Fur on Bones

The bird on the tree looked delicious, if only I could jump that high. Alas, all I could do was sit in my spot, staring and licking my lips, seeing my prey. The world was silent, only the rustling of leaves and the chirp of birds making their way back to their nests could be heard. Nightfall was enveloping the homes of the humans, and I was sitting in my presently lonely den. Soon would come those rude little scamps, who would always greet me with sticks and stones. They were annoying, to say the least, and the last time they visited me, they left me with cuts around my sides. The fur had still not grown back, and I didn't wish to repeat that. There were eight of the little bastards, but the last time I had seen them , there had only been six. For all I knew, today all eight would descend upon me and skin me alive. If I could, I would have hunted each and every last one of them down, and would have given them a taste of their own medicine. Its a sad thing my kind didn't have opposable thumbs. Then I could have wacked them all with the sticks and stones they so kindly give me. Perhaps I should change homes instead. There were always other places where these furless, bipedal beasts gathered around. I would never understand why these archaic 'humans' stayed together. It seemed a nightmare, with their 'families' and 'friendships'. Then again, this place was good for food, even if I had to eat the pain of a rock on my skin here and there. Maybe today, when the little children came, I would scratch them all. That should teach those brats a lesson.

I would have to take a shit, I knew. My stomach was gurgling like a dying bird. I walked to my usual spot, and dug my hole. I had to only dig a little to unearth a massive hole. It was filled with all the scrap that I could not eat, and any waste I had ejected. I hadn't actually dug it, in truth. It was dug by a man who fed me almost everyday. He always brought me meat with a smile on his face, and he would throw the bones left over into the hole. He always made sure to cover the bones well, and honestly, I respected him for taking the environment into such consideration. I remembered my mother telling me, that we covered our waste because we had to keep our abodes clean, and to make sure predators didn't find us out. I don't remember much about my mother, recalling once in a blue moon a memory of her. Her lessons had stuck with me though, ranging from how to always land on your feet, to which parts of a mouse were best to eat. Sometimes, I would have dreams of her, blurry though they were, with her standing and sitting and laying, majestic and wise. Atleast, that's how I imagined her. In truth, any images I conjured up on how she looked were mostly my imagination at play. I never remembered how I was separated from her, and even the memories I possessed gave nothing in the way of how she actually looked.

I had done my deed, while I reminisced on blurry thoughts. I covered the brown stuff, sweeping dirt onto it. The dirt also covered the bones left by the man, most of them kept in dark black bags. Once I was content with my shit being completely buried, I strode my way back to my den, below a metal roof. Here, every day, the humans would leave black bags full of food, mixed with other items. Every morning a man would come to take away the food, but I would usually scavenge some foodstuffs before he arrived. I wondered if there would be anything of interest in the bins that night, but I ended up deciding against looking, citing my complete tiredness at the moment. Maybe tomorrow, I would get up early and find something from the haul to eat. I wonder if I am stealing from anyone, eating this food. Surely the man coming every morning must be taking it to someone who wanted the food.

I propped myself next to the wall, and curled into a circle, beginning to doze off. The sky was filled with the bright streetlights. I wonder how any human had ever reached so high, to set up those bright lights. I had seen some metal birds, bigger versions of the metal beasts the humans went in, and travelled in. The sky was illuminated most by the biggest bulb, near the middle of the sky, which changed shapes every day. Today, it was like a half-circle, brightening the nooks and crannies of the world below, and leaving shadows in it's wake. As I stared at the bright lights, my eyes stirred to a close, atleast they were beginning to do so, before I fell a stinging pain in my side.

The rock rested a foot away from me, while it's owner stood tall about a yard away. The boy was sniggering his ass off, accompanied by all his companions. I jumped up, trying to escape, but found the wall hindering me from doing so, with two bullies standing on either side of me, with the rock-thrower right in front of me. Perhaps if I made a run for it, I may be able to make an escape, though it seemed pretty unlikely, reviewing my situation. Usually, the brats would only hurt me a little, and would leave after, sniggering and feeling mighty proud of themselves. If I could bear the pain of a rock here and there, it would be better for me to stay here, and let them have their way.

The child who had thrown the stone began speaking gibberish to my ears, "Oh, kitty-cat, you aren't gonna scamper off? I thought you furry bastards were meant to be cowards. I suppose it isn't very brave of you anyway, to stand there and stare." He had four other friends with him, and one of them piped up, "Jimmy, I don't think we should be roaming around so late. Brian is still missing." The brat with the rock turned back and replied, "And so is Stuart, and the one whose name I already forgot. Most likely they are sniggering right now, thinking that some hide-and-seek game is still going on, and that they have the best spots ever. Now, when did you become my mom?" "I'm just saying, it's dangerous." "Eh, don't care. I wonder if this furry bastard was the one who did it in for Brian and Stuart. Eh, he's too much of a coward for that, aren't you now?" The boy faced me, "I wonder what you would say if you could speak. Surely, you would be begging for mercy. Perhaps I should give you some mercy. Here's what we will do. I'll tell Peter there to move away. You get to make a break for it." I understood nothing of what the boy was saying, but I saw him point to my right, and then the boy he was pointing to stepped aside. Almost in instinct, I made a break for it, but was quickly stopped with another rock, this one hitting my back. My legs gave way under me, and the boy who had thrown it walked towards me, "Tsk, tsk. I gave you a chance. Not my mistake that you failed...." As the boy spoke, a footstep could be heard from behind him. The man who fed me meat had arrived. All the boys scattered, each running their own way, clearly scared as an adult was near them. The man grimaced, an ugly expression, scaring the boys even more.

The man walked to me, with a bag in his hand. He spoke something, "What happened, child? Those brats acting up? They really are no-good scamps. I will deal with them. Here, you must be starving." With those ununderstandable words, and a pat on my head, the man set down the bag he was carrying, with meat inside it. The aroma wafted into my nose, but before feasting, I licked my wounds, pushing through the stinging pain enveloping me. I finally began eating, while the man just stared, a warm smile on his countenance. As I ate, I stopped for a moment to lick the man's hand, and the man instinctively reacted by running his fingers through my fur, scratching me here and there. I brought my head down, such that his hand was completely enveloped between my cheek and shoulder, as I lost myself in his warm touch, the smell of blood wafting through the air. He scratched my neck, his fingers running through my grey fur. After he was done, I returned to my meat, finishing it, leaving only the bone. The man picked up the bag again, scooping up all the bones, and walked to his hole. I followed him, with the night breeze running through the air, with the aroma of blood flowing away with it. When I reached the hole, I dug out a little of the soil, but stopped when I saw the man pick up a shovel. With the big semi-circular streetlight in the sky illuminating his shade, the man dug out his hole, and left the bag in the ground, putting the unearthed dirt back onto the crevice. The man finally kneeled down one last time, patting and scratching my head, "I'll deal with those little brats. Tomorrow, I will find some way to heal that little mark they left on you." Saying so, the man left, going back to his home in the huge buildings. I was left in my den, alone and licking my wounds, as the aroma of blood in the air left with the man. I slept, curling again into a circle, this time wary of wayward bullies.

I woke while the countless lights in the sky still shined, disturbed by some faraway noises. I could hear sobbing, a sonorous yet whispery thing, as if it was both far away and also right in my ear. I remembered a tale I had heard from somewhere or the other, about how humans believed that their dead were brought back to this earth, as otherworldly creatures. I wonder if these creatures were the once making these inhuman sounds, of weeping and grieving for some past life. I glanced around, trying to spot the source of the tears, and soon found my target. It was a woman, dressed in the colour of the night sky, so much so that you would be forgiven for thinking that there was no-one there, so dark was her ethereal gown. All that could be heard in the darkness were her sobs, tinged with grief and mourning, perhaps for some younger life, now long gone. I was not the only one who heard the sobs, though. Soon enough, came a man in blue, entranced by the tears. He approached the dark figure, and took her by the shoulder. Holding her hand, he guided her into the building, and out of my gaze, but the sobs didn't stop. Even when my eyes stirred to a close, I could still hear the ethereal cry, as heartbreaking as it was endless.

The morning was glorious, but it's glory was lost on me, as the clamour of the man who came to take away the bins of food woke me from comfortable slumber. I scowled vehemently, which only succeeded in making the man laugh. He spoke, as he moved the bins, "Kitty, what are you doing awake so early? Did I wake you up. I'm sorry." Saying so, the man moved forward to pat my head, but I instinctively edged away. The reacted with a little tinge of sadness, "You're jumpy, aren't you? Oh well. If I find any leftover food in the garbage, I'll give it to ya. You'll like that, won't you?" I walked away, indifferent to whatever gibberish the man was saying. I walked to the hole I used to bury my droppings. I did my deed, once I unearthed my spot, and then I began covering it again with the dirt. The man removing the bins noticed me, and walked towards me, "What do you have there? Oh, yeah, I remember reading somewhere that you cats bury your shit. I should take that out, off to the disposal. Wouldn't want the pricks in this here society to call me due to the smell, and why, you should have a spick and span house." The man walked toward my hole, and noticed the shovel set nearby. He took it up, "I'll wash this here shovel once I'm done, and the owner won't even know this was gone." Saying so, the man began digging, and soon his shovel dug through to the bigger hole, dug by the man with the meat. When he had gotten a look into the hole, the man gasped, with a ghastly expression on his face. The man left running, dropping the shovel and screaming gibberish.

Everything happened so fast, but I saw it all. The men in blue, with gold on their chests came soon enough, with the man who took away the bins following behind them. He pointed them towards the hole, and the men in blue were all over the place soon enough. An odd hour later, the man who brought me meat was escorted down, his hands held by a man in blue. I will not lie, I was slightly jealous seeing the man, who took care of me so well, holding someone else's hands. Soon enough, half the residents were down, spread out here and there. The sobbing figure from last night was there too, still grieving her loss, along with two other woman, who were collectively screaming their lungs out, clawing at their cheek skin and at the man who was being taken away. Finally, the procession of humans left, clamorous and ear-splitting. As the man who fed me so much left my gaze, I began to ponder how I would find food today. Surely the man will return soon enough, hopefully not holding on to that good-for-nothing man in blue. Then I would get all the pats I want, and all the meat I will ever need. But to think the man will return today itself was folly, seeing that the humans took a awful long time away on their business. As I began to stir back to sleep, I wondered why the world was so unfair, taking away the people I love. A bird sat on the tree right in front of me, and I wondered if I could perhaps jump that high, and snatch me a snack before I snagged myself some snores.