Decker - Cat & Nick Hunt - 19th Century Amateur
Call me Decker. Here I am ensconced on my person’s lap (Nicholas Hunt). My companion Black and a small female princess cat, Mitts, live here with me in considerable comfort and style.
Our people (staff) do our bidding and accommodate us on the club chairs, couches, and their laps. They feed us canned cat food which is pretty good although frankly not much of a variety. We really prefer our meat warm and wiggling. We have a very happy hunting ground right behind the blackberries; some days we score 3 or 4 bunnies each and our people applaud, though less enthusiastically I’ve noticed, if the bunnies are deposited on the rug in the living room. When I’ve killed I yowl; they know instantly that it’s the kill yowl and day or night they leap up to stop me from bringing in the poor bleeding creature. We eat everything except the tail and spleen. When I’ve had my fill I saunter away and leave the rest for the other cats.
I know that I am the favourite because when I call and caterwaul for fresh food, it’s done right away. Kibbles get dry so quickly and I do not like them dry. If I am late for breakfast I know it will be kept for me. Once I even had it presented al fresco when I was lounging in the garden. I know how to arrange myself decorously in line of sight, know that my people will notice and smile and say lovingly, “look at that cat!”
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