Day 1 of Huck's Diary - the extract from "It's a cat life"

I was born in prison. I was then transferred to another facility, only to finally settle in what seems to be my final destination. I am not certain about this, because things change. That I have already learnt.

My name is Xenopherus, but they call me something that seems like a cough. This is why I don’t react and never will. They can say it as many times as they want. They will not crack me.

My mother’s name was Christophera, but they called her Lady. I hardly remember her, although she taught me several useful things. Firstly, that it pays to pee into a box filled with little stones and dust, which hoomans normally put somewhere on the floor. The reason for it is that, even though we’re prisoners, they serve us giving us food and regularly empty our toilets. Second thing she taught me was to never obey them. They get annoyed, but think we’re cute (they make me sick, really!). And if things get bad, my mother informed me, all we have to do is brush against their legs, and all is forgiven.

I had two brothers and one sister. I can’t remember their names now, but I do know this: they were a bunch of catastrophes, who always got in my way to get milk from my mother. However, I put up with them and played with them. Because it was family, after all.

They took me from my mother when I was only beginning to learn how to live on my own. They put me into a house with two other cats and two ordinary, dirty beasts, which should have been exterminated, if you ask me. They called them “nice doggies”. It still makes me sick.

Two other cats were old and nothing like my mother. They said I was the smallest and this was why I had to wait until they finished eating; only then I could have access to food. I understood this hierarchy, but didn’t agree with it. I stole their food whenever I could.

Then some other hoomans came and put me in a cage, and locked me – me! – behind bars. There was something warm inside; I quickly learnt it was a blanket. I kept meowing at them to let me out, but they refused to understand.

I don’t think they know our language; they keep saying random words in improper cat language from time to time, directed at me, but none of them make any sense and when I answer, they seem to ignore it.

However, they communicate using some primitive sounds; I am going to try discover their meanings to realise their weaknesses.

They kept feeding me snacks through the bars; I ate everything, of course, but I still didn’t like being locked up. Especially that it shook, it was dark and all I could see was a big hooman turning a big, black, round thing.

I still don’t know the purpose of this.

Then they brought me to my new jail. They let me out of my cage, and put me on a pillow.

It is a soft pillow (I am on it right now), and I am fairly satisfied with its texture.

I kept touching it with my front paws to see what I could make of it, which seemed to cheer the hoomans, so I stopped. 

They gave me food, too. It wasn’t great, but I ate it, because they didn’t give me much choice. I was looking for other cats, but there were none.

The worst part of it was that they kept staring at me, baring their fangs and making strange sounds to each other. Of course, I am interesting, but that was annoying. I still don’t know what they wanted.

Finally, they left me alone and I could get some sleep.

Right now I am alone, in the dark, as they locked themselves in another chamber. I meowed a bit, because I felt deeply insulted for being left alone, but the female only came out to tell me something I didn’t understand, put me back on my pillow, and went back to their cave.

I will wait until tomorrow to see what comes out of it. I may as well get some sleep to be strong enough to face them.

Oh, and I will wake them up at dawn. We’ll see how they like it.



Want to read more?  Huck's diary, also called "It's a cat life", is now available on Amazon (UK HERE / US HERE). I originally published it under the pen-name of "Monica Shostek".