Guest Blog - Phoebe

It is dark when I wake up. The enormous, hairless, two-legged cats snore with open mouths and motionless bodies.

I am stealth.

I creep towards their odd looking faces and scratch the material on the bed frame. The female cat awakens and shouts which brings me great joy. The male cat stirs and mutters my name.

I sit beyond our bedroom door and wait. I give them ample time (five seconds) to put food in my bowl, yet they do nothing.

I return into the darkness, staying low to avoid the flailing movements of the large, male cat, but his left paw connects with my thigh.

A fluke.

I circle the bed on the hunt for flesh. I find a foot. A quick sniff tells me it belongs to the female.

My senses are phenomenal.

She is less likely to feed me at this time, but her yelp of pain is more likely to wake up the male, who will then feed me.

I attack.

She shouts the word my previous pet used to scream at me when I was patrolling the food room. I look over to the male who mumbles something unintelligible and rolls over.

Time for Plan B.

I head to the living room and annihilate my scratching post. It doesn’t know what hit it. Imbecile.

I move on to my tunnel, staying low and attacking before it has chance to react.

Suddenly, I am trapped inside, fighting for survival. After a well-fought duel, I come out victorious.

No surprise there.

I hear muffled large cat voices and the bedroom door slam shut. I’m now locked outside, but they’re going to have to do better than that to silence me.

I am about to take vengeance when the rotating bowl in the food room makes the sound that means food will appear. I leap over my destroyed foe, the tunnel, and approach my bowl in the food room.

Empty. The big fat male forgot to fill it again.

Now it’s personal.

Sticking close to the walls, I glide through the house and back to my bedroom door. I lean in and shred the wood with a ferocity that would make my ancestors proud. I hear the mattress move and the female speak.

The big, fat, male cat appears at the door. I dodge a foot as he passes me by.

I dip between his moving legs and cause him to lose his footing. He has terrible agility for such a large cat.

I once saw him try and climb up the wall in my garden, it took him 15 minutes and the wall is only slightly taller than him. He is pathetic.

He is also rude.

He walks straight past me even though I am sat in an adorable stance at my food bowl. He pauses at the sink and I rub my beautiful fur against his disgusting, dry leg. They enjoy that generally, but this time he doesn’t react.

He says something with his stupid mouth and goes to the toilet. He’ll be there for a while, so I head back to my bedroom to try my luck with the female.

Suddenly, I see a fly. How dare you enter my home without permission?

I am majestic in my attack and strike it down with a single swipe. The fly writhes around on the floor, begging for mercy. I toy with it for a few moments, passing it between my paws before leaving it to die in the dark, alone.

I begin to walk back towards my bedroom and stop in my tracks as I hear the toilet flush.

The big male cat is on the move.

I hop on to my food room worktop and purr as he approaches. Again, they love this.

He smiles and strokes his pink, pathetic hand across my cheek. I am transported into a state of ecstasy.

I catch myself enjoying the moment so bite his finger to re-establish dominance.

He shouts and opens up my food cupboard.

Finally.

He pours out a meagre portion of dry and wet food but since I’m nearing the point starvation, I act grateful.

He goes back to bed and I feast on my well-earned meal. I try to remember his technique for opening the food cupboard but am unable to make any sense of it.

I promise myself to not be overwhelmed by food next time and decipher the mystery.

I head back to our bedroom and curl up in my bed as the sun rises.

As I begin to plan my day, I fall into a deep sleep.

A Note From The Pet

Well, thanks for that Phoebe. Not exactly a blog but you did your best.

If you want stupid stories written by a cat or maybe something that will actually be of benefit to your business like a regular blog, website copy or social media content, get in touch with Phoebe’s pet, I mean owner, James.

Email me at james@writeocreative.co.uk for information on rates and how we can boost your online presence with well-crafted, SEO-friendly written content.