and clanking sounds can be heard through the window. My tail gets puffy and I run uncontrollably around the house. I eventually head for a room near the front door. I crouch down and slither under a large object with fabric covering its sides.
No wonder my furry friends and enemies are staying away. The noise can go on and on. Sometimes the sounds last until it is dark outside. Eventually, I venture out. I do not want to stay secluded for long.
I return to my favorite perch. I glance at a large room where the people oftentimes sit. They face a large rectangle that emits colors and sounds. The images are usually bright and change often. I end up in a trance and then sometimes fall asleep. Crash.. Bam…Boom. I jump off my safe place and onto a black box that is vibrating with each sound.
Next, I try to leap onto something that hangs above an area that can be hot. I misjudge the height. I barely land on a table next to the window ledge. Why didn’t they make this area wider so that I could have another high place to rest?
On the other side is another room. I explore this one with my nose. Some smells are enticing. Sniff…Sniff. I draw nearer. I stop. Sniff…Sniff… I continue walking. Yuck, I smell something offensive. I bolt away.
I’m thirsty. I stop at my water fountain for a quick drink of water or nibble on some of my tasty food. Near my feeding station is a platform. I hop up and continue smelling. My tongue slides across the smooth service. I indulge in a human tidbit. Yum. The morsel is bigger than I expected. It gets caught in my throat. I struggle to breathe. I tremble and shake. Sounds come from my belly. I rid myself of it.
The humans are heading down the staircase. I quickly follow. I try to sneak by them. They get through the doorway and close the door behind them. I missed another opportunity to get in. Under the door, I can see light but nothing more. Why won’t they let me explore the other side?
I shouldn’t complain because there are other rooms. One room has many window ledges and a door with a window. Even though the windows are covered with material, I can sneak behind it and peer out. I like to come to this room when it is dark. The two humans lay there. I can hear them breathing softly. I snuggle in between them. I purr softly.
One howl. Then two more. I scamper to the window and look. In the distance, I see some of my enemies. I hiss and growl.
My night time stroll has made me thirsty. I walk into the next room. I stick my tongue into a long tube and force bursts of water to come out. It’s fun to play this game. I walk through another door and nestle myself behind shoes and boxes.
“Chloe…Chloe…Where are you?”
They do not know where I am. I remain quiet.
I like laying on the soft carpet. I feel safe. I could stay here for hours.
Rays of light are blanketing the floor. I’m ready to find the humans. I walk to the front of the house and down a short hallway. In this room, I can jump up to different levels. I have to be careful. One wrong move and I knock things onto the floor.
The two humans are sitting. I hop onto one of the human’s lap. She is sitting in front of a small rectangular object that has voices coming out from it. I push my nose up against her body. At first, she doesn’t respond. Next, I rub my head against her hand. She embraces me. I move my head close to her. I lick her hand. Suddenly, I have an urge. I start to wag my tail, wiggle my ears, and put my teeth into her human’s flesh.
I jump off and run back to my perch.
This blog was written in response to the NaBloPoMo prompt for Thursday, February 6, 2013. Today, you are reading a cat’s perspective.
Sandra’s memoir highlights her living and teaching adventure in Bangalore, India. She is a licensed Colorado teacher who has taught K-12 students in the United States and abroad as well as college level courses. Sandra is married and has four adult sons.
The memoir was a finalist in the Travel category for the 2013 Next Generation Indie Book Awards, the 2013 International Book Awards, the 2013 National Indie Book Excellence Awards, 2013 USA Best Book Awards, and a Honorable Mention award in the Multicultural Non-Fiction category for the 2013 Global ebook Awards.