Thursday 26 January 2012: Max's Scary Moment
I believe that if Max lived in a rural place, or if I had the option of letting him go outside, he'd be a really tough cat. He would bite the heads off rats, swallow mice whole, and snatch pigeons from the air in flight. Max would tackle the other boys in the alley and pound the snot out of them. He would argue politics with the possums and the raccoons would know better than to mess with him. Max would be the brawniest and handsomest fellow on the feline street.
But it so happens that Max seldom leaves my bedroom. For a long time he was banned from the rest of the house because he would harass one of the housemate's cats. He seems to be over that now, but after all this time he feels weird when he's off in the house. He just does a little exploring and then he wants to come back into the room. I doubt that he ever thinks of the world outside, which he last knew as a very small feral kitten. Max is six years old now, and he's the biggest cat in the house. Remarks about his weight have been known to happen.
Here is my boy Max, just when I was talking about some upcoming work I'll be doing. He misunderstood and thought I was suggesting he go out and get a job. He was speechless for several seconds and then he stammered,
"W-w-work? This is my work! I make your world a sweeter place. I am CUTE!"