2/365 - Caged.
A part of the 365-work challenge.
- Caged.
About three things I was absolutely positive.
I know this isn't a good idea.
I wouldn't be too happy.
Not that it matters.
Why I'd agreed to get myself into this is beyond me. But it isn't for me to worry about.
You see, I am a lion. King of the Jungle. Well, you can call me Percival. Remember, it's Percival, and not Percy. I'm not meant to be cute.
So I'm sitting inside my cage. That's right, I'm behind bars. They borrowed me from my natural habitat. I don't know what for, but maybe they were needing protection. A mighty lion like myself can actually do some serious harm. That's if we wanted to.
I'm pretty much golden, but right now, I'm looking at a blue reflection of myself. I was placed in this dumb cage. Funny thing about humans is that they said I might come in handy in the future. Who are they kidding?
It took an awful lot of pawing to convince me I'm no longer golden. My mane is no longer red. I'm a solid color of blue. Electric blue. As though I'm ready to rave in a nightclub all night.
Really smart of these people, too. They began feeding me pellets. They smell nothing like raw meat. I know tuna when I smell it. And these round pieces of crap don't seem as promising. I cannot smell much, but it's like what I can smell from inside mouths of dogs. Gross.
I'd been bathed. It's really similar to what the elephants do. Except water jetted through this long hose with a metal rod at the end. The burst of water tickled me. I'd tried my best not to look too ticklish.
And they placed my food on some sort of dish. Like a platter. It looked like the same round balls to me. I lapped down my food. And ouch! Something bit back at my tongue.
Metallic tastes exploded in my mouth. It reminds me of the time I ate a deer. I don't know if it's just me, but I taste twice as nice. Maybe when I get sick of the crunchy biscuits they feed me, I'd just swallow myself. Starting with my tongue.
I let a howl. I wasn't really happy. But I howled anyway. My tongue still hurt. 'Ouch!'
I saw my humans do a high-five. My tongue recoiled when I howled. 'Ouch!'
They seemed really pleased with what sound I made.
"Hello, Mister Lion, ser."
'Hello, to you, too!'
"What's your name?"
'Percival.'
"Percy? Cute name. He understands us." They looked at each other in agreement.
'It's Percival.'
"OK, Percy."
In my vexation, I stuck a paw inside my throat and felt my tongue. It didn't hurt so much, but there's a scarab-like clip that bit onto my flesh.
So looking at myself in front of my mirror, I could hardly recognize myself. I didn't look anything like Percival. I hope this is just a bad dream. I do know I'd get laughed at, though. Because I'm laughing at myself.
I overheard an interesting conversation between my two keepers. It went a little like this.
"Five inferences?"
"OK, let's see. One, lack of balance. Two, he'd go berserk. What else?"
"Three, he'd die. Four, he won't be a cat anymore. Last one."
"What about nothing happens?"
"OK, fifth, nothing happens."
By the time they were done talking, they got back to me, and fed me few mouthfuls of the dog pellet.
I let out a purr when they started stroking my forehead. I wanted to bite, but I can't even open my mouth. I don't know where I'd stuff the hand they'd lost in my stomach, anyway. My purr sounded like a 'oh, that felt nice,' and 'please stroke me some more.'
Snip, snip. My whiskers were gone. One held the scissors, the other keeper still stroking my cheek.
A few things happened.
First, I'm still a cat. I purred some more, and pounced the zoo personnel. Both were scrambling away the moment after. I pounce. I purr. Ergo, I still am a cat. Got that?
I was then placed over a vault. Great fun, no? I used my guided paws to cross over. I felt like demanding applause when I made it to the other side. I ended it with a big leap. A big one. I landed on all fours. I still maintain a good sense of balance. So whatever.
They looked at me. Slapped my muzzle a little. Chances are they'd hurt their palms more than they caused me harm. No, I didn't go berserk. And I wasn't all that sensitive.
'Are you done experimenting yet?'
This confirmed one hypothesis. The other was immediately scrapped. I'm still alive. And nothing happened.
My whiskers took forever to grow. Back to a couple of inches. Hardly protruding from my cheeks. By this time, I'd been transported to a bigger cage. Blue lion angry for being kept in a pen. Then I thought of something ingenious.
My two humans were observing me. They backed a little, for the fear of me coming out of my bigger cage. Oops, my head poked out of the railing.
'Dinner is served.' My purr was laughter ringing in my ears.
I pushed and pushed. But somehow, I found myself locked by my shoulder blades. I simply wouldn't bunch.
My humans celebrated this. At least they wouldn't be swirling in my stomach as I digest them to juice.
As my cage was being drilled to free me, they began to talk.
"So whiskers determine if it's a go or a no-go."
"Apparently."
"How about we prepare him for our next experiment?"
My eyes widened. Somewhere in the process, they stopped talking, and stopped sawing the steel bars that held me in place. My eyes widened even more when I felt one of them inserting a finger inside my tight tailhole.