Horrors and hells
Many wretched things have occurred to me of late, and I am certain that Lump, that hairy, foul-breathed beast, is behind all this.
First, I received a penal pedicure following my ‘assault’ on Weeza. Seriously, all kinds of uproarious outcry over a few teensy scratches on her head… I don’t get these humans. Lump gets away with murder, and I was only trying to entice the Weeza to play. At any rate, Lump mocked me shamelessly whilst I was incarcerated in a towel having my fingernails cut to mere nubbins. She is vile.
Also this week: my food molded (probably due to some toxic compound in The Beast’s saliva). The bathtub drain regurgitates filthy water, which then fails to drain, rendering the Two-Leggeds and Lump unable to bathe and thus stinging my nostrils with their wretched stink. The Speeding Oven had a dead battery, which meant that the Two-Leggeds failed to take The Beast to the dog park for several days running. And finally, the Two-Leggeds created human-size possum replicas to wear for Halloween, triggering flashbacks of the invasion and leading to my diagnosis of PTSD.
I just couldn’t take it anymore. I bided my time and looked for an opportunity. I seized the chance this weekend, when Mama left the front door ajar a moment longer than was wise. I looked left, then right… Then in a flash I darted through the narrow opening to the beckoning bliss of the outdoors. Alas, I was so overcome by the joyous sensations of my first freedom in six weeks – the brilliance of the sunshine, the crisp scent of fall, the gentle breeze upon my whiskers – that I tarried a moment too long. I was, without ceremony, snatched up from behind and thrown with all the care one might give a sack of garbage, back into the house, where I managed a halfhearted swipe at The Beast before skulking off beneath the bed.
Those humans best keep an eye on that dog, though. I’ve shown merely a taste of my vast repertoire of capabilities.
-d
