[ WP ] The thrill of the hunt , through the eyes of a housecat .

My ears perk up as the sound of the can opening stirs me from my slumber. 
 
 Ah, they are home. Again. Don ’ t they have anything better to do? I hope they don ’ t attempt to violate my underside again while I feast. 
 
 Prodding into the kitchen like I have better things to do, which I do, I see that I will be left in peace with my meal. Those tall, naked, gangly creatures that share my residence must have gone off to play with their light boxes. 
 
 I devour my meal in greedy gulps, the fish standing no chance of escape under my watchful eye and claw. 
 
 I ’ ve heard from cats who don ’ t have their own kingdom that their meals run from them and sometimes escape. I refuse to let this extreme indignity happen to me... yet I wonder... for I have yet to see it move. Perhaps it is simply waiting for me to not be paying attention... so I remain vigilant. 
 
 With my hunger satisfied I turn my attention back to the better things I have to do. 
 
 Slowly walking down the hallway, double checking that my kingdom is still secure, I take notice of a glimmering object sitting near the edge of that jumping platform. I make note to return later when the naked and clawless are around and knock it off. I keep showing them how it is done and they continue to fail so close to the edge... such pathetic beings. 
 
 I bet they have never even caught the tiny sun before. I ’ ve totally caught it, 2149 times to be exact, yet it always seems to melt away under my... oh god, it has returned. 
 
 The beast has returned, I can hear it coming to life, the slow methodic clicking of bones as it awakens. 
 
 Slinking my ears back to my head I glide down the hallway in total silence, negative silence even. I glide down the hallway so quietly that even if there was a... um... what are those stup… a dog barking around me my silence would absorb it. 
 
 I stop at the corner. I can hear mice in the walls completely oblivious to the danger that lurks in this room. I can ’ t expect them to stand up and fight this evil. I can hardly count on them to play tag these days… 
 
 Peering into the room I see the round eyed noisemakers are too lost in their light boxes to sense any danger. How have they survived this long? I mean just look at them, they are like floppy sacks of meat with no defense. Maybe that is why they subject themselves to such torture in the drowning chamber… 
 
 I digress. 
 
 Using the closer of the two living climbing posts I make my way onto the floating platform. One day I will figure out why I can float here any not anywhere else. My prey has no idea of my presence. It ’ s gazing off into the distance, it ’ s mono flat tusk protruding from it ’ s impenetrable slippery hide. I miss step onto one of those plastic things I like to chew and freeze, weary of the noise I ’ ve made. 
 
 It bellows it ’ s battle cry as it senses my presence and I pounce. 
 
 I immediately strike it where I know it will be most hurt, lodging my razor sharp death claws into the soft inner belly, pulling intestines out by the ream. 
 
 Just as quickly as it started it is over. I lick sweet victory from my paws while my underlings feast on the bounty of the kill, muttering something about “ picking it up off the floor. ” 
 
 I have provided for the peasants of my kingdom and now I must nap. 
 
 It has been a long day. 

