Cat's Eye

I'm not sure when it began, but I know exactly when I realized that something was off. My favorite lounging rug vanished one day, leaving me with nothing more than the cold, hard floor. Looking back, there were signs - boxes appearing, furniture disappearing - but The Humans are prone to such oddities, and I chalked it up to such. But now, my rug was gone. And everything was being yanked out from under me, like napping on a warm pile of laundry, only to have your human pull a shirt from the stack.

Fluffy salutations to all who are here to hear of my sad tail. It began as such:

The day after my rug disappeared, Mother came and bothered me. She picked me up, ugh, and then shoved me in The Box. Double ugh. The Box is small, has strange netting over the side, and periodically moves. Whenever I am again let out of The Box, my surroundings have changed. I hate The Box. I scream a lot when I am in The Box, but so far it has garnered me no sympathy.
This time The Box spit me out at The Vet, where they told me I was a good, pretty kitty, but I wasn't falling for it. She still stabbed me with something sharp.

The next week I was once again mercilessly shoved into The Box. My cries fell on deaf ears, and I feared I was once more headed back to The Vet. But instead, I ended up somewhere familiar. My old domain, where the Grandhumans reside.
I was not allowed full roam of my old domain, and it smelled of CATS. A betrayal, to be sure, but I did not see any other cats. Besides, I cannot stay mad at the Grandhumans, and was... well I was going to say excited, but, my new year's resolution is to not be overzealous with familial feelings.
For three days did I lounge about, awaiting... something, I'm not sure what. The other claw to drop? This all felt as though it was temporary, and not just because of the rather low-quality litter box situation (seriously, how long would I have to continue under these conditions??). The Humans seemed stressed, so I slept on the foot of their bed. To reassure them, obviously. I myself wasn't worried, necessarily. I guess.

For indeed, shortly thereafter the morning came where I was once again shoved in The Box. I knew it! They were up to something!
But this is where my memory becomes... hazy. I'm sure The Humans laced my kibble with something, those fiends.

The hours passed, the world moved, then stopped, then moved, then stopped for a long while. I lost track of time and space. The air was warm, my surroundings dark, but as I came too it became lighter and suddenly cold. The air smelled fresh, but strange, and after half an eternity of being sloshed about in The Box, it opened.

I usually leap with grace and ease from The Box. And I would like to tell you this time was no different. But curse those Humans, whatever drug they'd given me was still in my system, and I stumbled out slowly. Who knows where they'd dropped me, and in the state I found myself lagging, what if I needed to defend myself? I quickly found a hiding spot and surveyed the new landscape of this strange new room as I regained my razor sharp senses.

The Humans shuffled about for a little bit before discussing the word "breakfast", (breakfast?? why was it light outside? it should have been midnight!) and left me alone in the room to recover. I slowly explored, finding it to be quite the small room indeed, and found that they'd set up my litter facilities and food. Perhaps they weren't entirely incompetent. When they returned, they slept - I'd since learned what I'd initially hid under was a bed - and I once again climbed up with them to be a Reassuring Presence. I wouldn't normally do this, you understand, this was pure generosity on my part.

We all slept, the daylight and nighttime seemed reversed, and within hours I was in that stupid Box again. Whisked away once more, bobbling about as Mother carried my Box, then set on the ground where I could hear many, many people. Sometimes the ground was moving, sometimes my Box was being carried, and on this went for some hours before finally....

I was home.

Or, what I would learn was New Home.

My storied life has taught me that humans pick New Homes every so often. My kittenhood began in Small Home, where I had access to the Outside (supervised, for I myself was Small). Then to the Grandhumans domain, where I also could also go Outside (supervised again, for The Humans still not trust me even though I was then Big). Next came what will henceforth be referred to as Old Home, with no access to Outside. And now, we begin anew again, at New Home.

I don't know how long this will be New Home, but it has been long enough that I feel... settled. The Humans seem more settled, too. I've been able to stop sleeping on the bed with them, thank goodness (Father hasn't ever seemed to grasp that I simply must sleep on his side of the bed, and it's terribly inconvenient of him to stretch out).

The entertainment here has been mixed. I am not nearly as high up as Old Home, where I would gaze down from the 3rd story upon the lowly Humans and dogs of the world. Here I sit at an alarming ground level, where many people walk by and mill about. I even saw a CAT in MY yard one day, but my piercing, steely-eyed squint sent him packing. But there is something grand about how large the window and sill are.

I suppose in many regards, my life has not changed so much. Though my food is no longer "ah-to-matic", so I am at the whim of The Human's remembering me, lest I need to go remind them with my Saddest Meows. I am used to them forcing new food upon me every each whiles, so even though the flavors of my kibbles have changed, this is typical, and it is satiating. Tasty, even, as I haven't had to turn my nose up to any of it yet.
They have also put out two separate water bowls for me, silly Humans, when I keep showing them that I am self-sufficient enough to just drink from the shower puddle after The Humans get themselves wet for the day. They don't seem to grasp how superior the puddle water is.
I've also discerned the oddities behind the litter facilities having changed, for it was a "travel litter box" all along, such a primitive thing. The Humans tell me sweet lies about a mythical, premium metal litter box that is "on its way", but it "got delivered to the wrong house", and they are now waiting on a "new one". Hmmph. A likely story. But if it is true, I hope some other cat is enjoying their new, premium litter box. Hmmph!

There have also been no visitors since arriving at New Home. And... well, I suppose I shouldn't be saying this, but you've caught me in a good mood. So I'll admit it. I do enjoy a good visitor now and again. I miss the nice lady Marion, who smelled of other cat but also smelled of Friend, that would look after me when The Humans were gone several days (I hope they find a good person for me to People Sit when they're away). Old Home had many friends who would visit. And I, perhaps not-so-secretly, did particularly like them.
At least sometimes I do hear the voices of the Grandhumans coming from The Device, and I hope they know I am flicking my tail in acknowledgement.

P.S. Don't take this as me being lonely or anything of the sort, but maybe The Humans are lonely, who knows. So maybe you could... drop by and check on them? Purely for their sake, not mine. I haven't gone soft or anything.

Affectionately & Fluffily My Own,