Memoirs of a Feral Cat

16 Chapter Three Enter Bendy Ears The tenderness in my stomach subsided, and my old carefree, feral- self came bounding back, well, almost. One change did occur; my feelings about two-leggers. Before, I was wary and unsure, but now, I have licked my paws of them. During that unfortunate incident, I had denied myself the joy of hunting, stalking, and the fun of exploring. Good riddance to reliance on others—forever. I happened upon an area with big houses and lush gardens. Pictures of plump, happy vermin boring their way to their underground homes or zipping along a tree branch raced through my mind. My next meal could be under the dirt right below me or slinking along a wall. I scanned a fence. Nothing slinking there. That would have been too easy. Pondering on where to begin, I turned in circles taking in the surroundings. So much to choose from . Happily, no two-leggers in sight. The barkers were also a problem, so unpredictable. Some would watch you without uttering a sound. Then when you got near them, they let out a howl making your ears lean back, followed by smashing their bodies against a fence. Others would yowl as soon as they spotted you, even if you were at the other end of the street. Those ones jumped at any old thing, even a teeny, weeny bug buzzing through their legs. All mutts spoiled a peaceful day. They excelled at that. And they were weird. These four-leggers had no power over their own lives. Many were confined to houses. If they spotted me, they either poked their noses between the fence slats, snorting and growling, or slobber and scratch at windows. Then a yell would come bellowing out of nowhere that put a halt to their shrieking, and their heads would bow. Amazing that they could be controlled from a distance. Mutts came in all kinds of shapes and sizes. Small as a rat to as tall as a short two-legger. Skinny as a twig to as broad as a tree trunk. There were