Four: I Put on the Act

I figured if I was ever to have a chance at my version of affluence, I would have to play "dumb" for a while - that is to say, I would have to be a cuddly kitty in order to make any advances in my master plot.

So play dumb I did, and I readily ate out of Sea Eyes' hand despite instinctual red flags. She seemed quite elated at this, and the next day she tried to stroke the top of my head. I simply must confess that this is the route most animal control dolts take down the back of the head and towards the throat to slide some infernal object of restraint around one's neck. I even surprised myself by reacting on such a small scale as a simple hair-raise. Sea Eyes seemed on the verge of spontaneous combustion, so great was her excitement at this point.

But me being a cat, there is a low to zero tolerance for spontaneous combustion due to emotional overload. I cut short our meeting for the day. I could only imagine how much Sea Eyes would pick up the pace with bringing our affiliation to the next level in lieu of this novel development. By now I reasoned that level-ups were a good thing, so what did I care? The faster to my fantasy, the better.

Little did I know (and that doesn't happen very often), I would come to regret letting this escalate, because of some various human practices. But that story is for another day.

Three: An Evil Plan

You'd probably think that all cats have an insidious, self-serving master plan, but let's face it - most of the house cats that you interact with have brains that are too clogged with fat that they are ostensibly incapable of any cognitive endeavor. However, amongst any experienced stray, this is ordinarily the case. Such as I, for example. Whether the goal is the cozy life, or your next meal, you have to have a plan in order to survive. This is the law of brain and claw. All smart cats know this, and this is why when you try to feed a forlorn-looking stray kitty in a feeble attempt at planting the seed of companionship, you somehow feel used and pawn-like after the cat eats and then scrams, or in especially genius and cruel cases, eats and comes back, and then scrams after a week or so of such a routine. The simple truth is this: us cats? We're heartbreakers. Furry, cuddly, cutesy heartbreakers. And that is the way it'll always be, whether it's a stray running away after a new relationship, or your long-time pet putting itself before you in a situation, cats will break your heart. The only fool in these interactions is the human who thinks their cat loves them profusely, and will never leave their side, for better or worse. Please - your cat loves you because everyone knows not to bite the hand that feeds it. You give your cat food, warmth, protection, health care, fuzzy toys, and your undying love. Who wants to give that up?

And Sea Eyes is the same way. Only I won't run away. I will squeeze all the room and board I can get out of this thing, and when I do I'll be the cat every other stray looks up to, a regular city girl. And all the guys down in the alley will say, "hey, isn't that Kaiten? Boy, she definitely knows how to work those big, stupid bozos."

It may not be much for a peak of an existence, but hey - every sinister plan has to end somewhere.

Two: A New Opportunity

This wonderful one-sided relationship between me and the girl continued. I grew weary of referring to her in my head as "girl", so despite my better judgment, I gave her something resembling a name. This girl had big, dark blue eyes, and dark brown, almost black hair that went a little below her chin. She wasn't skinny or fat, but was of average weight for a human. The look of most humans' eyes when they see me is either disgust at a pest or eager to capture a "cuddly" prize; her eyes bore a look of kindness, almost respect. I suppose that it was this look in her eye that possessed me to keep returning to her. So she was no longer "girl", but "Sea Eyes".

Our routine, of sorts, was this: I would drop by around midday, and there Sea Eyes would be, waiting with a can of tuna or some chicken scraps to place on the floor in front of me - from a distance. And every day when she placed the food down, her hand would linger longer and longer. One day, for whatever odd reason, she would not put the food down. Her hand just hovered above the ground with the food in it. Past experience told me that foolishly taking the food led to capture and cages. No way was I going to let it happen again, especially in the hand of a girl, Sea Eyes or not. So I just sat there, waiting for her to put the food down. I'd already eaten a small snack that morning, so I could sit out this game of chicken as long as I wanted - I was only here for the food. Finally relenting after about two silent minutes of this, she placed the can down and resumed her usual spectator's position in the window. That's the deal with humans: you just have to show them who's boss. Of course, humans always rebel against their boundaries, thinking they're the boss. My philosophy? Ignorance is bliss.

And the next day, Sea Eyes did the same. We had another round of playing chicken, which ended up with me taking a couple of steps closer to her hand, and sitting down, waiting for my baited hook to jerk. Seeming smug, she put the food down. Too bad all cats are mutinous in the end until they go soft for the cushy life. Pretty soon, they can hardly walk, those fatties. I will never forego my ability to flee for the temporary apeasement of my tastebuds. She didn't really win. Humans are so funny, thinking cats are lesser than them. And yet, they will do just about anything for them. I admire those who have mastered the art of conquering humans, the ones who get a soft bed but outside access, the healthy, rich ones. And that thought sparked an idea: maybe Sea Eyes was my key to the high life. Yeah - the concept was so simple. Simply feign submission, she'll let me have access to her room, and then the house, and then it'll be a mere hop, skip, and a jump from my dream life. Cats are so cruel, using humans as servants, and yet humans take such joy in indulging their every need. Where's the injustice in that?

One: A New Face

I am most definitely and assuredly NOT a people cat. Unfortunately for me, little girls are almost always kitty people. Usually when most girls bring a cat home, their sensible parents don't let them keep it. However, some little girls have rich, doting parents, who care about nothing except their "little angel"'s instant gratification. It's pathetic, really. Parents who let their kids walk all over them let the kids become completly dependent on the parent at the same time. If every human had half the sense cats do, the world would be so much better for me - but they're not. This is the manner in which my freedom met its demise.

Dang. I missed my chance to make my rounds around the neighborhood, searching for scraps before the garbage men made theirs. I'd have to get close to humans if I wanted to eat that day. After a long time of searching and dodging stupid pint-sized girls, I spotted a discarded can of tuna fish and mayo...up a couple of levels on the fire escape. It's a good thing I know how to jump and climb up ladders. Yum. It was worth the effort. You have to enjoy those moments, because it's not every day a cat like me gets a meal like that. But I guess that tricksy tuna must have impaired my judgement, because I decided to take a bit of a nap after that big climb. Little did my tuna-drugged self know at the time that I chose to nap right under the windowsill of a bedroom window, to be later occupied. I guess you never really can have your cake and eat it too.

When I woke up, I was staring into the eyes of...another girl. A teenager, but a girl nonetheless. She did nothing. I stood stock-still, tensing for the runaway leap, but the girl made mo move to grab me. Interesting. Homosapiens typically have this annoying misconception that small animals love to be held and cuddled until the point of strangulation. I walked away, wary of this too-good-to-be-true encounter.

The next day, I found another can in the same spot. Too tempting to resist, I indulged. And so began the relationship between me and a human, of all things. Who knows - maybe I'm a people cat after all.