I did not get up this morning. Or at least I don't think so. Well . . . I guess it might have been morning. It is easy to confuse those human times. It took me almost all of my life to figure it out. Anyway, when I woke up, I didn't feel well. Last night, I had some leftovers that my new little master left me. I think they were Cheerios. Whatever they were, I don't think that they agreed with me. So I left them in the laundry room. Kimmie, my mother, was not too happy. She still loves me though. I get extra special treatment when I act sick, so I don't mind acting sick that much. Mother put me in her old doll stroller and expected me to stay. Actually it was nice to nap in, but I knew that as soon as the people got off the table, the doors would close. It's not that I don't like to be in my home, but I want some excitement once in a while. I could not risk losing my morning opportunity to get free.
So, I very quietly slipped out of the blankets and crept away. Mother saw it because I must have turned over the carriage or something and she was very upset. She chased me under the bed, and was going to spray me with her water bottle when her mother told her to "Stop bugging the cat and do school." It got quiet, and I figured things were safe.
I peeked my head out from under the bed and suddenly I heard a squeal and saw a chubby little hand reaching for my nose hair. Getting my nose hair pulled, no matter how sweet the baby human, just didn't sound good. I didn't have many whiskers to spare, so I had to find a better route. Time was running out, and all the other routes were blocked by boxes and blankets.
Speed was my best bet. I hate to admit this, but I never was good at anything, and I certainly am not a fast runner, for very long at least. Even then, I had to try it. Bad idea. As I sprung out of hiding that silly little human threw herself on me and grabbed on. I dragged her for a few inches and then stopped. That little girl was torturing me. I hoped she would just pull the hair out and let me go, but she still hung on tight. I meowed my most pitiful cat meow. The baby squealed and ripped out all the hair she had a hold of. I was free! Even if I was bald, I was free! As I ran away, I heard the Master Mother exclaim, "Josephine!" and begin scolding. Well deserved, to say the least. I would have liked to go and strut around and play brave, but there wasn't much time left.
Down the stairs I went, or almost down, when suddenly "meOW!" my head hit something. I shook my head to clear the blurry images in front of me. Oh, how dumb! I had run into that baby human's pen door. I meowed one loud meow, but no one came to save me. I was stuck. Just then the thought of the "Josephine" came back to me. She must still be up there.
Suddenly, I heard a coo and a squeal. "Ki . . . Ki. . ." And then I saw it, or her. She was backing down the stairs, I could see the pink shoes and her little chubby hands. I meowed one last time, and when nobody answered, I leaped over the gate and into safety. It hurt my aging joints, but at least I wasn't bald. I sat down and briefly licked myself. The "Josephine" awkwardly plunked down on her diaper on the other side of the gate. She grinned and tried to reach between the bars. I backed away and continued nonchalantly cleaning myself. She fussed and flopped her arms when she realized she couldn't get through to me.
At this time I turned my mind to the matter at hand. I had to get out before the . . .Oh no! Master Father was gone. The doors were almost certainly closed. I ran to the back door and then back to the front about 3 times before giving up and deciding they really were closed. All was lost! And just because of that awful little monster that delayed me.
Being a little bit tired, and quite discouraged, I picked at a few left over cheerios, finished the little bit of food in my bowl, and settled down in a window. The sun was warm, and there weren't many birds to see. "I am tired now anyway," I thought. "I may as well catch a cat nap." So I found a nice high spot, I don't remember exactly where, I think it was the couch, or was it the recliner? Oh yeah, it was the keyboard with the fuzzy dust cover in the downstairs living room. At any rate, I went to sleep and didn't wake up until one of those human times when the sun is low in the west.
I heard a loud voice coming down the stairs with Mother. Mother picked me up, right out of my deep sleep and started petting me. I didn't like being awakened like that, but the petting under my chin made me purr sleepily and forget my objections. Soon I got passed to the girl standing beside Mother. She looked similar to Mother, but she smelled like my worst enemy, "Rocky"! I squirmed and tried to jump away, but she held tight. She was saying things like "Oh he's so sweet!" and "He is so much nicer than Rocky!" But I knew what she planned to do. She would feed me to her Rocky, or worse, eat me herself! I hissed and bit her arm. She dropped me and I ran as fast as my legs could carry me.
I heard Mother yelling at me and the girl crying, but I didn't care. I had done what I did out of self-defense. Soon mother caught up with me, sprayed me out from under the bed, and grabbed me by the scruff of my neck. I couldn't move, or even defend myself! Maybe I had trusted Mother too much and I was going to get fed to Rocky anyway. But to my relief, she tossed me on the washing machine in my room, and shut the door with a firm "Bad kitty!"
After a second I realized how bad I needed to use the litter box. Aunt Amy hadn't done too well cleaning it. On top of that, my food dish was empty. I lapped some stale water from the dish with my name on it and jumped onto the washing machine and then into the window. After bird watching for a little while, I fell asleep again. I woke up to a growling stomach several times. Aunt Amy came in, about the time that humans finish dinner, cleaned my litter box, filled my food dish, and gave me fresh water. It was high time. I ate all the food in my dish. I was so stuffed, and it was so dark, that I went to sleep to the soft vibrations of the clothes dryer I was sitting on.
It was in the middle of the night when I woke up. Thankfully, my door never had a good latch, so the cool night draft popped the latch. I gleefully slipped out of my solitary prison. The back door was wide open!
My name is Amy Bredehoft and I am nearly fourteen years old. I enjoy playing my violin, writing, flying my kite, and reading adventure stories. One of my dreams is to get a kitten of my own and train it to do tricks. I am homeschooled along with my eleven-year-old sister.
My family has an eight-year-old cat named "Muggerli" that we love very much. The name "Muggerli" is Swiss German for cutie or sweetie. Since the birth of my youngest sister, he has been ignored more than usual. Because of this, I wrote the story "One More Bad Day" to tell the world I still love him and think he is a fine cat.
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