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Stupid Stinky Gerbil

I am a beautiful and wonderful cat, No other animal compares to me. Everyone in my house knows that. It’s so clear to see. Other animals wish they were me. I am the queen of this kingdom And I vanquish all my foes, The rodents that used to trespass my domain Are all dead and gone, as everyone knows. And now what I say goes. I get all the attention I get all the catnip and treats I get all the pets and scratches I get all the best spots on cozy seats. I get everything, my life’s complete. But one day, while I dream away Laying in a warm sun spot An enemy invades my kingdom. I wake up and see what the humans brought. I am disgusted by what they bought. The humans call it an “adorable gerbil.” But it’s obviously a rodent, can’t you see? Rodents are our sworn enemy. What is this insanity? What have you humans done to me? Now those silly children who used to serve me Try playing Wordle with the stupid gerbil. Those children would be better off Playing Wordle with a silly turtle Not a stupid...
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Venatus and the Indoor Prison IV

 

Venatus landed on a dead mouse that the cat had left by the balcony door. Other flies came. Venatus listened carefully to the songs of the birds, the chirping of the crickets, and the cawing of crows, and soon the buzzing of flies as they came to the meal. He basked in the warmth of the sun’s rays.

It was beautiful.

The door opened. The man, with a plastic bag in his hand, stepped out to get the mouse. The flies flew in all different directions. Some flew away towards the forest, others tried to land back onto the mouse before he could carry it off, but some other flies had other ideas.

“Let’s go inside,” a fly said to his two friends. “I bet they have some good stuff in there!”

“No!” Venatus said. “The humans will—”

The flies flew in, and the human disappeared back into the house with the dead mouse in a plastic bag.

“Ugh, not more flies!” he heard the girl cry, and he saw a flash of the red fly swatter.

An image of Buster flashed into his mind. Venatus shook his head and flew to the garden, landing on a sunflower. Caw, caw, the crows went. He didn’t want to think about what would happen to those flies, or about what had happened to Buster. Instead, he observed the sunflower, and, for the first time, enjoyed the cawing of crows.

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