I
have played quite a bit lately, as I am getting used to this place. There’s not much room to play, but every now
and then I can jump over Miss Patchy and sometimes somebody will help me to
play with Ribbon.
Well,
we are in prison. No matter how you look
at it, we are in prison. That’s Miss
Patchy’s conclusion, and I believe her.
Every time someone comes into the room or leaves the room, we are pushed
aside, or told “No!,” and the human goes out quickly and shuts the door on
us. I’m not sure why we are in prison,
but it’s not a lot of fun. There are no
bars, like you see on TV, but we are in prison, just the same. I so much want to explore the rest of this
house, and I did a little bit the day I hid in the attic, but since that day,
we are not allowed out of our cell, I mean our rooms. At least we have good food and water, litter
box, and Mom to snuggle with at night and sometimes during the day, but it is
still prison. At least at home we could
go out on the patio and watch the buzz birds and bugs, and smell the fresh air,
and feel the sunshine on our bodies. I
always rolled on the cement as soon as I could get out the door. Mom would always get a little mad, because
she said I got dust all over my fur. Who
cares about a little dust? Well, I guess
Mom does.
What
I need is some place to run. I’m afraid
my legs will get stiff or something if I don’t get to have a good run pretty
soon. Mom says that soon we will have
plenty of room to run, but I have my doubts about that. She keeps promising. I think we will be stuck here for the rest of
our lives. We do have windows, but most
of them just show us a wall. One window
shows us the back wall, a little place with some holes that are covered up (Mom
says it’s called a tandir) with a little roof over it, some dead grass beyond
the wall, and some other houses. There are
some birds flying around sometimes, and once in a while we can see a
human. We also hear some funny bird
sounds. Mom says they are roosters
crowing, and hens cackling. You could
not prove it by me, because I don’t know what that is. Mom says that they are chickens. (Why not just say chickens?) That makes Miss Patchy happy, because she
loves chicken. I don’t know what she
would do with a noisy one, though. If it
is alive, wouldn’t it fight with Miss Patchy?
If you can live in a turkey, can you live in a chicken? How big are they?
It
would be nice, but very scary, to go outside.
There are a lot of strange humans, and we have heard other felines out
there. Sometimes the other felines have
been in the house, because we have smelled them, especially in the basement and
the attic. I’m not sure why I like the
attic so much, but it is warm and comforting somehow.
Another
thing about this prison is that Mom’s computer is always here, so we have easy
access to it when she’s not around. Miss
Patchy has learned how to get on the internet with Dad’s phone. It isn’t always around, so we can’t go online
all the time, but we can have fun playing games and writing stuff to publish
online later. Mom keeps the dirty
clothes in here, too, as well as the detergent she uses to wash them. After she washes the clothes, they smell like
the outdoors. Is the dryer outside? There are a lot of things that Miss Patchy
and I do not understand about this house, besides why we are kept in prison,
but I guess it could be worse. It is
clean and dry and has lots of things from home.
I will try to like it here.
I
hear mousey calling me to play, so I’d better go. Miss Patchy is already asleep, since she got
rid of a big hairball this morning, and her stomach was hurting her. She’s better now, but she needs her nap.
Regards,
Mina
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