At my father's house I have a young yellow tabby who swears he is a reincarnated lion, named Mango. He is what I like to call a "paw-in-paw-out" cat. He only comes by when he decides that we--my family and I--are allowed to shower him in affection, or simply when he's hungry. Otherwise, he roams wherever he pleases, living the quiet carefree life of a "domesticated" cat.

 He can commonly be found meowing incessantly behind the front door in order to be let inside, waiting patiently by his food bowl, tormenting our ill-tempered oldest cat--Dusty--who is secretly jealous of all the attention that Mango is getting, or stealing the bed from our German short-haired pointer--Bandit--who is his best friend. He walks around like he is the king of this castle, and honestly, he's right. He has everyone around here waiting on him whisker and paw, out of a mixture of fear and awe. 

 The other night I had decided that the weather was perfect for relaxing under the gazebo lights and letting a light breeze fan over me as I enjoyed the gentle lullaby of nature sounds. Time froze and all was still, but that peaceful atmosphere soon came crashing down in an instant. A snap, a crack, a crunch, a swoosh. The sounds of an animal lurking in the shadows, so close yet so far away.

 I was so startled out of my little haze that I shot straight up and surveyed the area like a paranoid lunatic, in search of what had just broken the peaceful state I was in only to find the overgrown grass slowly being parted. Upon seeing this I immediately recoiled into my chair, lightly shaking from the idea of all the possibilities of what this unknown creature could be. A possum? A raccoon? Maybe even the elusive fox? My mind was going insane. My overactive imagination being fed by the tempting and terrifying darkness of nighttime that enveloped my entire being at that very moment. 

 My eyes never left the slowly parted trail of the overgrown grass of the backyard. I had no idea if this was of my own doing or if it was tunnel vision set into place by the adrenaline pumping through my veins, which only encouraged my paranoia. However, I had no intention of going against my instincts which this creature was clearly following as well. 

 The way this animal made its way through the grass, going in an almost complete circle, closing in on its prey ever so slowly in order to prevent itself from being discovered, sparked my interest. It was as though I had stumbled upon and been granted exclusive access to watch a sacred ritual only meant for the eyes of certain individuals. It radiated an eerie sense of being watched and vulnerability to the unknown animal, as though I was the intended prey instead of whatever lurked within those obscure blades. How could something yet to be seen, evoke such anxiety and worry? 

 Then out of nowhere: a hiss, a leap, and a flash of gold flooded my system and reawakened the part of me that had been frozen in place with a fervent stare trained at the once parted grass. I soon recognized the familiar striped coat as it resurfaced time and time again, in pursuit of the runaway prey. The wild roots of lions and tigers embedded in the DNA of modern  house cats becoming evident right before my very eyes as though I was watching a nature documentary of the safari. 

 All of my attention in that moment was devoted to following my golden tabby's every move like how a cat's gaze follows the mesmerizing dot of a laser pointer. My head whipped back and forth for what seemed like ages before finally halting, and staring directly ahead of myself as I saw my youngest pet leap at me causing my eyes to grow wide in anticipation for what was to come and my body to flinch as he landed at my feet with a skid of friction between fur and cement. Between his small and deceivingly sweet fluffy paws he clutched a squirming critter that I assumed was the cause of this entire grand performance, that was new to me but was probably a daily routine for him by now.

 I watched with morbid curiosity as he firmly planted both paws on the ground and slowly lifted them up, just enough for the mystery animal, which happened to be a lizard, to crawl its way out, or so it thought, from the clutches of death. However, just before it could get away, he slammed both paws back down on it again and dragged it back to him, showing no signs of mercy but instead a malicious way of toying with his food in order to make it suffer before it's eaten. He then let instinct take over and bit down on its neck, shaking his head rapidly for a couple seconds, letting the poor little lizard's body flail around in the air until it was confident that it was dead.

 Once it was dead he slowly walked towards me, gently dropped it by my feet, and sat down looking up at me proudly with his hypnotic pupils blown wide and beckoned me to accept his gift as a sign of affection. I was not about to touch the dead, mutilated, corpse of the lizard so I instead opted for a scratch behind the ear, and soon he was back to his normal loving self, purring like an engine.

 Cats are many things but consistent is not one of them. Their moods and personalities change almost as fast as life does. The only thing you can count on in this disaster of a world is change. No one stays the same, and we all grow into the people that we are meant to be through experiences, whether good or bad. Sometimes I wish I could live the care free, double life of a cat, that is part wild animal that can never be fully domesticated, and part house cat that wastes its days away napping and eating as much food as possible. Living every one of my nine lives to the absolute fullest in accordance to my wants and needs. Either way, whether it is for the better or for the worst it is constantly happening, and if nothing else, cats can be seen as a sort of training course for the unpredictability of the world.