It had been a few months since the strays had been taken away. I was lonely in the mansion by myself. My owners thought I was sick whenever I moped around, because I’m almost always cheerful. I was taken to the vet numerous times, and each time they just gave me vitamins. I wasn’t rebelling or anything… I mean…I TRIED my best to get over it. I even attempted to make friends with the other felines that lived nearby. But it didn’t work. They were all spoiled and most of the time they would just try to “out do” each other by listing all the fancy things they’re owners owned. I didn’t really care for that, so I stopped meeting with them.

The house was lonely during the day. My owners had no children or anything living in the house. They had some maids working for them, and they would occasionally pat me and stroke me, but they were usually busy doing deeds for the owners, which I understood completely. I didn’t expect them to spend their whole day petting the household’s cat. That’s not what they’re paid for.

One day, things changed. Not just a little…but a lot. In fact, that day changed my life. I was sitting in my oversized cat bed that night after supper when I heard a commotion downstairs. Being bored and all, I rushed downstairs and looked into the living room. As soon as I looked down the stairs, I saw the couch…ablaze. The whole living room was on fire. I panicked…I couldn’t find my owners! I looked around the back of the house to try and warn them. In the kitchen was a banging noise. I quickly jumped out the front door and went to the kitchen window. I looked inside and saw a man with a black mask on his face holding a torch. The house had been broken into and the burglar had started setting it on fire. I set my foot in the window to climb in to see if I could help my owners, but just as a I did, the man in black slammed the window shut…right on my paw.

“OUCH! You stupid brute!!”

I yelled from outside, though it did no good. I watched helplessly as he harassed my owners. Half of the house was engulfed. I decided that I was going to have to find another way inside. I jumped off the window and marched towards the backdoor, but just as I did, I heard two blood curdling screams. My owners were no longer. I carefully tip toed over to the small fence and sat perched upon it, watching my beautiful room being burned down. I began to cough from the smoke.

The fire department finally made it there and I watched as they stopped the inferno. I was tired and felt awful. My paw was throbbing and I was coughing my head off. One of the guys looked over at me.

“Well, what should we do with this cat, ‘ere?”

“Take ‘er to the pound.”

My ears shifted in the defensive position. For a moment I thought to myself, act like you have rabies and they’ll leave you alone! But then I realized, when I start acting crazy they’ll just shoot me. It looked like it was to the pound for me. The guy left to go back to the station to call the pound after the fire was put out. I looked at the door and then down at my collar. I ripped it from my neck and threw it to the ground.

“OUT WITH THE OLD, IN WITH THE NEW!, I shouted. “I’m tired of this life, so I’m starting a different one! I’m no longer going to be the cat from high society.

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