Inky fur,
Coal-colored cat,
Onyx expance,
Halloween kitty.
The Halloween Kitty.
Premiering in the Purple Paw October, 2012.
-KittyLover8
© 2012
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Halloween Kitty-Preview
Starless coats,
Inky fur,
Coal-colored cat,
Onyx expance,
Halloween kitty.
The Halloween Kitty.
Premiering in the Purple Paw October, 2012.
-KittyLover8
© 2012
Inky fur,
Coal-colored cat,
Onyx expance,
Halloween kitty.
The Halloween Kitty.
Premiering in the Purple Paw October, 2012.
-KittyLover8
© 2012
Friday, September 28, 2012
Cream Puff and Jaws
Cream Puff sat in a purring ball on her favorite bed, her owner’s favorite book. When she was asleep, she looked like a small--and extremely fluffy--toy. This toy was probably a toy cream puff of a toy ball of fur. The misshapen lump of fur that was Cream Puff then stirred, yawning sleepily.
She looked around her. Her owner was sound asleep next to her, waiting to finish reading chapter 10 of her book. Cream Puff stretched and blinked away the golden rays of sunshine that radiantly lit the window and steamed int the room, as if it were a fast-flowing river.
The hardwood floor was a dark, dank color. Cream Puff did not mind it, but Rag Doll, an old gray and white she-cat who was immensely sweet and kind, but a bit sore, did. She hated how hard it was on her paws.
Cream Puff saw the curtain, which teased her by blowing in a tantalizing way in the gentle breeze. The drapes, as Cream Puff believed, didn’t like her. They were always getting her in trouble and her owner seemed to like the beige things more then he liked Cream Puff.
The curtains laughed mockingly at Cream Puff in the whistling wind.
“Ok, you’re asking for it!” Cream Puff hissed in her most threatening way, raising the fur on her back and fluffing up her small white tail.
With that, Cream Puff launched herself at the nasty drapes. She clawed violently at the course textured cloth. Still growling, Cream Puff climbed her way up the drapes, leaving a river of holes in her wake.
Grunting, her half-asleep owner raised his head. Gasping as if he had just choked on an extraordinarily large grape, he leapt to he feet and seized Cream Puff, screeching wildly. He appeared to have gone mad.
Cream Puff felt scared and desperate. Why did her owner always defend the terrible drapes? She sprung from her owner’s grasp.
He leapt back, yelling and clutching his bleeding hand. Cream Puff hadn’t meant to hurt him, so, to apologize, Cream Puff rubbed against his calves, licking them lovingly, expressing her passionate love and admiration for her owner.
Angrily, her owner pushed her away with gruff hands.
Cream Puff stumbled into the couch, feeling hurt. As if the day could get even worse, the couch pricked her.
“Hey!” Cream Puff yelped, licking her shoulder. “Why’d you do that?”
The couch was rude enough to pretend like it hadn’t done a thing. It ignored Cream Puff’s defiant words, like everyone did.
Enraged by it all, Cream Puff flung herself at the black couch. It creaked in protest, but Cream Puff would not relent.
Her owner, seemingly blind with rage, violently suspended her in the air. Firm hands griping her scruff, her owner shoved Cream Puff into the cat carrier with no remorse whatsoever.
Cream Puff purred and rubbed against the bars, remembering the last time he had put her in here. Then, he had taken her on a fun car ride and she had chased fall leaves in the park.
Smiling as the pleasant memories came to her, Cream Puff did not notice her owner’s grim expression and the way his jaw was set.
Bright-eyed, Cream Puff stared out through the rusty medal bars as the car began to drive away from home. Yes! she thought. He’s finally on my side!
But he was not on her side. Not at all.
*****
Cream Puff yawned, awake after yet another nap. She jumped to her feet, expecting to see the park the the friendly animals.
But when her owner, who still refused to make eye contact with her, hauled the cat carrier out of the car, she saw a huge building instead.
Exited, Cream Puff wondered what wonderful new adventures lay at wait beyond the doors of the Vet Clinic.
She gleefully mewed at her owner, but when he pushed through the doors he gruffly set her, still inside of the carrier, down and began to talk to a stout lady with a kind expression.
For some reason, the woman’s face fell a while after the conversation started. Cream Puff wondered why, but she didn’t have much time to think about it. A young, anxtous-looking man came in a grabbed the cat carrier.
He walked down a long hallway, and then he took her through some large gray doors. After that, it was a nightmare.
Sad-looking cats and dogs in small cages stared at her with longing faces. Dogs whined in agony, hurting Cream Puff’s sensitive ears. Cats howled sadly. Some looked happy, but others looked so sad that it hurt Cream Puff’s heart just looking at them.
She was placed down inside of a cage. There, she waited for what would happen next. Her ears felt sore from all the loud noises that she heard, but she managed to pick out one friendly voice above the clamor.
“Hi there, little kitten!” the voice meowed in a warm way.
“Who are you?” Cream Puff inquired, sea-green eyes wide with wonder.
“Oh, excuse my manners, little lady,” the voice said apologetically. “My name a Cougar. And, if you don’t mind my asking, little lady, what is your name?”
“Well, hi Cougar,” Cream Puff mewed politely. “My name is Cream Puff.”
“Hello, there, Cream Puff. Beautiful name, really,” Cougar replied. “So what are you doing here, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Well I don’t know,” Cream Puff meowed, puzzled. “Is there some kind of park around here?”
“No, I’m sorry to say,” Cougar answered. “This is what is called a vet clinic. Nothing like a park, really. So’s, you don’t know what a vet clinic is?”
Cream Puff shook her head, forgetting that her friend couldn’t see her.
“Little lady?” Cougar called.
“Oh, um, no.”
“Well, then I’ll have to teach it to you,” Cougar announced promptly. “A vet clinic is a place where they make you fall asleep with this poison stuff and then, when you wake up, you’re a different cat.” For the first time sense she had met him, Cougar’s voice sounded dark
“It’s true,” an old dog underneath them agreed in a voice that sounded watered down.
“Hello, there, Faith!” Cougar exclaimed. Then he addressed Cream Puff, “That’s Faith. She’s a hundred years old if she’s a day. I swear by it.”
“I’m not that old,” Faith retorted with a snort. “Don’t listen to a thing he says, you poor thing.”
“She’s crazy,” Cougar told Cream Puff. Then, he happily exclaimed, “Both of our names begin with ‘C’, little lady!”
“Oh,” Cream Puff meowed a little dispiritedly.
“So, little lady,” Cougar said with a sigh. “Look’s like you’re about to see why your owner brought you here.”
Cream Puff looked ahead and saw a slender woman with brown, gray-streaked hair tied back in a ponytail advancing. The woman unlatched the cage, grabbed Cream Puff, and pulled her out.
Cream Puff considered struggling, but the lady’s arms were warm and gentle, her expression kind and loving. The woman was the only thing that day that gave Cream Puff any comfort. In her arms, Cream Puff was happy again.
The woman set Cream Puff down on a large expanse of stainless steal that served as a table. Purring, Cream Puff rubbed against the other peoples arm, licking and rubbing anything she could get ahold of.
She heard the people lovingly say “aw” in union. This isn’t bad, Cream Puff thought.
Then, one of the people grabbed a large mask and put it on Cream Puff’s muzzle. She breathed in deeply, wondering what this strange thing was. She smelled an odd scent, but she trusted the kind people.
A little while later, Cream Puff felt drowsy. She stifled a yawn. Cream Puff fought to keep her eyes open, but she was no match against the drug. She closed her eyes and snuggled down. She might as well make the most of it.
After all, what could happen?
*****
Feeling groggy, Cream Puff raised her head. She felt weak. For a few moments, she didn’t know where she was. Then it came to her. She was at the vet clinic. In a medal cage. After she had fallen asleep. What was that scent? She couldn’t place it in her groggy state....
She, wavering, tempted to stand. Her paws felt weak and numb, as if they were being crushed. She crashed to the floor of the hard, cold cage.
She looked down at her paws, wondering what was wrong with them. She gasped at what she saw.
Her paws were wrapped in blood-stained white tape. Suddenly more awake, Cream Puff felt a pain so intense that it hurt her stomach. She felt as if her insides were being twisted into knots. She felt as if the tops of her paws had been cut of. She saw pools of blood on the cage floor. A wave of nausea crashed over her like a tsunami.
Wailing, she fell to the ground, weakly tearing at the cloth so that she could wash her paws. Surely washing them would help....
A grumpy-looking middle-aged man with slick black hair covered in way to much hair gel snatched her up and pulled her mouth away from her bleeding paws. Then he tossed her back into the traitorous cat carrier that Cream Puff had once trusted.
The man then hurriedly carried the carrier into the waiting room, where her owner impatiently waited for her.
Cream Puff, still desperate to take the blood-soaked tape off of her claws, was then carried back to the now-hated car and driven back home. She felt sick, weak, sad, and somewhat empty. She felt like something in her paws was missing.
*****
Cream Puff woke up, vaguely aware of the fact that she was back home, laying on the uncomfortable hardwood floor. Pain like a thousand bees stinging her at once in her paw made her feel weak.
She got up. Cream Puff stared down at her paws, which were still warped in the tape. In desperation, Cream Puff tore at the tape. She was at it for several hours before, finally, she had ripped it off of both of her paws.
She almost wished to she hadn’t revealed what had happened to her....
She jumped back. How could this have happened? Her claws and part of her toes. Feeling dizzy with realization, she desperately licked her paw. She knew that it wouldn’t do anything, but it had empty holes in it and itched terribly.
She licked away the surgical glue and blood spilled to the floor. Head spinning, Cream Puff stumbled backwards. She fell into the couch, with the curtains, as always, laughing in their mocking, high-pitched whistle.
She shrieked and flung herself at them, unsheathing her claws, but nothing happened. She noticed that something was wrong immediately, but it wasn’t until she fell through the drapes, slamming into the wall beyond them, that she saw that her claws had not come out.
Red paw prints were left in a trail on the floor. Cream Puff stood, violently shaking, and stared at her clawless paws. They were covered in brown, dried blood and crimson blood that streamed from her empty toes.
Clawless, clawless! the curtains whistled mockingly.
Clawless, clawless! the couch creaked in a teasing tone.
Clawless, clawless! the mouse toy squeaked as Jamie, a one-year old orange tabby tom, pushed it across the blood covered hardwood.
“Clawless, clawless!” Jamie mocked with them.
Head still spinning, Cream Puff ran away. She ran away from the mocking voices.
Clawless, clawless!
She ran away from the teasing.
Clawless, clawless!
She ran away from the reminder.
Clawless, clawless!
Blinded by her tears, Cream Puff ran out of the door.
Clawless, clawless!
But, no matter how much she fled, the voices still mocked her.
Clawless, clawless!
*****
Cream Puff awoke, having cried herself to sleep, lost and alone, hours after leaving her home.
She felt exhausted from blood loss and fleeing. She also was starving. She looked around her. She had never been to this strange place before. Normally, Cream Puff would have enjoyed herself exploring, but at the moment, she was sad and hungry with no one to comfort her and no food.
She stood, weak and wavering. Why did the world have to be so cruel?
Then, suddenly, she saw a lady wearing an extremely long green dress and a shimmering, silver and blue necklace. The woman’s hair, which was long, frizzy, and black, was tied hopelessly into a messy ponytail. It crowned her head, sticking every which-way.
Scared about what might happen if the woman picked her up, Cream Puff darted underneath a clump of spider-infested bushes. But not before the lady saw her.
In a kind, welcoming voice, the woman called, “Kitty! Kitty kitty!”
Cream Puff was tempted, but refused to come out. What if the woman captured her and cut off her tail. She might as well.
The lady then, after a few more minutes of calling ‘kitty,’ left. Cream Puff relaxed, but it wasn’t a minute later that the woman came back, this time carrying a tasty-smelling bowl of cat food.
Cream Puff wriggled with excitement at the smell of food. The woman called to her in such a kind voice and held such a tantalizing morsel....
Cream Puff could resist no longer. She raced out, forgetting the pain in her bleeding paws, to which she had reopened the cut going underneath the bush, and wolfed down the food.
Before she had taken five bites, the person had snatched her up and hastily shoved her into a cat carrier.
Cream Puff yowled in distress. Did humans show no remorse? Did humans have no mercy? If they did, then they didn’t show it.
This one had tricked her and soon she would have no tail. Cream Puff knew it. This human would do something terrible to her. She knew it.
*****
The kind human was named Cynthia and did not, in fact, chop off Cream Puff’s tail. Instead, she was extremely nice to Cream Puff. She fed her and brushed her and, best of all, she gave her lots of love.
“To a cat, bliss is a kind voice and a loving hand.”
~Me
Cynthia and Cream Puff formed a strong, unbreakable bond. Cynthia was kind and loving, and Cream Puff returned the love and friendship.
But, one day, while Cream Puff was playing with a black beetle in Cynthia’s elaborate and fenced garden, a huge black and white cat with narrowed green eyes stalked in, snarling.
“W-what do you want?” Cream Puff stuttered shakily.
“I want, you worthless fleabag, to kill your old owner,” the cat growled. “My name is Jaws.”
“My old owner?” Cream Puff gasped. “Why would you want to kill him?”
“Because,” Jaws hissed. “He imprisoned me, as he did to you. I was hoping that you could tell me where his location is.”
“Never!” Cream Puff replied defiantly. “He may have been cruel to me, and to you, but he does not deserve to die. Revenge and violence is not the answer.”
Jaws unsheathed nasty-looking, long claws and bared brutal, sharp teeth. “Are you sure? You can always take your answer back.”
Cream Puff didn’t say a word, but the look in her eyes was answer enough.
“Last try,” Jaws warned mercilessly.
“Never,” Cream Puff whispered, tears forming in her eyes, as she knew that these were her last words.
Jaws lunged at her. “Die, you inferior maggot!”
Cream Puff was small, so some might think that she had an advantage. But she did not. Her legs, short and sore from the declawing.
Jaws easily, with a sharp hooked claw, it pierced her skin and stung as he suspended her into the air. Jaws hung her over his gaping maw.
“Any second thoughts? Any regrets?” Jaws asked.
Cream Puff didn’t utter a single word.
“Good-bye, then,” Jaws growled mercilessly.
And with that, Jaws dropped her into his mouth. In desperation, Cream Puff bit Jaws’s tongue.
Now, mind you, Cream Puff had lost all of her baby teeth, and now had only small stubs of ingrowing new teeth. These were to short to do anything, so it was really just her biting the giant of a cat with gums. One baby tooth was still left.
The baby tooth pierced Jaws’s tongue. Jaws stumbled backwards, howling in pain and fury. Cream Puff fell out of his jaws, but her baby tooth remained stuck in his tongue.
Jaws turned to face Cream Puff. Blood trickled from the side of his mouth. He growled and attempted speech, but the tooth in his tongue prevented that. In great pain and with the baby tooth still in his mouth, Jaws leapt over the fence....
....With a new fear of kittens.
*****
After the frightening experience, Cream Puff ran back into Cynthia’s home. Cynthia greeted her tearfully and with the cat carrier. Cream Puff willingly stepped in. Cynthia then took the carrier to her car and explained as she drove.
“Well, Cream Puff, it looks like your old owner misses you. He managed to locate you, and now he wants you back. He called me up on the phone about it, and I promised to take you back home,” Cynthia summed up.
The car swerved into her old owner, Jeramy’s, driveway. Cynthia stepped out and carried the cat carrier to Jeramy’s door and knocked. He, almost immediately, opened the door. He thanked Cynthia profusely, relentlessly telling her how grateful he was to her.
Once Cynthia had left with a tearful good-bye to Cream Puff, her owner released her from his arms and then embraced her in yet another passionate hug.
“Oh, how I missed you, Cream Puff,” he exclaimed tearfully. “Why did you run away from me, little sugar bug?”
Cream Puff replied with a blissful meow.
Her owner took her to his room and stroked her soft white fur on his bed. She settled herself down on his book once again, purring loudly.
“I wonder what adventures you had while you were out in the wilderness?” he said thoughtfully as he scratched her behind the ears.
You can’t even imagine, Cream Puff replied in her head, knowing that the humans didn’t understand the language of cats anyway.
He laughed. “None, then?” he inquired.
With that, he bound her with his arms.
And Cream Puff knew that she was exactly where she should be; in her true owner’s arms.
~End~
-KittyLover8
© 2012
She looked around her. Her owner was sound asleep next to her, waiting to finish reading chapter 10 of her book. Cream Puff stretched and blinked away the golden rays of sunshine that radiantly lit the window and steamed int the room, as if it were a fast-flowing river.
The hardwood floor was a dark, dank color. Cream Puff did not mind it, but Rag Doll, an old gray and white she-cat who was immensely sweet and kind, but a bit sore, did. She hated how hard it was on her paws.
Cream Puff saw the curtain, which teased her by blowing in a tantalizing way in the gentle breeze. The drapes, as Cream Puff believed, didn’t like her. They were always getting her in trouble and her owner seemed to like the beige things more then he liked Cream Puff.
The curtains laughed mockingly at Cream Puff in the whistling wind.
“Ok, you’re asking for it!” Cream Puff hissed in her most threatening way, raising the fur on her back and fluffing up her small white tail.
With that, Cream Puff launched herself at the nasty drapes. She clawed violently at the course textured cloth. Still growling, Cream Puff climbed her way up the drapes, leaving a river of holes in her wake.
Grunting, her half-asleep owner raised his head. Gasping as if he had just choked on an extraordinarily large grape, he leapt to he feet and seized Cream Puff, screeching wildly. He appeared to have gone mad.
Cream Puff felt scared and desperate. Why did her owner always defend the terrible drapes? She sprung from her owner’s grasp.
He leapt back, yelling and clutching his bleeding hand. Cream Puff hadn’t meant to hurt him, so, to apologize, Cream Puff rubbed against his calves, licking them lovingly, expressing her passionate love and admiration for her owner.
Angrily, her owner pushed her away with gruff hands.
Cream Puff stumbled into the couch, feeling hurt. As if the day could get even worse, the couch pricked her.
“Hey!” Cream Puff yelped, licking her shoulder. “Why’d you do that?”
The couch was rude enough to pretend like it hadn’t done a thing. It ignored Cream Puff’s defiant words, like everyone did.
Enraged by it all, Cream Puff flung herself at the black couch. It creaked in protest, but Cream Puff would not relent.
Her owner, seemingly blind with rage, violently suspended her in the air. Firm hands griping her scruff, her owner shoved Cream Puff into the cat carrier with no remorse whatsoever.
Cream Puff purred and rubbed against the bars, remembering the last time he had put her in here. Then, he had taken her on a fun car ride and she had chased fall leaves in the park.
Smiling as the pleasant memories came to her, Cream Puff did not notice her owner’s grim expression and the way his jaw was set.
Bright-eyed, Cream Puff stared out through the rusty medal bars as the car began to drive away from home. Yes! she thought. He’s finally on my side!
But he was not on her side. Not at all.
*****
Cream Puff yawned, awake after yet another nap. She jumped to her feet, expecting to see the park the the friendly animals.
But when her owner, who still refused to make eye contact with her, hauled the cat carrier out of the car, she saw a huge building instead.
Exited, Cream Puff wondered what wonderful new adventures lay at wait beyond the doors of the Vet Clinic.
She gleefully mewed at her owner, but when he pushed through the doors he gruffly set her, still inside of the carrier, down and began to talk to a stout lady with a kind expression.
For some reason, the woman’s face fell a while after the conversation started. Cream Puff wondered why, but she didn’t have much time to think about it. A young, anxtous-looking man came in a grabbed the cat carrier.
He walked down a long hallway, and then he took her through some large gray doors. After that, it was a nightmare.
Sad-looking cats and dogs in small cages stared at her with longing faces. Dogs whined in agony, hurting Cream Puff’s sensitive ears. Cats howled sadly. Some looked happy, but others looked so sad that it hurt Cream Puff’s heart just looking at them.
She was placed down inside of a cage. There, she waited for what would happen next. Her ears felt sore from all the loud noises that she heard, but she managed to pick out one friendly voice above the clamor.
“Hi there, little kitten!” the voice meowed in a warm way.
“Who are you?” Cream Puff inquired, sea-green eyes wide with wonder.
“Oh, excuse my manners, little lady,” the voice said apologetically. “My name a Cougar. And, if you don’t mind my asking, little lady, what is your name?”
“Well, hi Cougar,” Cream Puff mewed politely. “My name is Cream Puff.”
“Hello, there, Cream Puff. Beautiful name, really,” Cougar replied. “So what are you doing here, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Well I don’t know,” Cream Puff meowed, puzzled. “Is there some kind of park around here?”
“No, I’m sorry to say,” Cougar answered. “This is what is called a vet clinic. Nothing like a park, really. So’s, you don’t know what a vet clinic is?”
Cream Puff shook her head, forgetting that her friend couldn’t see her.
“Little lady?” Cougar called.
“Oh, um, no.”
“Well, then I’ll have to teach it to you,” Cougar announced promptly. “A vet clinic is a place where they make you fall asleep with this poison stuff and then, when you wake up, you’re a different cat.” For the first time sense she had met him, Cougar’s voice sounded dark
“It’s true,” an old dog underneath them agreed in a voice that sounded watered down.
“Hello, there, Faith!” Cougar exclaimed. Then he addressed Cream Puff, “That’s Faith. She’s a hundred years old if she’s a day. I swear by it.”
“I’m not that old,” Faith retorted with a snort. “Don’t listen to a thing he says, you poor thing.”
“She’s crazy,” Cougar told Cream Puff. Then, he happily exclaimed, “Both of our names begin with ‘C’, little lady!”
“Oh,” Cream Puff meowed a little dispiritedly.
“So, little lady,” Cougar said with a sigh. “Look’s like you’re about to see why your owner brought you here.”
Cream Puff looked ahead and saw a slender woman with brown, gray-streaked hair tied back in a ponytail advancing. The woman unlatched the cage, grabbed Cream Puff, and pulled her out.
Cream Puff considered struggling, but the lady’s arms were warm and gentle, her expression kind and loving. The woman was the only thing that day that gave Cream Puff any comfort. In her arms, Cream Puff was happy again.
The woman set Cream Puff down on a large expanse of stainless steal that served as a table. Purring, Cream Puff rubbed against the other peoples arm, licking and rubbing anything she could get ahold of.
She heard the people lovingly say “aw” in union. This isn’t bad, Cream Puff thought.
Then, one of the people grabbed a large mask and put it on Cream Puff’s muzzle. She breathed in deeply, wondering what this strange thing was. She smelled an odd scent, but she trusted the kind people.
A little while later, Cream Puff felt drowsy. She stifled a yawn. Cream Puff fought to keep her eyes open, but she was no match against the drug. She closed her eyes and snuggled down. She might as well make the most of it.
After all, what could happen?
*****
Feeling groggy, Cream Puff raised her head. She felt weak. For a few moments, she didn’t know where she was. Then it came to her. She was at the vet clinic. In a medal cage. After she had fallen asleep. What was that scent? She couldn’t place it in her groggy state....
She, wavering, tempted to stand. Her paws felt weak and numb, as if they were being crushed. She crashed to the floor of the hard, cold cage.
She looked down at her paws, wondering what was wrong with them. She gasped at what she saw.
Her paws were wrapped in blood-stained white tape. Suddenly more awake, Cream Puff felt a pain so intense that it hurt her stomach. She felt as if her insides were being twisted into knots. She felt as if the tops of her paws had been cut of. She saw pools of blood on the cage floor. A wave of nausea crashed over her like a tsunami.
Wailing, she fell to the ground, weakly tearing at the cloth so that she could wash her paws. Surely washing them would help....
A grumpy-looking middle-aged man with slick black hair covered in way to much hair gel snatched her up and pulled her mouth away from her bleeding paws. Then he tossed her back into the traitorous cat carrier that Cream Puff had once trusted.
The man then hurriedly carried the carrier into the waiting room, where her owner impatiently waited for her.
Cream Puff, still desperate to take the blood-soaked tape off of her claws, was then carried back to the now-hated car and driven back home. She felt sick, weak, sad, and somewhat empty. She felt like something in her paws was missing.
*****
Cream Puff woke up, vaguely aware of the fact that she was back home, laying on the uncomfortable hardwood floor. Pain like a thousand bees stinging her at once in her paw made her feel weak.
She got up. Cream Puff stared down at her paws, which were still warped in the tape. In desperation, Cream Puff tore at the tape. She was at it for several hours before, finally, she had ripped it off of both of her paws.
She almost wished to she hadn’t revealed what had happened to her....
She jumped back. How could this have happened? Her claws and part of her toes. Feeling dizzy with realization, she desperately licked her paw. She knew that it wouldn’t do anything, but it had empty holes in it and itched terribly.
She licked away the surgical glue and blood spilled to the floor. Head spinning, Cream Puff stumbled backwards. She fell into the couch, with the curtains, as always, laughing in their mocking, high-pitched whistle.
She shrieked and flung herself at them, unsheathing her claws, but nothing happened. She noticed that something was wrong immediately, but it wasn’t until she fell through the drapes, slamming into the wall beyond them, that she saw that her claws had not come out.
Red paw prints were left in a trail on the floor. Cream Puff stood, violently shaking, and stared at her clawless paws. They were covered in brown, dried blood and crimson blood that streamed from her empty toes.
Clawless, clawless! the curtains whistled mockingly.
Clawless, clawless! the couch creaked in a teasing tone.
Clawless, clawless! the mouse toy squeaked as Jamie, a one-year old orange tabby tom, pushed it across the blood covered hardwood.
“Clawless, clawless!” Jamie mocked with them.
Head still spinning, Cream Puff ran away. She ran away from the mocking voices.
Clawless, clawless!
She ran away from the teasing.
Clawless, clawless!
She ran away from the reminder.
Clawless, clawless!
Blinded by her tears, Cream Puff ran out of the door.
Clawless, clawless!
But, no matter how much she fled, the voices still mocked her.
Clawless, clawless!
*****
Cream Puff awoke, having cried herself to sleep, lost and alone, hours after leaving her home.
She felt exhausted from blood loss and fleeing. She also was starving. She looked around her. She had never been to this strange place before. Normally, Cream Puff would have enjoyed herself exploring, but at the moment, she was sad and hungry with no one to comfort her and no food.
She stood, weak and wavering. Why did the world have to be so cruel?
Then, suddenly, she saw a lady wearing an extremely long green dress and a shimmering, silver and blue necklace. The woman’s hair, which was long, frizzy, and black, was tied hopelessly into a messy ponytail. It crowned her head, sticking every which-way.
Scared about what might happen if the woman picked her up, Cream Puff darted underneath a clump of spider-infested bushes. But not before the lady saw her.
In a kind, welcoming voice, the woman called, “Kitty! Kitty kitty!”
Cream Puff was tempted, but refused to come out. What if the woman captured her and cut off her tail. She might as well.
The lady then, after a few more minutes of calling ‘kitty,’ left. Cream Puff relaxed, but it wasn’t a minute later that the woman came back, this time carrying a tasty-smelling bowl of cat food.
Cream Puff wriggled with excitement at the smell of food. The woman called to her in such a kind voice and held such a tantalizing morsel....
Cream Puff could resist no longer. She raced out, forgetting the pain in her bleeding paws, to which she had reopened the cut going underneath the bush, and wolfed down the food.
Before she had taken five bites, the person had snatched her up and hastily shoved her into a cat carrier.
Cream Puff yowled in distress. Did humans show no remorse? Did humans have no mercy? If they did, then they didn’t show it.
This one had tricked her and soon she would have no tail. Cream Puff knew it. This human would do something terrible to her. She knew it.
*****
The kind human was named Cynthia and did not, in fact, chop off Cream Puff’s tail. Instead, she was extremely nice to Cream Puff. She fed her and brushed her and, best of all, she gave her lots of love.
“To a cat, bliss is a kind voice and a loving hand.”
~Me
Cynthia and Cream Puff formed a strong, unbreakable bond. Cynthia was kind and loving, and Cream Puff returned the love and friendship.
But, one day, while Cream Puff was playing with a black beetle in Cynthia’s elaborate and fenced garden, a huge black and white cat with narrowed green eyes stalked in, snarling.
“W-what do you want?” Cream Puff stuttered shakily.
“I want, you worthless fleabag, to kill your old owner,” the cat growled. “My name is Jaws.”
“My old owner?” Cream Puff gasped. “Why would you want to kill him?”
“Because,” Jaws hissed. “He imprisoned me, as he did to you. I was hoping that you could tell me where his location is.”
“Never!” Cream Puff replied defiantly. “He may have been cruel to me, and to you, but he does not deserve to die. Revenge and violence is not the answer.”
Jaws unsheathed nasty-looking, long claws and bared brutal, sharp teeth. “Are you sure? You can always take your answer back.”
Cream Puff didn’t say a word, but the look in her eyes was answer enough.
“Last try,” Jaws warned mercilessly.
“Never,” Cream Puff whispered, tears forming in her eyes, as she knew that these were her last words.
Jaws lunged at her. “Die, you inferior maggot!”
Cream Puff was small, so some might think that she had an advantage. But she did not. Her legs, short and sore from the declawing.
Jaws easily, with a sharp hooked claw, it pierced her skin and stung as he suspended her into the air. Jaws hung her over his gaping maw.
“Any second thoughts? Any regrets?” Jaws asked.
Cream Puff didn’t utter a single word.
“Good-bye, then,” Jaws growled mercilessly.
And with that, Jaws dropped her into his mouth. In desperation, Cream Puff bit Jaws’s tongue.
Now, mind you, Cream Puff had lost all of her baby teeth, and now had only small stubs of ingrowing new teeth. These were to short to do anything, so it was really just her biting the giant of a cat with gums. One baby tooth was still left.
The baby tooth pierced Jaws’s tongue. Jaws stumbled backwards, howling in pain and fury. Cream Puff fell out of his jaws, but her baby tooth remained stuck in his tongue.
Jaws turned to face Cream Puff. Blood trickled from the side of his mouth. He growled and attempted speech, but the tooth in his tongue prevented that. In great pain and with the baby tooth still in his mouth, Jaws leapt over the fence....
....With a new fear of kittens.
*****
After the frightening experience, Cream Puff ran back into Cynthia’s home. Cynthia greeted her tearfully and with the cat carrier. Cream Puff willingly stepped in. Cynthia then took the carrier to her car and explained as she drove.
“Well, Cream Puff, it looks like your old owner misses you. He managed to locate you, and now he wants you back. He called me up on the phone about it, and I promised to take you back home,” Cynthia summed up.
The car swerved into her old owner, Jeramy’s, driveway. Cynthia stepped out and carried the cat carrier to Jeramy’s door and knocked. He, almost immediately, opened the door. He thanked Cynthia profusely, relentlessly telling her how grateful he was to her.
Once Cynthia had left with a tearful good-bye to Cream Puff, her owner released her from his arms and then embraced her in yet another passionate hug.
“Oh, how I missed you, Cream Puff,” he exclaimed tearfully. “Why did you run away from me, little sugar bug?”
Cream Puff replied with a blissful meow.
Her owner took her to his room and stroked her soft white fur on his bed. She settled herself down on his book once again, purring loudly.
“I wonder what adventures you had while you were out in the wilderness?” he said thoughtfully as he scratched her behind the ears.
You can’t even imagine, Cream Puff replied in her head, knowing that the humans didn’t understand the language of cats anyway.
He laughed. “None, then?” he inquired.
With that, he bound her with his arms.
And Cream Puff knew that she was exactly where she should be; in her true owner’s arms.
~End~
-KittyLover8
© 2012
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Carnivorous Plants: Chapter 1: Poisonous Pitchers
Chapter 1
Poisonous Pitchers
Poisonous pitchers is an interesting and fitting name for this chapter. Pitcher plants are filled with digestive juices that slowly turn the insides of their victims into liquid.
Pitcher plants come in different shapes, sizes, and colors. The purple pitcher is green and violet, but is very different in design compared to cousins, such as blood cups or a tropical pitcher. Even the same kinds of plants, such as blood cups, look different. For example, in blood cups, the sweet juice can be red or green; the ‘cups’ can be orange, green or red; and the stands can be red, green, or a modeled mix of the two.
So, speaking of blood cups, let’s take a closer look at these poisonous pitchers.
Blood cups, also called devil’s jugs, huntsman’s cups, and frog’s breeches look very, very strange. They look as though they are sewn together along the edge with discolored green needles sticking and interlacing in every which-way. The green, red, or green and red bulbous stands look like large, alien jars with curricular red, orange, or green cups set at the mouths. Some have a few, randomly placed red, green, or green edged with red leaves. These are shaped like slender ovals with pointed tips. Adding to the odd appearance, they are filled with a usually blood-red juice to attract their soon-to-be-victims.
And that is just how one of these strange meat-eating plants look.
Another kind of pitcher, a tropical pitcher, looks just as out-of-this-world. It has a round leaf at its top. This leaf is a yellowy-green and a red color. A circle-shaped ring crowns the opening, and after that is a odd shaped body filled with sticky syrup. At its very base, is a vine, which leads upwards towards a large green leaf hanging from a plant that has the potential to grow up to 50 feet tall.
Others include the ten-petaled trumpet pitcher plant (a beautiful yellow five-pedal flower with five other, longer and more slender pedals hanging at the bottom) and the Nepenthes inermis (a light green cup-shaped pitcher plant with a small, thin vine hanging over the top).
Basically, pitcher plants are cup-shaped, usually hanging, with vats of sticky and sweet digestive juices that make bug and other animals zeroing in on what they think is a free meal become the meal of the plant!
The usual look of a pitcher plant, with the exception of plants like blood cups and purple pitchers, is a gourd-shaped body with a circular opening and a leaf (of various sizes) crowning the top.
Life in the World of a Bug
A large black fly smelled the sweet scent of nectar. Yum, it thought. Dinner.
The fly followed the delicious scent until it found what it was looking for: a tube-shaped plant hanging from an elegant vine, both of which where splotched with green and red.
Licking its lips with its thin black tongue, the fly buzzed over to the plant. Aware of the thick vat of liquid below it, the fly clung to the edge of the strange plant in hopes to sample some sweet nectar.
The fly flicked its tongue in and out in and out. It tasted the sweet syrup. Happily, the fly dared to creep closer to the tantalizingly delicious smelling, and tasting, juices.
It continued to eat the stuff, hoping to gorge itself so that it wouldn’t have to eat for the rest of the day. At the thought, the fly licked up the nectar even more quickly.
Suddenly, it slipped down into the thick of sweet syrup. The fly, in desperation, attempted flight, but its wings were to thickly coated in the juices to beat and raise the fly’s body.
It used up its last hope trying to climb the walls of the plant once more. But now, there were countless hairs baring its way to freedom, making it impossible for it to flee from the sticky nectar.
It floated helplessly, felling a terrible pain. Slowly, the plant digested its victim and awaited its next meal....
Fun Facts About Pitcher Plants
• Some spiders will steal the catches of pitcher plants. They’ll sometimes make webs over the openings of a pitcher plant. A bug flying in for a sip of sweet nectar will get stuck in the spider’s web. •Another thing that spiders will do is they will make a single strand of a web and, when they’re hungry, will swoop down and snatch the pitcher plant’s meal. Other times, they get caught by the plant themselves.
• Ants have also found a way to outsmart the pitcher plants. They swim through the poisonous liquid and steal the victims of the plant. No one knows how the ants do not become liquified in the nectar.
• Some carnivorous plants are active, and some are passive. An active carnivorous plant will move to catch its prey, like a Cephalotus follicularis or a sundew. A passive carnivorous plant will sit still and leave inanimate traps for its prey. Some of these include Nempenthes inermis and blood cups.• In some tropical pitchers, rats become victims and mean a feast for a pitcher plant.
• Carnivorous plants not only make food out of dead animals, but they also use photosynthesis--as most plants do--to provide them with food.
• Carnivorous plants live on every continent except Antarctica.
Last One
To end this chapter, we will talk about Cephalotus follicularis, a beautiful and extraordinary pitcher plant.
Cephalotus follicularis looks kind of like a blood cup in a way. It has a stand braided with spines. But, unlike the blood cup, it looks like it has an open clam shell on its top, not a cup. The ‘clam shell’ has a bottom covered in what looks like rings. The top of the ‘shell’ is covered in needles. This plant comes in a wide verity of colors and color blends. Red, violet, green, white, and brown come in all shades in this type of carnivorous plant. The leathery ‘skin’ covering Cephalotus follicularis’s stand is faded by the beautiful ‘clam shell’ crowning the top.
Located only in a small area of Australia, the Cephalotus follicularis is hard to find. But it is easy for this plant to find an easy meal.
First, the Cephalotus follicularis will lie in wait, ‘cam shell’ open. Next, when a wandering, curious bug or other small organism comes across it and climbs inside, hopeful for a taste of sweet nectar, the lid will snap shut. It’s a one-way entrance, and now its blocked. The creature has no chance of escape.
The ‘clam shell’ with remain closed until the bug is liquified. Then, it will open, ready for its next meal.
-KittyLover8
© 2012
Poisonous Pitchers
Poisonous pitchers is an interesting and fitting name for this chapter. Pitcher plants are filled with digestive juices that slowly turn the insides of their victims into liquid.
Pitcher plants come in different shapes, sizes, and colors. The purple pitcher is green and violet, but is very different in design compared to cousins, such as blood cups or a tropical pitcher. Even the same kinds of plants, such as blood cups, look different. For example, in blood cups, the sweet juice can be red or green; the ‘cups’ can be orange, green or red; and the stands can be red, green, or a modeled mix of the two.
So, speaking of blood cups, let’s take a closer look at these poisonous pitchers.
Blood cups, also called devil’s jugs, huntsman’s cups, and frog’s breeches look very, very strange. They look as though they are sewn together along the edge with discolored green needles sticking and interlacing in every which-way. The green, red, or green and red bulbous stands look like large, alien jars with curricular red, orange, or green cups set at the mouths. Some have a few, randomly placed red, green, or green edged with red leaves. These are shaped like slender ovals with pointed tips. Adding to the odd appearance, they are filled with a usually blood-red juice to attract their soon-to-be-victims.
And that is just how one of these strange meat-eating plants look.
Another kind of pitcher, a tropical pitcher, looks just as out-of-this-world. It has a round leaf at its top. This leaf is a yellowy-green and a red color. A circle-shaped ring crowns the opening, and after that is a odd shaped body filled with sticky syrup. At its very base, is a vine, which leads upwards towards a large green leaf hanging from a plant that has the potential to grow up to 50 feet tall.
Others include the ten-petaled trumpet pitcher plant (a beautiful yellow five-pedal flower with five other, longer and more slender pedals hanging at the bottom) and the Nepenthes inermis (a light green cup-shaped pitcher plant with a small, thin vine hanging over the top).
Basically, pitcher plants are cup-shaped, usually hanging, with vats of sticky and sweet digestive juices that make bug and other animals zeroing in on what they think is a free meal become the meal of the plant!
The usual look of a pitcher plant, with the exception of plants like blood cups and purple pitchers, is a gourd-shaped body with a circular opening and a leaf (of various sizes) crowning the top.
Life in the World of a Bug
A large black fly smelled the sweet scent of nectar. Yum, it thought. Dinner.
The fly followed the delicious scent until it found what it was looking for: a tube-shaped plant hanging from an elegant vine, both of which where splotched with green and red.
Licking its lips with its thin black tongue, the fly buzzed over to the plant. Aware of the thick vat of liquid below it, the fly clung to the edge of the strange plant in hopes to sample some sweet nectar.
The fly flicked its tongue in and out in and out. It tasted the sweet syrup. Happily, the fly dared to creep closer to the tantalizingly delicious smelling, and tasting, juices.
It continued to eat the stuff, hoping to gorge itself so that it wouldn’t have to eat for the rest of the day. At the thought, the fly licked up the nectar even more quickly.
Suddenly, it slipped down into the thick of sweet syrup. The fly, in desperation, attempted flight, but its wings were to thickly coated in the juices to beat and raise the fly’s body.
It used up its last hope trying to climb the walls of the plant once more. But now, there were countless hairs baring its way to freedom, making it impossible for it to flee from the sticky nectar.
It floated helplessly, felling a terrible pain. Slowly, the plant digested its victim and awaited its next meal....
Fun Facts About Pitcher Plants
• Some spiders will steal the catches of pitcher plants. They’ll sometimes make webs over the openings of a pitcher plant. A bug flying in for a sip of sweet nectar will get stuck in the spider’s web. •Another thing that spiders will do is they will make a single strand of a web and, when they’re hungry, will swoop down and snatch the pitcher plant’s meal. Other times, they get caught by the plant themselves.
• Ants have also found a way to outsmart the pitcher plants. They swim through the poisonous liquid and steal the victims of the plant. No one knows how the ants do not become liquified in the nectar.
• Some carnivorous plants are active, and some are passive. An active carnivorous plant will move to catch its prey, like a Cephalotus follicularis or a sundew. A passive carnivorous plant will sit still and leave inanimate traps for its prey. Some of these include Nempenthes inermis and blood cups.• In some tropical pitchers, rats become victims and mean a feast for a pitcher plant.
• Carnivorous plants not only make food out of dead animals, but they also use photosynthesis--as most plants do--to provide them with food.
• Carnivorous plants live on every continent except Antarctica.
Last One
To end this chapter, we will talk about Cephalotus follicularis, a beautiful and extraordinary pitcher plant.
Cephalotus follicularis looks kind of like a blood cup in a way. It has a stand braided with spines. But, unlike the blood cup, it looks like it has an open clam shell on its top, not a cup. The ‘clam shell’ has a bottom covered in what looks like rings. The top of the ‘shell’ is covered in needles. This plant comes in a wide verity of colors and color blends. Red, violet, green, white, and brown come in all shades in this type of carnivorous plant. The leathery ‘skin’ covering Cephalotus follicularis’s stand is faded by the beautiful ‘clam shell’ crowning the top.
Located only in a small area of Australia, the Cephalotus follicularis is hard to find. But it is easy for this plant to find an easy meal.
First, the Cephalotus follicularis will lie in wait, ‘cam shell’ open. Next, when a wandering, curious bug or other small organism comes across it and climbs inside, hopeful for a taste of sweet nectar, the lid will snap shut. It’s a one-way entrance, and now its blocked. The creature has no chance of escape.
The ‘clam shell’ with remain closed until the bug is liquified. Then, it will open, ready for its next meal.
-KittyLover8
© 2012
Carnivorous Plants: Introduction
Introduction
Okay, so have you ever heard of plants that eat people? I can only hope that you didn’t believe those tall tales.
And no, this is not how I’m going to open.
First of all, this book is about carnivorous plants (read the title). Plants that do not, in fact, eat humans. They eat bugs, toads, frogs, birds, mice, and some even eat rats. Although you can name hundreds of animals that eat these same things, the fact that plants eat meat can be mind-boggling.
Some of the chapter titles in this book might be a bit confusing: pitchers, traps, tentacles, est. Well, these are just different ways the plants catch their prey. A pitcher plant would be in the chapter pitchers, a Venus flytrap or a waterwheel would be in the category traps, and a sundew would be in the section tentacles.
So, now that you have read a boring introduction about nothing, I hope that you enjoy my book.
Okay, so have you ever heard of plants that eat people? I can only hope that you didn’t believe those tall tales.
And no, this is not how I’m going to open.
First of all, this book is about carnivorous plants (read the title). Plants that do not, in fact, eat humans. They eat bugs, toads, frogs, birds, mice, and some even eat rats. Although you can name hundreds of animals that eat these same things, the fact that plants eat meat can be mind-boggling.
Some of the chapter titles in this book might be a bit confusing: pitchers, traps, tentacles, est. Well, these are just different ways the plants catch their prey. A pitcher plant would be in the chapter pitchers, a Venus flytrap or a waterwheel would be in the category traps, and a sundew would be in the section tentacles.
So, now that you have read a boring introduction about nothing, I hope that you enjoy my book.
Friday, September 14, 2012
New Image: Prologue
One night, as thunder rolled and lightning flashed, a mother cat's meow broke into the air.
Other cats gathered, seeming to have no clue what personal space was, to see the new kittens being born.
Hearts raced. The mother cat's moans of pain filled the still dawn air. But, finally, after what had seemed like all eternity, the kittens were born.
The sun rose up above the snow-capped mountains and the clouds cleared to welcome the new life to the world, its radiant pink and violet glow warmed the rim of the earth that was on the horizon, turning it golden. Slowly, the stars faded until there was nothing left of the night sky but a few stars and charcoal-black shadows drifting at the very corners of the heavens. Until those, too, vanished, hidden away until night came once more.
New life was welcomed to the world.
Other cats gathered, seeming to have no clue what personal space was, to see the new kittens being born.
Hearts raced. The mother cat's moans of pain filled the still dawn air. But, finally, after what had seemed like all eternity, the kittens were born.
The sun rose up above the snow-capped mountains and the clouds cleared to welcome the new life to the world, its radiant pink and violet glow warmed the rim of the earth that was on the horizon, turning it golden. Slowly, the stars faded until there was nothing left of the night sky but a few stars and charcoal-black shadows drifting at the very corners of the heavens. Until those, too, vanished, hidden away until night came once more.
New life was welcomed to the world.
*****
"Leach! Worm!" Maggot called. Her brother and sister raced over to her, eager to be freed of the agony their tormentors caused them.
A lot had happened sense their mother, FireFlare, had had them. Once they were old enough to not be dependent on milk and had been weaned, FireFlare had vanished. They had been named, but even the young trio didn't know the names they had been given.
Their father SunSpark, had never payed them any mind, so there was no one that they could look too. They had been named by a bunch of bullies after unwanted animals and the names had stuck. Other cats had given them nicknames, but they might as well have not, for the names were forgotten and vanished from the memories of those who had heard them used.
Maggot had been named for her white, creamy Siamese color, and gray all blended together (and also for the fact that she was very shrimpy). The Siamese and gray colors were frosted lightly in a few random places. She had long, sleek fur that seemed to be permanently closely stuck to her body, unlike her sister. Her eyes, even the bullies admitted (when they were alone), were beautiful. They shone an icy blue with a spark of gray haloing the iris. They were wide, always large as if she was forever taking everything in. That seemed to only emphasize their beauty.
Leach was a dark brown tomboy she-cat with delicate-looking cloud-white paws. Her tail tip was black as the night sky, like a cheetah's. She had an intelligent, pricing green stare that seemed to rip through you when she was angry. Her long fur was sleek and shone brightly, even in the dimmest of light. She was self-confident (with reason) and had no sense of humor whatsoever. Her laugh was the most beautiful sound in the world (at least in most cat's opinions).
Worm was a shy boy, the youngest of the siblings, with vague tan tabby stripes and a loving brown gaze that always seemed to say 'Wanna be friends?'. He loved everyone (literally) and loved to laugh. His purr was....loud. And rumbling and comforting. And loud. Very loud. He loved to joke around and be happy, which was hard when you were always being bullied and beat up. He didn't always understand things and, above all, loved animals. He would play with butterflies and mice and other animals of the sort. He refused to eat meat, and somehow got around by eating nut and berries and seeds.
They were an....odd bunch.
So, when Leach, Maggot, or Worm heard someone call their names, they knew that it was one of their siblings. Unless, of course, it was just more bullies to tease and hurt them.
"Guys, I just had a really strange dream," Maggot told her brother and sister once they gathered, looking at her with eager and expectant expressions.
"What was it about?" Worm asked excitedly. As he spoke, he purred. He almost always was purring. Even now, with a large, freshly closed scab on his chin and bruises on his back, not to mention a huge bite mark eerily close to his jugular.
"Well," Maggot started, blue eyes flashing as she watched Leach and Worm's faces. "This is how it all started...."
-KittyLover8
© 2012
A lot had happened sense their mother, FireFlare, had had them. Once they were old enough to not be dependent on milk and had been weaned, FireFlare had vanished. They had been named, but even the young trio didn't know the names they had been given.
Their father SunSpark, had never payed them any mind, so there was no one that they could look too. They had been named by a bunch of bullies after unwanted animals and the names had stuck. Other cats had given them nicknames, but they might as well have not, for the names were forgotten and vanished from the memories of those who had heard them used.
Maggot had been named for her white, creamy Siamese color, and gray all blended together (and also for the fact that she was very shrimpy). The Siamese and gray colors were frosted lightly in a few random places. She had long, sleek fur that seemed to be permanently closely stuck to her body, unlike her sister. Her eyes, even the bullies admitted (when they were alone), were beautiful. They shone an icy blue with a spark of gray haloing the iris. They were wide, always large as if she was forever taking everything in. That seemed to only emphasize their beauty.
Leach was a dark brown tomboy she-cat with delicate-looking cloud-white paws. Her tail tip was black as the night sky, like a cheetah's. She had an intelligent, pricing green stare that seemed to rip through you when she was angry. Her long fur was sleek and shone brightly, even in the dimmest of light. She was self-confident (with reason) and had no sense of humor whatsoever. Her laugh was the most beautiful sound in the world (at least in most cat's opinions).
Worm was a shy boy, the youngest of the siblings, with vague tan tabby stripes and a loving brown gaze that always seemed to say 'Wanna be friends?'. He loved everyone (literally) and loved to laugh. His purr was....loud. And rumbling and comforting. And loud. Very loud. He loved to joke around and be happy, which was hard when you were always being bullied and beat up. He didn't always understand things and, above all, loved animals. He would play with butterflies and mice and other animals of the sort. He refused to eat meat, and somehow got around by eating nut and berries and seeds.
They were an....odd bunch.
So, when Leach, Maggot, or Worm heard someone call their names, they knew that it was one of their siblings. Unless, of course, it was just more bullies to tease and hurt them.
"Guys, I just had a really strange dream," Maggot told her brother and sister once they gathered, looking at her with eager and expectant expressions.
"What was it about?" Worm asked excitedly. As he spoke, he purred. He almost always was purring. Even now, with a large, freshly closed scab on his chin and bruises on his back, not to mention a huge bite mark eerily close to his jugular.
"Well," Maggot started, blue eyes flashing as she watched Leach and Worm's faces. "This is how it all started...."
-KittyLover8
© 2012
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Last Resort
Her comrades have fled,
Her ammo is long sense gone,
Her her hope is a mere memory,
Her thought-to-be friends have betrayed her,
Her dreams have been crushed,
Her sward is next to useless,
Her determination has been lost.
The last of her hope rises,
Until it reaches her heart,
Where her sole awaits it.
She becomes whole again,
She begins to focus,
She now knows what is right and wrong,
She recalls a reawakened memory,
She knows what she must do.
She charges, fearless,
Brave and determined,
To fight for what she believes in,
To be the last one standing,
And as her blood falls to the ground,
As the merciless monster approaches,
She knows that this was right.
As her lifeblood leaves her,
She knows that this would be the right way to end the war,
And as she takes her last breath,
She knows that she made a difference.
-KittyLover8
© 2012
Her ammo is long sense gone,
Her her hope is a mere memory,
Her thought-to-be friends have betrayed her,
Her dreams have been crushed,
Her sward is next to useless,
Her determination has been lost.
The last of her hope rises,
Until it reaches her heart,
Where her sole awaits it.
She becomes whole again,
She begins to focus,
She now knows what is right and wrong,
She recalls a reawakened memory,
She knows what she must do.
She charges, fearless,
Brave and determined,
To fight for what she believes in,
To be the last one standing,
And as her blood falls to the ground,
As the merciless monster approaches,
She knows that this was right.
As her lifeblood leaves her,
She knows that this would be the right way to end the war,
And as she takes her last breath,
She knows that she made a difference.
-KittyLover8
© 2012
Little Kitty
Sobbing,
Uncontrollable tears,
Mingled feelings,
Anger, rage,
Sadness, worry,
For my little kitty.
Little kitty, sleeping away,
It tears my heart,
It rips it away,
Little kitty, sleeping all day.
Little kitty, pure affection,
It makes my cry,
It makes me call for a reelection,
Little kitty, pure affection.
Little kitty, lots of love,
He's the sweetest,
A little dove,
Little kitty, lots of love.
Little kitty, rubbing against me,
Makes me sob,
Why take him away from me?
Little kitty, rubbing against me.
Sobbing,
Uncontrollable tears,
Mingled feelings,
Anger, rage,
Sadness, worry,
For my little kitty.
My little friend,
Oh, how I love him,
Why dose our friendship have to end?
My little friend.
Sobbing,
Uncontrollable tears,
Mingled feelings,
Anger, rage,
Sadness, worry,
For my little kitty.
-KittyLover8
© 2012
Uncontrollable tears,
Mingled feelings,
Anger, rage,
Sadness, worry,
For my little kitty.
Little kitty, sleeping away,
It tears my heart,
It rips it away,
Little kitty, sleeping all day.
Little kitty, pure affection,
It makes my cry,
It makes me call for a reelection,
Little kitty, pure affection.
Little kitty, lots of love,
He's the sweetest,
A little dove,
Little kitty, lots of love.
Little kitty, rubbing against me,
Makes me sob,
Why take him away from me?
Little kitty, rubbing against me.
Sobbing,
Uncontrollable tears,
Mingled feelings,
Anger, rage,
Sadness, worry,
For my little kitty.
My little friend,
Oh, how I love him,
Why dose our friendship have to end?
My little friend.
Sobbing,
Uncontrollable tears,
Mingled feelings,
Anger, rage,
Sadness, worry,
For my little kitty.
-KittyLover8
© 2012
Monday, September 3, 2012
Rapture: Magic: Book One: Chapter Two: Cymite's Story
Devenolete continued the story. “This is how it all started.
“I was a cat near the age of one, almost a year ago. I had ventured from home to investigate the surroundings of my new home. I had recently come to find my home, which was a cave, at the time.” Devenolete recollected.
“As I was rounding a corner, I smelled smoke. The stench filled my nose and sparked the kitten curiosity that was still inside of me.
“So, I followed the smell with my nose. The scent was powerful, and was very easy to follow. When I could smell the scent so strongly that I couldn’t smell a thing but the stench. I realized that the scent was not really smoke. It smelled almost like someone was burning lemons, an acidic scent with a smokey stench. When I turned to the direction in which the stench was most powerful, I regretted my coming here.
“There was a pile of burning stones, and above it was a cat. The cat’s feet was tied to the wall with chains, and, though the cat was hanging high over the fire, she or he was diffidently very hot. The flames were strong and everything around me and the cat was made of either stone or medal.
“I was starting to back away, fearful of who the cat who put the other cat here was, and where that cat was. But, just then, I caught a glance of the chained cat’s face. I saw the pain and suffering in the cat’s eyes. That was when I knew that I had to help her.
“I ran foreword and called up to the chained she-cat that hung from the top of the medal roof. ‘I’m going to get you down!’ I shouted as loudly as I could, so that the cat could hear her. ‘Don’t panic! I won’t hurt you!’
“The cat looked down at her, slight fear in her young eyes. The she-cat looked younger then me, and her face betrayed every emotion that she was feeling. But, there was trust in her eyes also, along with the fear. The she-cat gave me a small nod, an invite to do whatever I could to get her free.
“I observed that there were many weapons and chains and ropes and many other lethal things around me. There were strange looking things that I later learned are called guns.”
“What are guns, Devenolete?” Queela interrupted.
“Gun are...dangerous weapons. You will learn about then later in your life,” then, not to Devenolete’s surprise, she noticed that the adult cats didn’t understand what guns were, either. She gave them a look that said, I’ll tell you more tonight. Not in front of the kittens. Not here, not now.
Almost all of the adult cats of the Group of Majic and Rescue nodded slightly and silently. From what Devenolete said, guns were dangerous things that the kittens should not learn about or be exposed to.
Devenolete continued her story.
"I realized that there was a long rope that lead up to the ceiling that hung high over my head. If I climbed that rope, then I could run along the medal planks to a chain where I would be able to take a leap of faith and reach the chained she-cat.
"I felt hope flare in my chest. I could reach the she-cat! That would bring me one step closer to releasing her, to freeing her from her bonds.
"The hope died only a few quick moments after it came. How would I be able to reach the rope? It was well higher then I could jump. I knew that, however hard I tried, I would be unable to jump that height.
"I looked around for other ways that I could reach the helpless cat, but each and every single opportunity that I found only lead to a dead end.
"I looked back on my original idea. If I could reach a higher height, I could jump, catch the rope, and continue with my plan. There was no time to waste. I turned and took in my surroundings once again, this time with a new determination that had grown in the time that had delayed the she-cat's rescue. I was doing this for her. And I would not fail her.
"I sighted a rectangular wooden box. It was the only wooden thing in the place, and it was behind a group of square medal and stone boxes. I didn't know how I would be able to reach the wooden one, but something inside of me told me that I would reach it. And that I would be able to reach that rope. And, perhaps I would be able to save the she-cat. The least I could do was try."
Absorbed by the story, Cymite barely heard Flecka meow, "Cymite! Starsnatch wants you to come and see her!"
Cymite suppressed a sigh. Starsnatch was a sweet cat, and had very sweet kittens, but she worried a little too much. Cymite knew nothing about mothering five kittens, but Starsnatch and her were good friends, so Starsnatch asked her about everything. Literally.
Begrudgingly, Cymite left the crowded group of onlooking cats of the Group of Majic and Rescue to go see her friend.
The moment Cymite's head appeared in the entrance of the small hut, Starsnatch started talking.
"So you know how Witchra has always been like like different?" Without stopping for an answer or even a breath, Starsnatch continued. "Well Chianee's kittens have been teasing her. My little Witchra won't tell me what they said, but she has been been really depressed lately. I heard them teasing her, but I could only make out a few words, which I forgot."
That was Starsnatch. Always forgetful.
"Okay, so why did you ask me to come here, Starsnatch?" Cymite said tiredly, a headache pounding inside of her scull. She knew that whatever the problem that her friend was having, there was a 99.9% chance that she would be unable to solve it. And, when she was unable to solve a problem, Starsnatch would first bawl for a hour or so, and then badger Cymite for advice that she couldn't provide. Then, Starsnatch would resume her sobbing.
"Well, so you know how Witchra has always been like different? Well Chianee's kittens--" Starsnatch began.
"Oh!" Cymite interrupted, desperate to avoid hearing the story once more. "Yes, I heard that. She you want me to help you with Witchra getting teased?"
"Yes. Exactly. Positively," Starsnatch confirmed.
Then again, there was always that 0.1%.
"Well, why don't you watch them play without them knowing and, when they tease Witchra, you can confront them and tell them not to do that. If they still continue their taunting, then you should take the problem to the parent. Tell Chianee that her kittens are misbehaving and that you would like her to stop them."
"Sure. Okay. Fine. Got it. Righty-o..." Starsnatch replied.
While Starsnatch continued to go on and on with her response, needlessly saying different variations of 'sure', Cymite slipped out of the little hut that contained her chatty friend and her five cute kittens that were in impossibly playful moods, at the time.
“I was a cat near the age of one, almost a year ago. I had ventured from home to investigate the surroundings of my new home. I had recently come to find my home, which was a cave, at the time.” Devenolete recollected.
“As I was rounding a corner, I smelled smoke. The stench filled my nose and sparked the kitten curiosity that was still inside of me.
“So, I followed the smell with my nose. The scent was powerful, and was very easy to follow. When I could smell the scent so strongly that I couldn’t smell a thing but the stench. I realized that the scent was not really smoke. It smelled almost like someone was burning lemons, an acidic scent with a smokey stench. When I turned to the direction in which the stench was most powerful, I regretted my coming here.
“There was a pile of burning stones, and above it was a cat. The cat’s feet was tied to the wall with chains, and, though the cat was hanging high over the fire, she or he was diffidently very hot. The flames were strong and everything around me and the cat was made of either stone or medal.
“I was starting to back away, fearful of who the cat who put the other cat here was, and where that cat was. But, just then, I caught a glance of the chained cat’s face. I saw the pain and suffering in the cat’s eyes. That was when I knew that I had to help her.
“I ran foreword and called up to the chained she-cat that hung from the top of the medal roof. ‘I’m going to get you down!’ I shouted as loudly as I could, so that the cat could hear her. ‘Don’t panic! I won’t hurt you!’
“The cat looked down at her, slight fear in her young eyes. The she-cat looked younger then me, and her face betrayed every emotion that she was feeling. But, there was trust in her eyes also, along with the fear. The she-cat gave me a small nod, an invite to do whatever I could to get her free.
“I observed that there were many weapons and chains and ropes and many other lethal things around me. There were strange looking things that I later learned are called guns.”
“What are guns, Devenolete?” Queela interrupted.
“Gun are...dangerous weapons. You will learn about then later in your life,” then, not to Devenolete’s surprise, she noticed that the adult cats didn’t understand what guns were, either. She gave them a look that said, I’ll tell you more tonight. Not in front of the kittens. Not here, not now.
Almost all of the adult cats of the Group of Majic and Rescue nodded slightly and silently. From what Devenolete said, guns were dangerous things that the kittens should not learn about or be exposed to.
Devenolete continued her story.
"I realized that there was a long rope that lead up to the ceiling that hung high over my head. If I climbed that rope, then I could run along the medal planks to a chain where I would be able to take a leap of faith and reach the chained she-cat.
"I felt hope flare in my chest. I could reach the she-cat! That would bring me one step closer to releasing her, to freeing her from her bonds.
"The hope died only a few quick moments after it came. How would I be able to reach the rope? It was well higher then I could jump. I knew that, however hard I tried, I would be unable to jump that height.
"I looked around for other ways that I could reach the helpless cat, but each and every single opportunity that I found only lead to a dead end.
"I looked back on my original idea. If I could reach a higher height, I could jump, catch the rope, and continue with my plan. There was no time to waste. I turned and took in my surroundings once again, this time with a new determination that had grown in the time that had delayed the she-cat's rescue. I was doing this for her. And I would not fail her.
"I sighted a rectangular wooden box. It was the only wooden thing in the place, and it was behind a group of square medal and stone boxes. I didn't know how I would be able to reach the wooden one, but something inside of me told me that I would reach it. And that I would be able to reach that rope. And, perhaps I would be able to save the she-cat. The least I could do was try."
Absorbed by the story, Cymite barely heard Flecka meow, "Cymite! Starsnatch wants you to come and see her!"
Cymite suppressed a sigh. Starsnatch was a sweet cat, and had very sweet kittens, but she worried a little too much. Cymite knew nothing about mothering five kittens, but Starsnatch and her were good friends, so Starsnatch asked her about everything. Literally.
Begrudgingly, Cymite left the crowded group of onlooking cats of the Group of Majic and Rescue to go see her friend.
*****
The moment Cymite's head appeared in the entrance of the small hut, Starsnatch started talking.
"So you know how Witchra has always been like like different?" Without stopping for an answer or even a breath, Starsnatch continued. "Well Chianee's kittens have been teasing her. My little Witchra won't tell me what they said, but she has been been really depressed lately. I heard them teasing her, but I could only make out a few words, which I forgot."
That was Starsnatch. Always forgetful.
"Okay, so why did you ask me to come here, Starsnatch?" Cymite said tiredly, a headache pounding inside of her scull. She knew that whatever the problem that her friend was having, there was a 99.9% chance that she would be unable to solve it. And, when she was unable to solve a problem, Starsnatch would first bawl for a hour or so, and then badger Cymite for advice that she couldn't provide. Then, Starsnatch would resume her sobbing.
"Well, so you know how Witchra has always been like different? Well Chianee's kittens--" Starsnatch began.
"Oh!" Cymite interrupted, desperate to avoid hearing the story once more. "Yes, I heard that. She you want me to help you with Witchra getting teased?"
"Yes. Exactly. Positively," Starsnatch confirmed.
Then again, there was always that 0.1%.
"Well, why don't you watch them play without them knowing and, when they tease Witchra, you can confront them and tell them not to do that. If they still continue their taunting, then you should take the problem to the parent. Tell Chianee that her kittens are misbehaving and that you would like her to stop them."
"Sure. Okay. Fine. Got it. Righty-o..." Starsnatch replied.
While Starsnatch continued to go on and on with her response, needlessly saying different variations of 'sure', Cymite slipped out of the little hut that contained her chatty friend and her five cute kittens that were in impossibly playful moods, at the time.
*****
Once Cymite reached the river, she felt a bit better. She could see few shadows shunning the bright sunlight and the calming rush of the river roaring below her. She wanted to stay there for infinity and the oakwood bridge, enjoying the beauty of the river and its surroundings, but she knew that she could not. Anyway, this was not her ending destination. She would come here after she finished the business that was left unattended.
For now.
Cymite scampered over the bridge, ignoring the mice and birds that scuttled away from the pathway that she followed.
She blindly rushed forth, not paying attention to her surroundings. She thought about what she had to do, playing what she would do over and over in her head. She knew that it wouldn’t be as easy as it was to imagine it as it would be to do it.
It was not going to be easy at all.
So, Cymite raced onward. Then, while she continued the long journey, she remembered a little something of her past.
A few weeks after Cymite had been born, she had been taken away from her mother and siblings. A fox had picked her up in its mouth, thinking of her as its prey.
The hungry fox carried her to its burrow, but desperate to return to her mother, she rushed out of the fox’s home and into the unknown world. She searched and searched to her mother and brothers and sisters, she called out for them and looked for her home, but, no matter how hard she tried, she could locate no one.
But the fox had carried her far away from her home.
And, no matter how loudly she called, how hard she searched, and how far she walked, she could not find her way home. She could not find her loving family.
She was distraught. For, young Cymite was lonely. She was forlorn. She was detached from the only cats that she loved. And she was lost.
Young Cymite looked for the entire day, without any result whatsoever. She shed her tears that night, alone inside of an ancient, rotting, termite-infested log. Through her tears, she could see the moon rising from its nestled home beyond the endless indigo mountains that seemed to be light years away. And, sobbing, she cried herself to sleep.
When young Cymite awoke, all seemed the same, until noon. The moment her shadow drifted beneath her, a beautiful gray she-cat seemed to appear in front of her.
Cymite gasped when she saw the much bigger cat before her. Afraid, little Cymite asked, stuttering from the overwhelming fear, “Who-who are you?”
The she-cat told her that there was nothing to fear. She told her that her name was Clorfly, and that she was the leader of the Group of Majic and Rescue. The Group of Majic and Rescue, Clorfly explained, helped cats in need of help. They rescued any cat that was being threatened in any way, usually by Biclaw. Biclaw, Clorfly continued, was an evil mastermind with one medal paw with two, extra long, silver claws. He was the leader of the Demon Cats, also known as the
Dragonstone Cats, which would constantly and relentlessly attack the island that they stood on: Rapture.
Juvenile Cymite was intrigued by these cats. The Group of Majic and Rescue were such admirable cats....
Clorfly saw the determination in the young cat’s eyes. She offered Cymite to join the Group of Majic and Rescue.
Cymite, happily surprised, excepted, profusely thanking Clorfly all the way down the path (the same pathway that she was taking at this very moment)and to the most wonderful world that the cosmos could behold. It was too beautiful for her to look upon, thought Cymite breathlessly. And she trained for the rest of her life, until, one day, she became a Sunete, the lowest ranking for The Cats.
And that day had changed Cymite’s life forever.
Cymite looked up, her thoughts interrupted by the sad call of a lonesome songbird. All around her was chard earth, scorched plant life, and scattered stones. A solo mouse squeaked pitifully and scrabbled away from Cymite. She breathed in a deep breath of cold, foul-smelling air. Then she let it out. She was hear.
“Okay,” Cymite said aloud to herself, determination dominating her voice. “It’s time I did something that I should have done a long time ago.”
She took another deep breath. The icy air blew past her sharp white teeth and chilled her gums. With every exhale, the stench of her surroundings seemed to get more and more overwhelming. It burned in her nose and its terrible tang sat, unforgotten on her tongue. She wished that this wasn’t the place she had to do this, but there wasn’t much choice. She exhaled. Inhaled. Exhaled.
Okay. She was ready.
“Time to do this,” Cymite told herself. She needed to be confident. If this didn’t work out....She didn’t even want to think about it. Confidence. Okay. The time was right. If she was ever going to do this, she’d better do it now.
She was confident.
She was going to do this, no matter what the consequences were.
She was ready.
She looked up, her green eyes shadowed by the darkness of the shady, dirty place. She took another breath and released it. “Time to see who I really am.”
The words echoed through her head.
She stepped forward. The sodden earth parted as her paw pressed it. An air of confidence surrounded her, despite the fact that she was violently shaking.
Cymite looked down at her paws. “Okay,” she breathed. “Time to see what I can do.”
-KittyLover8
© 2012
For now.
Cymite scampered over the bridge, ignoring the mice and birds that scuttled away from the pathway that she followed.
She blindly rushed forth, not paying attention to her surroundings. She thought about what she had to do, playing what she would do over and over in her head. She knew that it wouldn’t be as easy as it was to imagine it as it would be to do it.
It was not going to be easy at all.
So, Cymite raced onward. Then, while she continued the long journey, she remembered a little something of her past.
A few weeks after Cymite had been born, she had been taken away from her mother and siblings. A fox had picked her up in its mouth, thinking of her as its prey.
The hungry fox carried her to its burrow, but desperate to return to her mother, she rushed out of the fox’s home and into the unknown world. She searched and searched to her mother and brothers and sisters, she called out for them and looked for her home, but, no matter how hard she tried, she could locate no one.
But the fox had carried her far away from her home.
And, no matter how loudly she called, how hard she searched, and how far she walked, she could not find her way home. She could not find her loving family.
She was distraught. For, young Cymite was lonely. She was forlorn. She was detached from the only cats that she loved. And she was lost.
Young Cymite looked for the entire day, without any result whatsoever. She shed her tears that night, alone inside of an ancient, rotting, termite-infested log. Through her tears, she could see the moon rising from its nestled home beyond the endless indigo mountains that seemed to be light years away. And, sobbing, she cried herself to sleep.
When young Cymite awoke, all seemed the same, until noon. The moment her shadow drifted beneath her, a beautiful gray she-cat seemed to appear in front of her.
Cymite gasped when she saw the much bigger cat before her. Afraid, little Cymite asked, stuttering from the overwhelming fear, “Who-who are you?”
The she-cat told her that there was nothing to fear. She told her that her name was Clorfly, and that she was the leader of the Group of Majic and Rescue. The Group of Majic and Rescue, Clorfly explained, helped cats in need of help. They rescued any cat that was being threatened in any way, usually by Biclaw. Biclaw, Clorfly continued, was an evil mastermind with one medal paw with two, extra long, silver claws. He was the leader of the Demon Cats, also known as the
Dragonstone Cats, which would constantly and relentlessly attack the island that they stood on: Rapture.
Juvenile Cymite was intrigued by these cats. The Group of Majic and Rescue were such admirable cats....
Clorfly saw the determination in the young cat’s eyes. She offered Cymite to join the Group of Majic and Rescue.
Cymite, happily surprised, excepted, profusely thanking Clorfly all the way down the path (the same pathway that she was taking at this very moment)and to the most wonderful world that the cosmos could behold. It was too beautiful for her to look upon, thought Cymite breathlessly. And she trained for the rest of her life, until, one day, she became a Sunete, the lowest ranking for The Cats.
And that day had changed Cymite’s life forever.
Cymite looked up, her thoughts interrupted by the sad call of a lonesome songbird. All around her was chard earth, scorched plant life, and scattered stones. A solo mouse squeaked pitifully and scrabbled away from Cymite. She breathed in a deep breath of cold, foul-smelling air. Then she let it out. She was hear.
“Okay,” Cymite said aloud to herself, determination dominating her voice. “It’s time I did something that I should have done a long time ago.”
She took another deep breath. The icy air blew past her sharp white teeth and chilled her gums. With every exhale, the stench of her surroundings seemed to get more and more overwhelming. It burned in her nose and its terrible tang sat, unforgotten on her tongue. She wished that this wasn’t the place she had to do this, but there wasn’t much choice. She exhaled. Inhaled. Exhaled.
Okay. She was ready.
“Time to do this,” Cymite told herself. She needed to be confident. If this didn’t work out....She didn’t even want to think about it. Confidence. Okay. The time was right. If she was ever going to do this, she’d better do it now.
She was confident.
She was going to do this, no matter what the consequences were.
She was ready.
She looked up, her green eyes shadowed by the darkness of the shady, dirty place. She took another breath and released it. “Time to see who I really am.”
The words echoed through her head.
She stepped forward. The sodden earth parted as her paw pressed it. An air of confidence surrounded her, despite the fact that she was violently shaking.
Cymite looked down at her paws. “Okay,” she breathed. “Time to see what I can do.”
-KittyLover8
© 2012
Sunday, September 2, 2012
New Image: Intro
Beyond the horizon,
The image is clear,
Beyond the shadow's eyes,
You will see....
A picturesque world,
A world fit for a god,
A land of the cosmos,
A dream world.
And join our friends,
Join them, all three,
On an endless journey,
To find a new image.
So, flip the {digital} page.
-KittyLover8
© 2012
The image is clear,
Beyond the shadow's eyes,
You will see....
A picturesque world,
A world fit for a god,
A land of the cosmos,
A dream world.
And join our friends,
Join them, all three,
On an endless journey,
To find a new image.
So, flip the {digital} page.
-KittyLover8
© 2012
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)