Stort Stories of a Random Nature

If his mother could see the condition of the house, she would have burst into tears. Or rather burst to a fever of feline affection amidst the kibble and crunched newspaper with a plaintive wail of despair.

Tibbles set his claws onto the cardboard box.

He had despised the others. All that mewling, bright-eyes and perky ears business was utter nonsense. They were sell-outs, vying for the attention of those hairless, bowlegged apes, all hoping for the sound of ‘aw, how cute’ before being airlifted and squashed into a choke hold against somebody’s bosom.

He made prompt work of the first cardboard flap, enough to get a paw through. Not enough for a head. He kept scratching.

He had despised them all, held them in contempt, refusing to be part of their despicable ploy. Yet, why was he the one trapped in box that reeked of oranges being carried away to God knows where? He didn’t even like oranges! He put his canines to work, ripping the flap away.

Good, now for escape.

He poked his nose out, readying his haunches for a surprise get away. Those bow-legged monkeys would never know what hit them! He made to pounce—

And felt the hands close around his belly, lifting him free of the ground in a whirl of ground, sky and monkey. No! He was to be a fierce beast of the urban jungle, prowling through the night, silent as the wind! Not some fluffy, bell ridden house cat! He squirmed, kicking his legs as the arms cradled him.

A hand fell over his head. Rubbing between his ears.

Oh, this was… quite nice. Very nice indeed.

The hand stopped.

Tibbles dug in his claws.

The hand stroked again.

Now this was quite civilised.

No! They couldn’t turn him over to the dark side! He must endure! He thought of the others who had fallen. Endure for their sake!

The hand shifted under his chin with a small scratch.

Perhaps he could stay a little while. The others hadn’t mentioned this “new home” came with a personal slave. If his mortgage consisted of a few well-placed bites to get them trained, some mewling and a few free massages, perhaps he could launch a secret investigation.

Yes, a secret operation! Undercover. Deep undercover.

He began to purr.