The Cheezits: Colby and Cheddar: mancat

Saturday, January 3, 2009

Colby's lament

I killed a bird today.

You would think the beans would be proud of me.

I'm not even a full mancat, and I killed it all by myself!

I Houdini'ed my way out of my collar and snuck right up on it.

The little bird was eating some fruit that the littlest bean spilled and Mom put out on the grass so it wouldn't go to waste.

It didn't even hear me coming.

It was furry quick--I didn't play with it or nuthin'.

And I started meowing, so they would all come and see what a good hunter I'd been.

The littlest bean heard me, and when he came I showed him where the little bird was.

They should be proud of me!

So...why is efurryone actin' so sad around here?

Who Are Dese Orangey Kittehs, Anyway?

Once, we were just two scared little kittens, clinging to our mother. We must have been very poor, because we weren't very clean or healthy and we had (this is so embarrassing) worms and stuff. We lived day-to-day, and we both remember being very hungry, all the time.

It seemed like we were barely old enough to walk when we were taken away from our mother and brought to a strange place, with lots of other cats (and big scary dogs!). We didn't know why, or what we had done. This place became known to us only as the Shelter.

So, there we were: at the Shelter, in a cage, cuddled together, keeping our spirits up and waiting for a chance to escape, not knowing what else to do, when a surprising new face came to see us.

She smiled at us, and looked us over without poking her fingers in our faces. She made sure our itchy ears were cleaned and those embarrassing worms were taken care of. And she didn't put us back into the cage.

Instead, she took us to a new, totally different place. A place where we have lots of food to eat and fresh water to drink. A place where there's always clean litter. Where there are toys to chase and soft places to sleep.

And we learned a new word.

That word is, "Home."

We are Colby and Cheddar. And this is our story.