Singed Synapses and Deranged Dendrites

Chase (#chase)

Like a game of cat and mouse, I love the thrill of a chase. Don't judge us. Ours is a special relationship, unique...but then isn't everybody's?

The sun goes down. My love sits in the living room. The kitchen door sits ajar on this hot summer evening. An unexpected opportunity has presented itself. I am prisoner here you see even though I love my master. I slip out the door unnoticed. But not for long. 

Within minutes my master is beside himself with fury...and worry. I love making him feel that way. Mixed emotions delight me.  My fickle nature is one reason why this 'arrangement' works so well for me. That and I'm lazy. I like to have a master who fusses over me. In return I toy with his emotions. And he takes it.

And I enjoy inflicting physical pain too sometimes. 

It's always relatively good-natured though. I don't mean to make him bleed when we play. And he loves to play with me. It's worth the pain he suffers. Don't worry, I never bite as hard as I could. He wouldn't come back for more if he didn't like it. Right?

Now I'm free in the night air. My heart pounds. The thrill consumes me. He's outside now. I've been missed already. He coaxes me lovingly at first, trying to draw me out from the shadows in which I hide. But lovingly isn't enough for me. I need to wait until he goes through all of the emotions. I strive for the whole rollercoaster ride. 

I sprint across the yard and disappear in the shadows. I'm fast than he is. He's an older man. I'm young and lithe and cute. That's why he can't resist me. That's why he spoils me. That's why he loves me. 

He's getting frustrated now. Good. Ha! He might lock me in the bedroom for a week for this little transgression. I'll trash it if he does. Rip it apart. And get out to because I'm good at escaping. Like Houdini. He can't keep me locked away any better than he can hate me for long.

The anger is waning. I can see he is getting worried. It's fully dark now. He's lost track of me in the night. Perhaps someone else has run off with me. Perhaps I'm lost and will never be found. He is near tears. He cares for me more than that alcoholic mother of his. He'd cry more if I died. 

I'm getting bored with this game.

I sauntered out of my hiding place like we had planned this late night tete-a-tete all along. I lie down at his feet, roll on my back and stretch. He picks me up and I purr. 

"Bad kitty," he says and carries me inside.