From Feral to Tame

I watch my human as the giant machine comes to a halt. Jesus Christ, is this over yet? I hate car rides and my belly feels like it was spliced open. My sense of being must have escaped through my stomach because I feel fucking weird. My human lifts open the giant machine door. I look through the silver bars and smell the scent of hay, manure, honeysuckles, and the other familiar smells I have grown accustomed to in the past year. I am home!

My human pinches the buttons on the outside of what appears to be a giant bathroom box cage (At least that is what I have been calling it since I have pooped in it twice and cannot seem to find a way out of it on my own) and opens the door. Freedom! Normally, I would run straight to my secret loft but running is out of the question right now. I am sore. I walk slowly onto the grass and look around. Everything is the same, but everything feels so different. I just need a nap. My paws slowly move me through the grass to the muddy brown barn. Man, this hurt. What did those humans do to me?  

The cluster of six hens stand to the right of the barn doors. “Hey Zorro! We missed ya!” says Stacy the leader of the Chinese Silkies. They missed me? I thought when I dropped a headless Nuthatch on their coop entrance, I made it clear that I did not want their friendship. Don’t they know I will be eating their kind in less than an hour (covered in gravy with rice out of a can). “Uh. H-hi, ladies.” I respond awkwardly and keep walking towards my loft.

This is when things really start to get weird. Now normally, I am a fucked up individual. When I arrived at Aurora Farm a year ago, I was fresh meat. I got my ass beat by a different cat every night. I had to start fighting back. I learned from my survival instincts how to be the strongest, toughest, meanest cat on the farm. Here I am. Zorro the crazy one nobody messes with. I have a chunk missing out of my left ear from a fight with a rabid raccoon (rest in peace, Edward). I have the best sleep spot in the barn. I sleep with a different feline every night. I am king.

As I am walking the dusty aisle of the barn, I hear a laughter that makes the fur on my back go stiff. “Zorro, did you lose something?” Michael scoffs as his overly large orange body lays stretched out on a haybale. He looks up at me and connects eyes. He never does that. Michael is the oldest cat on the farm. He is the only one allowed to sleep in the human house. He knows things and I need information.

“I-I don’t know. I feel like something is missing ya know? You ain’t scared to talk to me? See that’s strange.” I anxiously said to him. The weird thing is before I got sent away, I would have hissed if he even looked in my direction. Now I kind of want to lay next to him on the hay and fall asleep to his soft purr.

“Look at your belly, kid.” Michael says this as he casually bathes himself in a sunbeam. I look down and notice a patch of fur missing and a perfect line of stitching. Like if I ate a rat’s liver and then tried to hide the evidence. What did those humans do? Did they eat my liver? “They took away your manhood. Trust me. It’s for the best. You were getting out of control. You even tried to bite your favorite human.”

Aah, yes. I remember that. I feel a wave of guilt pass through me and this feels new too. Gah, I will make it up to her. My manhood though! How will they make this up to me? I cannot make it out here without my manhood. I will not survive!

I slink up to the infamous haybale loft. As I walk past the never-ending rectangular stacks of alfalfa, I begin to drool thinking about my sleep routine. First, I will rub my face and body in my stash of Nepeta Cataria (humans call this Catnip). Then, I will eat a giant bowl of Whisker Lickins’ topped with chicken and rice gravy. Finally, I will sleep. I can almost feel the comfort of my Thermo-Kitty Bed Deluxe my human got me for a day she calls, “Christmas.” Almost there--

*Crunch, crunch, crunch* “Oh. Hiya, Zorro. We weren’t sure if you were coming back. We just really like your set-up here. Don’t worry. We brought our own beds. It’s like a tent city now!” *Crunch, crunch, crunch* Mother fucking Chi. Chi has the bluest of blue eyes, a perfect light gray coat, and he is so damn likeable. I hate him. Or at least I did. I am not sure how I feel right now. “I got you the liver crunchies! Welcome home, buddy.” Next to Chi’s bowl was a mountain high plate of Liver Whisker Lickins’ topped with extra gravy. My five feline lovers: Peeta, Cali, Nala, Annie, and (I cannot remember the name of the fifth one) are also here. I usually would rather drop dead nine times than have them hanging around my secret chill zone. Something feels different though. They all look at me and smile. Nala passes me her Nepeta Cataria stuffed plushy mouse. Ooh, it has a bell inside of it too. I rub my face against it, and we all begin to laugh just because. This feels like friends. I have never had one of those before that was not my human. I don’t hate it. I also do not feel the sudden urge to reproduce with the ladies. It is kind of freeing.

After eating my feast, I stretch my body onto my bed. I close my eyes and listen to the sounds of the purrs from the other cats who up until today, I have barely spoken a few words to. This is kind of nice. I feel… safe. Maybe the days of Zorro the loner are over.