My morning jog proceeded as usual.
The thick fog saturated the air and blurred my vision and the freezing morning chill nipped at my genitals, but boy did it feel great to be outside, anyway.
I took in every scent I could. Wet tree bark. Somebody was having a good breakfast. Exhaust from the morning rush hour of vehicles off to god knows where. From the fluids of freshly cut grass all the way down to the very pesticides and fertilizers that made them so artificially moist and alive.
Something seemed off, though. It grew stronger. What was that god-awful smell? Why did it so thoroughly plague my nostrils? The very mixture of chemical gases made me incensed! Perhaps it must have been my own indistinct morning thoughts, clouding me from remembering that putrid stink. Or maybe a general case of the Mondays? What day was it? Thursday? That sheer musk nauseated my senses, to the point where my eyes were almost burning.
But then it was no matter. A field of fear and nausea surrounded me as I approached my favorite spot in the whole park. As my distance shortened, the strength of the aroma increased drastically.
Reality hit me like a brick of steel flying at peak momentum; some b***h-a** cat urinated all over my favorite ******** tree.
My heart shattered.
Oh, belligerent vandal! How thou hast soiled my dignity!
I could feel distressed whimpers escaping my throat.
What in the sacred purity of mother nature could have allowed this despicable deed go fourth unpunished?
Unpunished, I knew, because I could still smell the raunchy little b*****d running about close by. I was outraged, but blind adrenaline never does good when one decides to take a more tactful approach at revenge.
Thus, I edged myself away from that foul tree, nearly in gooey tears. I curled myself into a more appealing place, where I could collect myself despite this life-changing tragedy. I situated myself near a trash receptacle; someone had just thrown away a perfectly good egg Mcmuffin and my intense craving for breakfast was getting the better of me. Curled tightly in a more pensive composure, I began to clean my thickly padded feet and the skin between them. Then, not wanting to waist much time, I quickly moved on to my genitals.
Now that I had been reverted back to my stunningly good hygiene, I began to ponder the method to that cat's madness.
Why would he want to piss on my tree? What was his deal? Did he not understand that I had been there first? That I had spent many a morning curled next to the thick roots just enjoying the fruits of the simple life?
He must have been watching me for a while now. No foul feline beast would have ever dared to taint the territory of someone so much more domineering in strength and cunning, unless he were pissing me off intentionally. Or could there be an even deeper truth? That it were a trap? That the whole urinating on my tree speal to anger me greatly, was all just an enormous distraction from a whole new dastardly escapade?
That must have been it!
Oh no! No clever calico would ever get that sort of rise out of me. I simply would not allow it. So I resolved to go straight to the source. I'd find the insensitive criminal before any more damage could be done and set him straight. I rose out of my pensive state and took off in search of the foul beast. I sped through dewy bushes and silky wet grasses as the intensity of his trail grew. I was certain now more than ever, that I was very close to achieving my vengeance.
And there he was! Pawing at items in a rotten dumpster just a few yards away.
Glossy calico spots blotched his milky coat. Rather impressive for a stray.
However, I would not let his dashing good looks distract me now.
I ventured toward him, and his suspicious activities in his dumpster, and I was oblivious as to what to expect. Regardless, I remained confident. Adrenaline excited all six of my nipples. It was time to resolve this nasty vendetta between two natural rivals. I must take another victory in the name of all of my comrades world wide! This deed would be resolved! The time to speak out against this villainy was now! I lowered my jaw from its entanglement of nasty snarls to speak and blood and salt rushed to every tiny vein in my eyes thus PIERCING them, with EVERY OUNCE OF ANGER AND SORROW THAT EVER EXISTED IN THE ABUSED BLOOD OF MY ANCESTRY AND THEN I SHOUTED IN ECHOING MADNESS
Startled, he lost his balance from atop mounds of garbage and descended onto the concrete below. Those golden eyes flashed with malice, and then realization, confusion! And then! Sheer terror? So quickly?
Like a businessmen 10 minutes late for a board meeting, he scampered off at the speed of sound.
My ears folded downward in disappointment. Should I chase him? I turned in the opposite direction to catch another glimpse at the speeding calico. WAIT., THE b*****d!, THIS WASN'T OVER! HE'S HEADING BACK TO MY TREE!
I folded my ears back and took off like a bullet immersed in lightning. The chase became apparent and the cat raced towards my tree, and miraculously I fell behind! He dove fishlike into a crafty maze of thick roots beneath the tree, out of my field of vision. When I caught up, I began inspecting the foreground and roots. Fool! He neglected one of the most basic principles of committing a felony; you can run, but you can't hide!
As I made my path around the tree, the smell of cat pervaded my nose 10 fold! And indecently, so did the ungodly smell of piss. Just what was he up to?
I peered into the final crevice of my beloved oak. I heard a malevolent hiss erupting from the hole. Aha! As I prepared my paws for digging out the felon, the hissing was suddenly paired with...confused meauwling? Several meauws at the same time? Immature mind games! Out with you! I pawed at the ground until a sizable hole spilled light into the crevice exposing the treacherous tree pisser.
..And several new born kittens.
I doubled over in my own ignorance. I thought that cat piss smelled effeminate. unfortunately, my better judgment must have been blocked away by high levels of testosterone.
I sobered up my attitude and glanced long fully at my tree and then back at the family of cats, suckling at their exhausted and angered mother. Oh, benevolent caretakers of the earth, it seems that you have been blessed with a new litter of life. And who am I, but a lowly underling? What authority have I to take it all way? And our new mother here, Feeds her sons and daughters her rancid milk concocted from garbage!
As an apology for stumbling in and disturbing the nursing mother calico, I trotted back to my thinking spot, the trash receptacle. I jumped on my stout hind legs and pushed over the basket to retrieve the bitten-in-to egg McMuffin and delivered it to the mother. Though not the best of meals, it easily surpassed raw garbage on the grounds of sustenance. I hoped that it would provide a more nurturing batch of milk for the babies and serve as more energy for the mother. As I inched my way back out of the crevice, I took one last look at my tree.
Today would be a secret, from my ancestors but not from nature. For benevolence shall never be a disgrace in the eyes of the very force that fortifies our planet with life and beauty. Adieu, cat. I hope that my tree shelters you well.
Still nostalgic over my tree, I headed towards one of my favorite bushes instead.
This too was drenched in bodily fluids. But it was an entirely different matter;
off-spring or not, this was squirrel piss.
I was off.
In Terms of Flamingos
· Sun Jan 17, 2010 @ 05:40am · 1 Comments