I Knead, Therefore I Am

Here I am again.

Taking shelter in some bushes, all these rabbits giving me a hard time. Why do I always do it to myself? That lady gets home, puts the kibble in my bowl and all is copasetic. But every sunny day that door taunts me. Every sunny day I inch my way in the late afternoon towards that door and I can't help it. Before I know it I'm howling for the lady and if she's feeling gracious she'll let me go. If she's not I'll just bolt next time she opens it.

Really all I want to do is just to bathe in the beautiful sun, honestly; I can catch twice the rays when I'm out there. I throw the lady off by staying out on the sidewalk for so long that she gets comfortable with it and forgets to check on me. But right as I'm finally getting my fill I always catch sight of the daisies growing over in her garden and that's it. From there it's the butterflies - they lead me every which way but the way I want to go. And then I'll see something that needs to be stalked. I tell you there's a lifetime's worth of things to stalk out here - squirrels, bees, the wind - and once that cycle starts I just binge.

And of course, we cats are nocturnal. As soon as the sun goes down it's a whole new game. That's when the other cats come out and all the bets are on. Boy I wish I'd have found that one cat tonight, I might not feel so bad about being so lost. That gray punk cat with his punk ragged fur and his punk green eyes is gonna get a throttling when I find him again.

Tonight is just not my night. I bet the lady doesn't even notice or care that I'm away. Seriously, there's not even a stream around? No tuna? I lose my identity out here sometimes. But I know that I'll find my way back to the lady eventually. Some time tomorrow even. Some combination of sparrows, field mice and small children will inadvertently lead me back to her. For now, I'm just going to keep on these damn scoundrel rabbits.