Spider-Cat and Cat-Pool

Chapter 3

I don't know what's worse. Being jolted awake by alarms from the peace of sleep or being awake and having so much noise fill your head and then having one-hundred and fifty thousand pounds more dropped onto your head.

I'm pretty sure both are terrible and I hate them. I hate a lot of stuff right now.

As soon as the blaring hell of the alarms started, every animal was cowering in their cages and pressed as far back as possible. I didn't see why, until the doors were pushed open. Then I had reason to panic.

Humans with smaller cages in their hands came in. There were maybe five of them, but that was five that could choose me for whatever they were planning.

And the Purrker Luck strikes again.

Not even twenty-four hours of rest and I'm being dragged of to whatever purpose the humans have.

I was the first one to be 'caught'. SIngling out the new meat, I suppose. And then, there's the hand as large as my torso wrapping around my scruff and stuffing me into a smaller cage that is just as terrible as the others. Scratch that, its worse. There's a cloth in the cage that has the smell of urine of many, many other animals. It sucks.

Before I could attempt a risky escape doomed to fail, the door was latched shut and the carrier covered.

"Come on! What am I going to do, bend the bars with my tail?" I call to the top of the carrier. The carrier just jostled in return. I think that's supposed to tell me to shut up, but when have I ever listened to instructions?

All the time, every day.

So I break that habit because you never show your kidnappers respect.

I continually scratch the walls and bars. I don't even know why, I just want a response. And I get one, I suppose. The cage is shaken violently. I slam against the walls. I can feel the smug waves coming of the human.

Thankfully, the blanket doesn't completely muffle all sounds, so I can hear that the steps taken echoe a lot, and that there are a lot of them. I think that at one point we go up or down stairs, and then I hear doors open. They barely squeak, very well oiled, I catch myself thinking. Stop complimenting them!

And then, that sliver of time I had to plan my escape is wasted, gone, vanished into dust like my dreams. All that's left is emptiness.

The new cage door slams shut behind me as I nurse squashed ears. All I can hear after that is silence. These doors are glass, which small holes in them. You can barely put a finger through. Not that I don't try. Shame I can't shove this glass off a table, would solve so many problems...

I sigh. The least I can do to try and survive is to get a good night's sleep.