Seeking Purrfect Solitude

I sat at the screen door peering out, squinting at the morning sun’s rays that warmly bathed my face, longing for what lay beyond. Why doesn’t she let me out. She used to. I could smell my freedom, sweet solitude. I’d even tasted it once or twice, but always my pet collected me quickly, bringing me back to my prison. I wouldn’t go far, I assured her in my sweetest voice. My pet only mimicked my requests as she absently stroked my short, sleek fur. I thought she understood, as she usually did, but the door remained closed. I wound figure eight’s through her legs, momentarily forgetting my fierce craving for freedom. Her soft voice was a soothing caress that ended all too soon. A loud crash and the ensuing sounds of war claimed my pet’s attention. The enemy’s at it again, I thought, as she raced from the room.
Again, I sniffed at the scents of the roses, wisteria, and sweet grass that lay beyond my reach. And something else. I sniffed harder, and harder still. Recognition dawned. I bristled and growled low as the trespasser crept silently across my yard. “Leave,” I hissed, glaring through the mesh. Large, green, feline eyes stared back at me from a furry black face, but the intruder said nothing. I hissed another warning, putting forth more effort this time and gaining the attention of my two fellow inmates.
“Who is it?” one growled.
“Back off!” I returned, and swung a right hook just for good measure. “I’ll take care of this.” Being the dominant of the three of us, I received no argument. She gave me her back and sauntered from the room. The younger of my comrades was more stubborn and disrespectful in her refusal to heed my warning. She attempted to approach the screen and we circled each other.
“You can’t have all the fun,” she said as she side-winded toward me.
“Don’t start with me, youngun.” I advised.
“Come on, let’s dance.” With that she jumped at me and we both let loose a volley of hisses and growls as we tumbled.
“Hey now! Break it up,” my pet said as she re-entered and moved toward us. My rude assailant shot from the room and I wound through my pet’s legs again, thankful for her intervention. She scratched the top of my head and I pushed up into her touch. She’s such a loyal pet, always there to rescue me from those who chose to irritate me . If only she would allow me some freedom life would be almost perfect. Almost.
My pet left me again to my pining at the screen door, however, my thoughts were soon interrupted by my nemesis - the youngest of my pet’s overly active offspring - as she burst in the room and made a bee line for me. I dodged her hands but she was much faster than I. Hauling me up, she held me dangling by my shoulders though I objected and demanded release.
“Love kitty, love kitty,” she said repeatedly.
“Let me go,” I growled.
Again, my pet entered. “Paige! No, baby. Let her go. She’s warning you. You better listen or you’re going to get bit.”
She abruptly dropped me and feeling thoroughly roughed up, I sailed from the room seeking my solitude elsewhere. Stopping in the shadows I assessed the living room, looking for a suitably high perch. I could hear my nemesis coming up fast, so I leapt upon the dusty blue couch and crossed to the far end, keeping a wary eye on the source of my greatest irritation. Good, I thought, she doesn’t see me.
Finally relaxing a bit, I stretched out, arching my back. Then tucking my paws beneath me, I settled down, comfortably gazing out the window with sleepy eyes at my favorite tree, usually teeming with birds. It was then I came face to face with a very slobbery canine, obviously a lot happier to see me then I was to see him. Horrified by his close proximity, I reared back, spitting and boxing at the glass. He seemed completely oblivious to my unmistakable loathing of that particular species. Figures. I considered dogs to be less than intelligent, and this one was proof positive. He happily jumped and barked loudly at the window as I continued to hiss, spit, and pummel the glass with de-clawed paws.
My pet came running into the room and to my rescue again. She plucked me from the back of the couch, held me close and cooed soothing words in my ear. “It’s okay, baby. He can’t hurt you from outside. Besides, he’d probably just try to lick you to death.” That’s what I was afraid of. I struggled against her hold.
My pet deposited me on the floor and I hit the ground running, tearing through the house, darting this way and that. Would I never find a peaceful spot in the entire house? I was beginning to think that was impossible.
Upon entering the kitchen, I was again assaulted by the younger of my companions. She pounced then sat back on her haunches ready to scrap as I took a defensive position. “Don’t you ever get tired of lurking about?” I hissed.
“Nope,” was her flippant reply. Then her tail twitched and she whipped around, dashing from the room.
I started to give chase but stopped in the doorway. “Brat,” I growled, as I watched her streak down the hall. She was more of a royal pain than a companion in my opinion. Then again, there really wasn’t anyone or anything that didn’t grate on my nerves these days. That is, except my own loyal pet. She was always different, genuine in her kindness and her touch was always soft. I purred, rubbing against the cabinets, marking my way back to my favorite spot, my screen door.
Crossing the threshold, I found that my nemesis had inadvertently aided me in my escape. Even better was the fact this had somehow escaped the notice of my pet. I crouched low to the floor and crept stealthily toward my target. Freedom. I was so close. If I could just get to the door before my pet did, I’d be home free. I heard my pet coming through the kitchen and quickly gauged the distance to the door. Deciding to take my chances, I sprang for the door, making long strides and achieving my escape in a matter of seconds.
Once outside, I crossed the yard and swiftly slid behind a bush. I could hear my pet scolding her young one for leaving the door open but for once, I harbored no ill will toward the creature. After all, she had helped me gain my freedom. I surveyed my surroundings from my vantage point, greedily sniffing the fresh air and squinting up at the sun’s rays that dappled the ground in front of me.
“Here kitty, kitty, kitty.” My pet’s voice grew louder as she approached. She called again and again but I shrank back deeper into the shadows, willing her not to see me. If she found me, she’d take me back to my prison again. After what seemed an eternity she started to move away. Peeking out and scanning the yard showed it to be empty for the moment so I hesitantly stepped out and crept over to the side of the house. I’d never been this far from the door. Sniffing the air yielded a strong canine odor that brought me up short. Ugh. Him again. I shuddered and turned the other direction, making my way around the other side to the front of the house.
Stopping under the family car, I took a look at my new home-place for the first time. It wasn’t bad. There were a lot of other home-places, all lined up neatly on either side of the road. And butterflies. I spotted a bright yellow one fluttering around some dandelions nearby. To a less practiced eye, I imagined it could have been missed, it blended so well. But I would never miss such an opportunity for sport. Crouching low, I silently put one paw in front of the other. Just a few more feet. I crouched lower, keeping a careful eye on my prey until I was close enough. As I bunched up my hind legs to pounce, my prize took flight and I sprang into the air. Rats!
I missed, but intent on my goal I kept jumping for it, and before I knew it I had strayed from the security of my own yard. The scent of a rival feline surrounded me. I came to a fence and sniffed the musky scent. I knew I shouldn’t be this far from my home-place but I wouldn’t stay long. I had every intention of returning, just not quite yet.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” This came from the fence above me. I looked up and saw my fluffy, black rival. “Don’t you think you should be in your home-place? An insider could easily get hurt out here,” he yowled, low and long.
“I’ll go back inside when I’m good and ready,” I growled back.
“Is that so? You’d do well to stay in your own yard.” The hair on his back bristled and his tail grew three times its normal size.
A black blur sprang from the top of the fence, landing a few feet from my position. My ears flattened against my head and I shrank back, hissing a warning. The cat advanced on me and we circled. I knew I shouldn’t have proceeded this far. As he attacked, I felt his teeth and claws puncture my flesh again and again. I screamed and attempted to fight him off but my lack of front claws made the blows ineffective. As I rolled to my back, I kicked out with my hind legs, connecting with his soft, fleshy underside. He screamed in response and backed off. I sprang to my feet and we circled. Again he attacked, biting and scratching as I did my best to fend off the assault. A mixed cloud of black and gray fur hovered in the air around us. There was no question about winning. At this point, I just wanted to go home. Home, would I ever get there? I didn’t know if I’d make it, could feel the weakness creeping into my muscles with each passing second. He was so much stronger, being an outsider.
I then heard my pet, as did my rival. The fight was over just as quickly as it had started. As he made himself scarce, I ran for my home-place. Rounding the corner of the porch, I saw the door to my prison-turned-refuge standing open. I raced through the open door, avoiding my pet’s hands, and didn’t stop until I reached my pet’s room.
I was shaken, my head ached and the numerous bites I’d sustained hurt badly. I gingerly licked at a particularly painful bite on my stomach but only succeeded in aggravating it further. I then inspected the room for any possible interruptions to my much needed nap. Finding none, I crossed the room to my pet’s vanity dresser rubbing against corners and laying claim to her bed, hope chest, and other various objects along the way. Having reached the dresser I gracefully leapt up on it and started kneading the thick, blue robe my pet had discarded earlier that morning.
Another crash had me spinning around, suddenly alert and ready for flight if necessary, but only my pet intruded upon my serenity this time. She came over to lovingly scratch behind my ears. “Hi pretty. Are you ok?” She checked me over briefly, assessing my condition. “Maybe you’ll stay in now. You just stay here and I’ll shut the door so you can rest.” She continued to pet me as I purred and turned my face this way and that. I felt the tension draining from my body with each stroke.
She then left the room, shutting the door behind her as promised. I yawned, stretched, and curled up on the robe. Knowing I wouldn’t be disturbed this time, and having found a semblance of solitude, I finally settled into tranquil sleep. “At last,” I purred, drifting off, “Peace.”