Total Pageviews

Monday, October 29, 2012

Buckminster & Amber - 8

I’ve been watching Tom for the last hour.  He is watching me as well. He’s in our crow feeder with a smirk on his face. What are you going to do about it, he’s thinking.  My servants have some kind of need to feed. The leave old meat and pasta in the feeder for the crows and peanuts for the squirrels. That’s fine with me. Tom doesn’t look so tough. Four pounds at best, a little more than Amber, but not in my weight class. He’s fast though; I’ll give him that. 
            My servants never stop these last eight weeks . . . up and down stairs with boxes, in and out of the house all day. I hang around the front door acting nonchalant . . . uninterested. I could get out easy, but they’d see my escape. I’ve gotten out twice in the last six years but they hunted me down. I didn’t get very far. Last time lured me back with a sardine. I was under a bush and safely out of their reach, but there are some treats cats are genetically incapable of resisting. It was great being outside for a few minutes — another world. A world without walls and an endless variety of scents . . . totally fascinating. 
           You'd think Halloween should be a good time to escape, but it’s not. They keep us shut up in a small room upstairs when the little bipeds come for candy. But I’m watching more than Tom these days.

             I'm watching every thing and everybody, not to mention the laundry room window which was open for a while today, but then they closed it. This whole house is in a state of total chaos. You cannot depend on anything staying in one place for more than an hour. Strange people come and go. Sometimes they sit with our servants at the kitchen table, but they don’t eat. They just talk and pass papers back and forth. One of them smelled like dog. With all this going on I'm sure to get my chance, and when it comes I’m gone. I do not want to end up on the streets of Gothenburg, or Gotterdamen. If I’m going to escape it’s got to be here—and soon. 
             I wish my claws were sharper. It won’t be easy on the outside. I will not have servants and might miss a few meals, but I can afford to lose half a pound. I’ll have rock hard abs in a week or so, And sharp claws!

No comments:

Post a Comment