A Plea from Mooch, the Feline Prisoner of Richard Bleil
The human the feline keeps calling “Hey, Mister” is holding me prisoner. It’s just not a very nice thing. I was living happily with my many feline friends that I was not letting get the food that the human was putting out in the weather. It was beautiful. Except when it rained. Or snowed. Or stormed. Now I’m trapped in this heated and air-conditioned prison with the run of the entire place and all the food and water and treats I could possibly want. It’s terrible. Somebody save me.
Ugh, and there’s this other feline. The human keeps calling her “Star”. What an evil feline. She’s a black cat, and she keeps hissing at me, and fighting me, and stealing my food. Just terrible. I’m starting to get along a little bit better with her, but the he-human kept moving my food. At first, he kept the bowls within sight of this evil entity whenever she ate. Now it’s out of her line-of-sight, and I can eat with at least a little more peace.
Mostly I just hide. I hide behind the washing machine, or behind the couch, or under the spare bedroom bed, or on top of the bed, or on top of the couch or lots of comfy places. Anywhere away from Star is fine with me. The human isn’t so bad, I guess. He feeds me and gives me treats sometimes right out of his very hand. That’s okay. And I am starting to let him pet me some, although last night I was comfy cozy asleep on the spare bed between two pillows when he came in and gave me a little of what he calls “lovings” and pet me on top of my head and a little on my back. I had to get up and move two feet out of his reach. It was terrible. He clearly needs training.
For a while, I sat on the deep freeze by the window. He trapped me by giving me handfuls of food on the railing by the window. Then he started putting it on the deep freeze, so I’d have to come in a little bit to get the food he was freely giving me that I deserve because I’m a cat. Eventually, he put it on the other side of the deep freeze, so I had to actually come inside to get at it. It was horrible, but he kept the window open so I could leave. I was eating out of his hand and letting him pet me a bit then, but then, one day, he closed the window behind me. I meowed, but he wouldn’t let me out. Such a meany. I can’t believe I feel for it. Now he says he won’t let me out until I accept this as my home, then he says I’ll be able to leave if I want to, as long as I know I can come back. I don’t trust him. He’s a human. And he has a cruel cat.
Star often chases me away. It’s sad. She won’t let me near her food, and she steals mine. If I get too close, she hisses and swipes at me with those vicious long murder claws. The human keeps yelling at us to get along, but she doesn’t listen. It’s awful. And for a time, he used a squirt bottle to keep her away from my food, but she doesn’t go after it now that it’s out of sight for her. Every morning, he gives us both a wet breakfast food. Today was the first time I could eat mine in peace. It was delicious. I hated it.
The feline snuggles up with the human on the couch, and sometimes sleeps on top of him. It’s disgusting, and defelinizing. I would never, but she obviously is very protective and wouldn’t let me even if I wanted to be near his warm, safe, comfortable body. Why don’t humans have fur? They’re so pink and fleshy and disgusting that they have to cover themselves with this artificial kind of fur. Even they’re ashamed!
I don’t know what he’s hoping to accomplish. At night, the feline sleeps upstairs with the human. I tried sneaking upstairs a couple of nights ago, but the feline heard me and chased me back downstairs. I heard the human yell at us to get along, but I don’t think it could happen. I’ll escape. Some day I’ll find my way back to the outdoors, when I’m not so sleepy and decide to get off of the bed. Of course, he’d better keep feeding me when I do, that’s all I have to say.