Memoirs of a Feral Cat

13 my nostrils, traveling right up to my forehead. It never failed, one of them attempted to touch me. I would dodge their advance and escape outside. Only the food bearer had that privilege. It didn’t take long before they left me alone. The little two-legger twittered at me whenever it dropped food. At first it sounded like, “blesh, blash, babba, bebba, sheshe, shesha.” Then it hit me that it was repeating one bit of the clatter over and over, “Sheba, Sheba.” Every time it dropped some food, I heard, “Sheba.” When I returned to the house each day, it would shout, “Sheba.” I would approach, and it fed me. Two-leggers could be trained. I refused to admit the easy life was pulling me away from my true calling of hunting and stalking. Surrendering my preferences to having food handed to me each day stopped the worry of my next meal. “Perfectly reasonable,” I convinced myself. One so-called typical day turned into a nightmare. The two-legger yelled, “Sheba,” following up with its offering of food. I closed my eyes to endure its flat, hairless paw stroking my body. My back never felt its weight. The air around me turned heavy and I couldn’t breathe. My eyes opened to darkness as my shoulder knocked into a barrier. I was trapped. “Let me out! Let me out!” I clawed at the sides. Something lifted me off the ground and I swung from side to side. “Sheba, Sheba,” echoed around me. I screamed and slashed. The rocking stopped, but vibrations under my feet accompanied by a whirring sound immobilized me. I stifled a cry and cocked an ear to the side of the box. Some rumbling thing not only had me trapped but it was carrying me. I was the prey in its grasp, like a bird between its hunter’s teeth. But now I was the bird. A loud, piercing shriek bellowed out of my mouth. Finally, my enclosure opened, letting in light. I didn’t know this place. Its smells assaulted me: barkers, other felines, lots of two-leggers and horrible odors impossible to identify. I spat out growls and hisses. A huge pair of two-legger paws seized me, locking me in a tight grip. I couldn’t move or defend myself. A piercing sensation tore into my back side.