The Hunter

I went to my favorite window spot, the double glass doors located in the kitchen. The double glass doors that led out into the lush open land I so longed to dig my nails into. I fixated my gaze on the little I could see of the forest in the backyard. How I desperately needed to take just a whiff of those tiny pink flowers placed haphazardly throughout a bush. I am a hunter. The forest is where I belong.
“Graham!!” my daze was immediately shattered when my guardian’s voice echoed throughout the captive center, “Oohh Graaaaham!”

Graham. That’s what they call me. It doesn’t matter if I like or not because it’s not like I had a say in the naming decision anyway. I got used to it, so I guess I’ll have to accept it.

I sauntered over to my guardian whom I’m supposed to refer to as my mother. She’s obviously an idiot if she expects me to believe we are related. I walk over to that green plastic bowl filled with mushy who knows what. I take in a whiff. Smells like fish. I nibble on the wet mysterious chunks as the male offspring decides it is acceptable to pet me while I eat. I feel his sweaty palms stroke the fur I had worked so hard to clean this morning. What wonderful eating conditions. I should be outside where I could have captured some fresh meat, maybe one of those field mice running around, and devoured it while inhaling the scent of those tiny pink flowers. But here I am, trying to chew with a sweaty palm knotting my fur.

Once I have finished eating all I have been given to survive, I casually stroll over to the kitchen table and curl myself in a ball underneath. It’s one of the few safe places I can take a nap in. Any open area makes me an easy target for the beast. He’s huge, around 100 pounds, brown, and is the biggest idiot of them all. He thinks we are supposed to play with each other or something, constantly trying to sniff my butt with his slimy wet nose. It’s an invasion of my space really, which is why I don’t understand why he expects me to respond to it acceptingly. Here under the table is a perfect haven, the chairs protect the surrounding area, sometimes blocking that unbearable stench emitting from his mouth, and the table serves as an overheard shield. This haven is also perfect for keeping watch of those doors. They open and close regularly as the guardians have the ability to freely choose when they exit and enter. I have tried a few times to exit through that door, but with no triumph. I’ve been nudged away by feet, snatched up in seconds by hands, or if I make it to the grass I’m chased by that beast until I am forced to return, helplessly in the embrace of my guardian. Still, I keep watch. Maybe one day I’ll make it to the forest; maybe one day I’ll get to smell those flowers instead of beast breath.

I heard the knob turn and my eyes split open in a half a second. My guardian strolled away from the open door, her hands full with plates of their human food. Imbecile. I darted from under the kitchen table and through the open frame. This was it. This was my chance! The breeze of fresh air swept through my fur as I raced through the grass, past the pool, and to the tall tress standing before me. The prickly blades of grass disappeared from in between my nails as I sunk into the dirt. At last, the forest. There was so much to take in. The faint buzzing of bees vibrated in my ear as I breathed in the scent of those pink flowers. MMMM.... sweet. My inner hunting skills kicked in immediately as an appetizing odor slid up into my nose. Ah, a mouse. My superb hunting instincts led me towards the tiny figure crouched under a bush, munching on some green substance in his claws. Only two feet away, I stretched out my front arms and sat back into my hind legs. I felt the hairs on my back shoot straight up as I bared my teeth.

Just as I was about to pounce, I heard that familiar rapid panting I have been forced to live with for years. I knew it was the beast. He barreled over to me through the bushes, tripping the whole way through. What a clown, he can’t even hold his own enormous body. I teared further into the forest, but the idiot kept following me. I knew I couldn’t outrun him, his strides were twice the length of mine. It was time to hide. I cut to the right, throwing the fool off course, and slid under a shrub. I just needed to stay under there long enough for him to become distracted by the nearest squirrel.

Then I felt those familiar sweaty palms scoop me up from behind. I guess my peripheral instincts are getting rusty from all those years being held captive.
“Graham!” the male offspring shouted, piercing my ear drums, “Thank God the dog got you in time!”
“You found Graham?” I heard my guardian call from “my home”.
“Yup! Hershey helped me!” yelled the offspring.
“YAY good job Hershey!”
“Who’s a good boy? Hershey is!”

Curled up in his arms, I was powerless as they cheered for the beast. The fool was trotting behind us, his head held high and his drooling tongue flopping around 6 inches out of his mouth. What a disgusting fool. You have to be truly dumb to willingly return back to this captive center where they feed you unknown substances and leave freely as you are forced to stay inside. They caught me this time, but I will prevail. I am a hunter. I belong out there. A place where real meat awaits me and fresh scents fill the natural breeze of the air. I am an hunter, and I will be free someday.