Hey everyone! It’s me, Gatsby, the inmate cat. Here I am in the window, but can I ever go outside to see what’s what like a normal kitty? Noooo. I’m trapped in here forever, cuddled in a blanket like a baby, cooed at like some infant, when I’d really like to be prowling around killing things and stuff.
And it’s not some secret either. Nope. I make my desire for freedom known, often at 2am, by yowling loudly about it. I don’t expect anyone to read my mind. Mommy believes we have a tacit agreement of some sort in which she will feed me and keep me safe and warm, while I continue to be ferociously adorable. But when did I agree to this? I don’t recall signing anything.
Down the hall is another kitty, a gorgeous calico girl who gets to roam around, exploring the laundry room, mailbox area, parking lot, and garden out front. We could have such fun together if only I could escape from this prison.
Actually, I confess I did run out for a second last week when Mommy had her arms full of packages, but I got so scared I scampered right back in.
I’m gonna try again though cuz I’m a brave and fierce beast. RAWR! 🐯