Memoirs of a Feral Cat

2 front paws pinning the flier to the ground. Its annoying chirps echoed off the trees and through my head. I lugged it to the tall shrubbery and settled into the soft ground. A few good chomps put an end to the incessant peeping. The fresh meat filled a hole that had gnawed at me far too long. Satisfied, I gave myself a good grooming, leaving my fur clean of feathers, blood, and any other unwanted bits before laying my head down for a necessary rest after the arduous morning’s pursuit. The sun slid partway down its arc as I meandered into a park. Glare reflected off tall metal structures blinding me. I took refuge between the bushes that rimmed the edges and sank into the cool grass, closing my eyes to the dazzle. Searching for shelter is part of my routine, whether it’s under decayed floorboards, squeezed in openings of walls, or amidst the bushes in a park. My ears pricked at a chorus of shouts. Squinting through the leaves, I saw little two-leggers climbing all over the metal forms. A couple of them chased and knocked each other down just like kittens, crunching the stones that blanketed the area. They bumped into an even tinier two-legger held captive in a cage that dangled on chains attached at the tallest part of the metal structure. A fully matured two-legger waved its arms and growled at the two playful youngsters until they moved off. The adult pushed the cage housing the bitty thing. It flew up in a graceful bend and then fell back towards the big two-legger, who pushed it again and again. That tiny two-legger was trying to escape from the cage. It kicked its little legs furiously and squealed like the flier I caught. Was that a mother or father two-legger who held it captive? Why did it scare its offspring? You would never catch a mother cat doing that. All the more reason to keep my distance from them. If that’s what the two-leggers did to their own kind, imagine how they would treat a four-legger. I would never be a domestie. Those felines that depended on two-leggers for food and shelter should be ashamed of themselves. Didn’t they want to use their hunting skills? They probably buried them along with their pride. The light faded and more of the adult-sized two-leggers appeared on