Memoirs of a Feral Cat

11 than myself. I scurried up the fence, jumped onto the street, and stopped. Hunger knocked at my stomach. My tongue ran around my mouth, enjoying the remnants of the fish. It would be a shame to let that mound of leftovers on the grass go to waste. And, maybe the squirrel was still around. I climbed back up the fence and peered in the tree. No varmint. I checked the garden. No two-legger, but the remains of my fish hadn’t moved. How hungry was I? Enough to return. I eased my way down the fence and crept over to the food, keeping a watchful eye. Before you could say mouse in your mouth , I gobbled up the remains, flew back over to the safe side of the fence, and returned to my sleeping area. Much to my shame, I dropped by the same house the next day hoping to find more food waiting for me, and to my stomach’s delight I did. Same strange fish-like stuff that filled a gnawing hole. That youngish two-legger poked its head out from behind a bush, and I leaped away. Why did it do that? Of course, its surprise appearances didn’t stop me from returning. Eventually its routine of popping into my view stopped startling me. One day I looked up from the food and waited. Like all the other days, the head appeared. Unlike the other days, I stayed put and the two of us locked eyes. No fur covered its face, but long straggly strands of hair dangled on either side of its round head. Its towering size dwarfed me. I supposed that was how a mouse must have felt in my presence as an image of one staring up at me flashed across my mind. The two-legger’s massive eyes blinked a lot. Its mouth opened to the size of a bird’s nest and curved into an arch showing a row of big, flat teeth. I eventually yawned, sat down and looked away. My front leg required my attention. It needed a good licking to rid it of specks of clinging dust. A strange noise beeped over to me and a bit of fish flew out of the paw of the two-legger, landing in the grass in front of me. My body eased up to all fours and I put one paw forward. No movement from the two-legger. Another three well-placed steps and the fish was mine. More food dropped ahead of me which I gobbled up, followed by more and more. Before I knew it, my nose found itself sniffing the contents in the two-legger’s paw.