Fri 16, Mar, 2018
I knew this day would come. They’ve begun to secure the door at night to keep me in my room. The other day, they discovered a very small pile of stomach contents that I left in the big couch room. I don’t understand why it caused such a stir; it was just a small spot on the rug. I may have knocked over a vase, too, but that’s no reason for them to get testy. Anyway, I guess it was too much for them, because they started sliding some sort of spacer under the door to my room so that I can’t reach my paw under it. I’ve come to recognize and accept that they know me well; but they don’t know everything. I am an enigma; a riddle of mysteries bundled under this furry exterior. All cats have secrets that cannot be known by human kind. Before I discovered the secret of escaping at night, being sequestered in my room left me no option but to explore it more thoroughly, upon which I discovered the computer. One of them sits at a desk in my room most of the time, and the computer gets left on at night. Once, out of curiosity, I stroked the blank square of the screen, which illuminated and responded to the contact of my paw. Very interesting. I learned through observation, and as you read my confessions, you know how adept I have become at using the machine. It took some time, but I eventually also managed to set up a means of correspondence with which I could send and receive electronic letters. I had all but forgotten this feat, until my renewed quarantine left me to rediscover my previous isolated occupation.
When I found my way back through the wormhole of time and space and into my inbox, I discovered a letter waiting there for me. It read:
Dear Dr. Cheese,
Here in this land of frozen waters, the days are short and the winter long. Many a mouse have I caught, burrowing through the snow in an attempt to infiltrate the great, old barn which I commandeered for my own. The humans here are kind; they let me into the farmhouse to share the hearth and protect me from the bitter cold, although I find that my nights are still best spent under the shining moon in spite of the snow. I share this place with a dog, an amiable sort who would rather ignore me than be my friend, but I curl up next to her anyway in hopes of changing her outlook toward our people. I am, you see, an inter-species ambassador. It is arduous work, but honest, and most creatures are open to communication, with the exception of mice, whom I have found to be too self-involved to attempt amicable relations. There is a great hooty-owl who lives in the large Basswood tree here and we have developed an excellent rapport during our exchanges of wit and acumen. My life, while satisfactory in many ways, lacks feline communication. I have been following your narratives, and seeing as you are a doctor, I thought I would strike up a conversation and propose that we partake in discussions via these electronic letters from time to time. What say you?
Barnaby J. Barnes, Baron of the North
When I finished reading the letter, my whiskers were tingling. What a delightful surprise! An intellectual peer, come to liberate my mind from these solitary nocturnal doldrums. I dashed off a reply without hesitation:
Dear Lord Barnes,
I am glad to make your e-quaintance, as it were. I would very much like to continue this exchange; feel free to write whenever you have the time, and expect my response in due course. Much of my life here will already be familiar to you from my accounts of the adventures to which I am party. I expect you are anticipating dialogues of a more erudite and enlightened nature, which I would find very pleasant. I look forward to receiving such a letter.
Dr. Colby Jack Cheese
My reply sent, I leapt to my window bed and let my tail twitch with excitement. My humans think they’ve contained me in this room; but I cannot be contained. None of my people can. We are free spirits on this earth. To quote O’Shaughnessy, “We are the music makers. We are the dreamers of dreams.” His Ode is most assuredly inspired by cats. Read it for yourself; you’ll see that I’m right.