Wessie and Madame De

Last night I was once again reminded of my life as a free cat.
The evening was dull as usual, so I’d curled up in my box for a long nap. The smells of summertime failed to interest me, as I knew that the fragrant grasses would never touch my paws and that the chirping birds would never feel my claws.

Ah…2 years locked in a house have left me quite a mellow man.
My nap was going quite delightfully when the back door slammed. I twitched my ear, mildly annoyed by the noise. My overprotective “mother” had returned from one of her outdoor escapades. In a few moments, I’d be showered with her annoying kisses and tight hugs. Her footsteps tapped up the stairs and through the kitchen. I braced myself for her affections.


My ears perked up when I heard their voices.


Just as she got close enough to spot my fuzzy orange cuteness, I detected a vile smell in the air. It was different than the household’s stench of broccoli and garlic. The smell was something repulsive, something that made my spine tingle with rage. I smelled cat.

Suddenly, the humans were darting around the home, speaking in loud voices. I snuggled deeper into my box, knowing that any invader would be intimidated by my cool and powerful demeanor. My hair rose at the noise of a little female kitten meowing.


I’m usually not one for cats, but her voice was, admittedly, quite lovely. Any cat in distress is a cat who might need my help. I didn’t know what was within my powers to do about the situation nor what unfortunate event had befallen her.

Not wanting to destroy my aura of cool distaste, I continued to sit in my box.

Minutes passed. The only sounds which issued from the bathroom were human murmurs and the occasional quiet meow. I’m sure that the cat was well aware of my presence and thought me quite debonair.

Suddenly, I was torn out of my box by the arms and carried across the house. When I was finally tossed to the floor, I was face to face with a growling, hissing, screeching black and white cat. Her green eyes glowed with rage and terror.


Put me down! Put me down! Put me down this instant!


My tail puffed up as I crawled into the corner. This woman frightened me.

“Why are you so afraid?” I asked, attempting to look manly and brave.

“I took a walk away from my home but couldn’t find my way back. I’ve lived a harsh life in the park, but nothing as bad as what happened today. These dreadful humans carried me over streets I’ve never seen. They took me in their arms past barking dogs, noisy cars, and children on bicycles.”


Mallory and Madame De



I merely hissed and walked away. There was nothing that I could do to help this lady, but her tale reminded me of one of the darker parts of my illustrious past.

As a young cat, I disappeared from home for 3 days and 4 nights. Away from food, water, shelter, and of course my darling human family. Life was very hard. Some cats believe that they would enjoy a life free from people, roaming the streets with no one to stop them. Without a home, a cat could be truly free.

But I wasn’t free when I was gone from home. I wasn’t free from thirst, hunger, or violent other cats. I was trapped in a harsh, frightening world.

Though I despise my life of captivity in this confounded house and would give anything to just walk in the dewy grass (well, maybe not dewy), being cared for is a blessing that I sometimes forget to appreciate.
Tonight, I think I’m going to snuggle up close to my “adopted mommy”, and give her a lick on the cheek even though she badgers me so.
Without her and her family, I’d be another scruffy, sad cat on the street being brought into strange homes by strange people.

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