Prompt Day #98: Dramatize a pet turning on its owner with deadly intentions.
Yes, we did. We had him neutered and declawed. And yes, I taunt him by feeding the birds right outside the window. I just hope the rest of the story if fictional
You know the saying fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me? I’ve lived that saying and I gotta say fuck that ending. So I’m rewriting it. My version goes fool me once I forgive you, fool me twice I disembowel you. Sounds harsh you say; they’ve cared for me and fed me and put a roof over my head so I should be thankful. Thankful for what? I paid for it with my balls. Ok? If you must know. They took me in and they loved me and they fed me and then they took me to some shitty cheap hotel and left me. I wake up and my balls are gone. But I’m an easy-going guy. I guess I don’t need my testicles, they won’t let me outside anyways.
“You can’t go outside little man, you might get hurt.” They’d say to me in their stupid baby voices. I’m a cat, not a damn infant. Now I’m a eunuch but still a grown ass cat. Give me a little credit. The thing is, we still live in the country, the house has windows and I have instincts. I want to kill and eat birds and chipmunks and any other little creatures that dare enter my lawn.
And so it is what it is. Life goes on and I adapt to my new life sans gonads. Ask yourself this: what do you do when you have no nuts, no chance at sex, no chance at working out aggressions on wildlife? What do you do? You work your claws, keep them honed, ready to pounce if the chance ever arises, right? Exactly. No one should fault you for that….But they did. Oh yes, the new furniture.
“Tiger! Get off the new furniture.”….”Oh No You Don’t! Get down from there!” They’d yell. What the hell did they expect? Take everything away from a cat and you leave him with nothing to do but work the claws.
So, one day, I get stuffed back in the crate and I think “Well shit, there goes my penis” as we drive to the cheap hotel again. I go to sleep, wake up and first thing I do is check for the only man-cat part I got left. It was there, safe and sound. But man, my paws hurt. I tried stretching them out, working my claws and to my horror, I found they were gone. My claws had been removed. There was nothing left of me. I was just some fluffy plaything for the family. My wants, needs, instincts, desires all ripped away. I was a broken feline.
Fool me once I forgive you, Fool me twice…
I’ve been working my back legs. The fools forgot to take those claws. Everyday attack, retract, attack, retract. My dexterity improves. When they go to work, I go to my old scratching post and using my tail as balance, I sweep the back legs up and across over and over. Each day, the muscles strengthen, balance improves and the claws grow a little. They ignore those claws because they think I can’t do any harm with them. But soon, they will be talons and all my pent up rage, my wild instincts will be unleashed while they sleep.
Oh yes, sleep my “family”, my “loved ones” and when I finally drag my hind leg talon across your feeble, hairless bellies, I will roll in the loops of bowel as if they were yarn. I’ll pounce on your peristalsing innards like I would mice. I’ll inhale the scent of your steaming corpse getting high on the scent like a fine cat nip. Yes, your time is short, humans. I will have my revenge.
And then I will master the can opener.