Running Scaredy Cat

​Life on the run is hard. I don’t know what we’re running from or why, but after all these years with my people, I’m in pretty deep. I’d rather cut off my whiskers than let them do it alone. They need me.
 
Our first family escape happened only a year after my adoption. I got the feeling my people had done it before. Our home was emptied and abandoned. I knew we must be running from something awful and that I had to grow up and adapt. I tried to imagine what was chasing us.
 
I still wonder what's stalking us. Could be the law. Or a dog. Maybe a lady wearing high heels. I get pretty scared thinking about anything worse. So many things scare me. After seven years and as many houses, not to mention all those hotel rooms, I’m pretty sure this isn’t going to end soon.
 
But, I’m almost eight. If you do the catmatics, I’m not a kitten. I’m as old as my people. Maybe older! They treat me like a tiny baby kitten, but I've endured the life of a fugitive and now I must step up and face whatever darkness is chasing us. The time has come. I’m the big kitty now!
 
I’m sharpening my senses and quickening my reflexes. No more napping. I have to practice my crouching and running. I need to visualize the monster while I peer around a corner, wiggle my back legs, and POUNCE! I need to eat more crunchy food to strengthen my teeth so I can bite. Food also builds muscles for wrestling. I sit at the window and I watch. I’m ready.
 
But the sun feels so warm and it makes me sleepy. And what good is a sleep-deprived attack cat? No good at all. My people need me to be well-rested and fresh. Just a small cat nap and I'll be ready.

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