I Am Being Held a Prisoner in My House!

slice of lifeHelp!  I have been locked up and am being held a prisoner in my own house.  I am in a confined space with only metal bars to see through.  How did this happen?  What are they doing to me?

Things were fine this morning.  I woke up, stretched, went to get a bite to eat and something to drink.  All was right with the world.  I decided to jump up on the windowsill and see what was happening in the outside world.  Suddenly my human picks me up and starts carrying me toward this blue cavernous object with a metal front.  He is putting me in and closing the front.  What’s going on?  What is he doing?  why am I being treated this way?

I feel the thing I am in being picked up and carried out to the car.  This can only mean one thing.  I am going to that place.  I don’t want to go.  I have been a good girl.  I haven’t scratched the furniture or anything.  The car starts and we begin to move.  For forth minutes I try to convince my humans to turn around and take me home.  They don’t listen.

We arrive at that place and I am taken to a room.  A woman comes in .  No, I am not getting on that thing.  Don’t you know that it is not polite to ask a lady her weight.  What do you mean I have gained a few pounds since last year?  I have not.  I want you to know that I just haven’t shed my winter coat yet, so of course it weighs heavier.

Now a lady in a white coat enters.  Get your hands out of my ears.  Stick your hand in my mouth and I will bite.  Hey, that thing is cold.  Get it away from me.  Now what?  What are you doing?  You’re going to stick that where?  No you don’t.  Ah!!!  The indignity of it all.

What else can they possible do to me?  Oh, no.  Get those sharp things away from me.  If you jab me I will show you something sharp.  Ow!  one in each hip.  Finally they are done.  I eagerly get back into my blue prison.

My humans take me back out to the car and we head home.  Just wait.  Revenge will be mine.  That new furniture they got will make a perfect scratching post.  I’ll show them.  I will not allow them the privilege of rubbing my chin or scratching behind my ears.  I will not purr for them.

Home at last.  Now what is he doing.  Get your hand away from me.  I will not succumb to your petting.  Oh, yes.  There, that’s the spot.  It feels so good.  Maybe I’ll ignore them later.

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3 Comments

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3 responses to “I Am Being Held a Prisoner in My House!

  1. This was so much fun to read, because we have brought our cats to the vet so many times. The cry the whole way and are quiet the whole way home. I also loved the weight part. But who really likes that part of the visit..not me. xo

  2. This was wonderful – you so “got” the voice of your pooch – down to that last quick change of mind!

  3. Absolutely engaging! I was about to head to bed (I’m sooo tired) but thought I’d stop in for a quick read to see what you were up to, and I’m so glad I did. Now I’ll sleep with a smile remembering this post. VERY enjoyable reading tonight, thank you!

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