There is a critter gnawing into my skin just to the right of my tail and I can’t get to it with either of my back paws. Hold it! Hold ON, I’m scratching here! Darn neck tug. I’d like to sink my teeth into the ankle of the two-legged sicko who invented that thing they put around our necks. Then they lead us around like prized captors. It’s undignified.
Sure, there are times life with my two-legged is bearable. Like when he drags me into this big wooden box. It’s so big he stays in it too. And he lugs things in from the outside. Big things. Some that light up and talk. But, no, when I want to bring in one little stick it’s not allowed.
At least it’s warm in there. With fresh water. And he drops what is supposed to be ‘food’ into a container. Where does he find this so called ‘food’ the size of pebbles and so hard it hurts my nose when I grab at it with my teeth? I have to eat it. Otherwise I’d starve.
I have these dreams where I’m eating something soft and warm and odoriferous and gooey. And juicy. Always juicy.
There is something else that goes on, another thing not food related.
After the sun goes away my two-legged removes that stuff hanging off his body and, with skin exposed, he hops up onto a soft square, slips under a puffed-up thing that covers him and pats his hand. It’s a sign for me to leap up onto that contraption with him.
That’s when it gets weird. He rubs his hand all over me and digs his nails right behind my ears and, I’m a bit embarrassed to admit this, he leans his head close to my forehead and puckers up his mouth and makes a little sucking sound on my fur. Wait. It gets even stranger. He wants me to, umm, wants me to… lick his face. What can I do? I can’t run away and hide. He’s got me trapped in there. Nothing but barriers and the only way out is through an opening in one, that he controls.
Can’t get the taste of that two-legged salt off my tongue fast enough. I try to lick my own paws to get rid of it. Or bite into my fur. Sometimes I sneak to the cold, white water holder and, if it’s not covered, I lap up water from there. Takes away some of the gag.
Hmmm. That critter gnawing at me has taken a break. What relief! And my two-legged has stopped at a tree. This is where he expects me to pee on command. While he watches. You want pee? I’ll show you pee.
Ahhh. Feels good. Which brings me to another annoyance. I’d like to see two-legged try to hold his bodily functions for an entire night. Darn neck tug again. Wait until he sees what I have planned for the next tree…