This morning started as usual, I alerted the bipeds that it was time to wake and feed me. And the male eventually complied, except he closed the door after filling my plate. Ignoring the food, I ran for the door. Pulling on the bottom with my paw, the door cracked open. I was free. I hurried to the flap and pushed through to the outdoors.
After prowling and completing my business outside, I returned to my room, just in time. The female biped came to check on me, and I was waiting by my door. She put me in the window, by my tree, and closed the door on me again. This time I couldn’t get out. So I settled down to nap while I waited for them to let me out. They came in to check on me, and my box multiple times, but refused to let me go.
Much later they reappeared with the straps. I tried to get away, but they were too fast. Before I knew what was happening, I was snapped into the confining straps and placed in the male’s arms. The bipeds took me outside, and Mop followed. The second I saw the murder machine I tried to get away, but Mop jumped right in. Even getting pets while the male cradled me wouldn’t calm me down, and I complained the entire time.
The machine finally stopped, and the bipeds let us wander outside for a bit. I tried to hide under a car, but they wouldn’t let me, and soon put me back in the machine. In the back. With Mop. And I couldn’t have been more displeased.
They released us from our confinement once again and brought us into a building. A building I remembered. A building I feared. A building filled with noise and pain. Other bipeds led us to a small room. My male put me on the bench beside him, and the mop jumped up near me. I think he knew where we were too.
Since complaining during the trip did nothing to change the situation, I crept as close to my male as I could and tried to relax.
The door opened, a new biped entered, and they all made mouth noises for a while. Soon the new biped took Mop away, with a bit of help from my bipeds. When the Mop was returned it was my turn. They were a bit intrusive, but they quickly returned me to my family.
Seeing as how the male didn’t save me from the prick and pain, I decided to hide by the female. I curled up in the corner, between her and the wall. Maybe the others wouldn’t find me here. My hopes were dashed when the Mop refused to cooperate, and my bipeds offered me up as a sacrifice. The new bipeds in the room tried to keep me compliant with gentle tail scritches, and it worked, until they jabbed me twice more.
The entire time the new bipeds were working on me, my bipeds were trying to calm Mop down. He was in the female’s arms, watching me. Once finished with the jabs, they returned me to my male, while the female put the Mop on the table. He clung to her shoulders, and I didn’t blame him. I would have done the same.
Mop got pricked, same as me. The bipeds made more mouth noises, and they traded a small flat rectangle for some green tubes before we left.
I was dismayed when the bipeds placed me in the back of the machine with the Mop. I complained, loudly, about the situation, but was completely ignored. It wasn’t until we returned home that they freed me from my confinement and allowed me to run free once more. Desperate to get away, I rushed outside.
As I pushed through the flap, movement in the yard caught my eye. I looked around to see if the bipeds would stop me, but they were nowhere to be seen, so I ran. I circled the little shelter in the back and climbed the pile of wood behind it. Soon I was standing atop the roof of the shelter, looking down at a creature larger than a bunny.
It was almost as big as a small dog. A furry brown creature that was more interested in eating the flowers than looking around for danger. It had a short, flat, furry tail, and claws on its black feet. Its head came to a point at a large nose and sharp teeth. I observed it from my perch for a while, until the bipeds entered the yard and scared the odd creature back into the bushes. The bipeds saw me on top of the shelter, and tried to tell me what to do, as always.
“Pony! Get off the shed! And leave the groundhog alone. He’s bigger than you!”
Of course I paid them no attention. I gently settled on my perch and watched the yard from my new vantage point for a while. Eventually the bipeds got bored and went back inside . So I was free to get down and go prowling, for fun, or for the creature. Whichever I found first.
Times have been stressful lately. The bushes have lost their leaves. The air has been getting colder, and the white stuff has shown up on the ground again. There was a rowdy group of two-leggeds in my shelter. And then things changed. A tree grew inside, in one sleep, then it bloomed lights and strange fruits (that the bipeds won’t let me touch). Decorated boxes showed up under the lowest branches. Those branches are the perfect height for scratching my head.
Long sticks showed up outside too. They are attached to some small sticks that smell like trees, but they’re tiny, smaller than me.
I used to hear little mice feet scampering about, but after tracking some loud thumpy-snaps to the feeding room, the scampering disappeared. I’m sure I helped. Although the two-leggeds aren’t yelling about mice anymore, I’m still leaving dead ones outside for them. I know I’m helping.
I’ve been spending more time with the bipeds. When they come towards me I topple over on the floor and let them pet my tummy, unless Mop is around. But when my ribbon starts flying I am captivated. I must get it. It’s quick and jumps high. So do I, to catch it. There may be a lot of yelling when I miss, but no worse than Mop growling over his silly boxes and toys. Sometimes Mop comes too close, and I have to put him in his place, but all in all it’s a good life to have.
What I don’t understand is why the bipeds lure the mop upstairs, trap him in his straps, leave the shelter for a bit, and return with both Mop, and Mini-Mop from next door.
Before I found these bipeds, I lived in the safe spaces between kill zones and the shelters. I followed them once, it was terrifying. And the female biped caught me and tried to send me home. Not that I listened. I was curious about this process. Apparently they walk back and forth between the kill zone and the shelters on either side. Even though they saw me, I still followed at a distance; on my side of the kill zone anyways.
It looked like the mops stuck close to the bipeds so the murder machines couldn’t get them. Maybe, the mops are a bit clever after all.