The ground was dirtier than usual as I walked in the dark, gloomy street.
My stomach felt like someone was squeezing it from the inside, my throat felt dry and my head was aching. The last time I ate was when the sun just came up, and I miraculously found a half-eaten sandwich in one of my standard trash cans.
The night warm breeze brushed over my back. I wandered through the street, looking for a sign, a scent, of something to pacify my stomach. And suddenly I found a trace of smell coming from behind a fence.
I jumped over and stared into the yard. The family left, on their backyard table, three plates of fish pieces, only a third eaten each. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. My whole body had a near orgasmic experience just looking at so much food. The window looking at their backyard was wide open and lit, so I had to be careful. I could not mess this up.
Very quietly and surreptitiously I walked forward, walking behind bushes and doing everything I can to not be seen. Finally, I got to the plates. I was staring at the fish, and the sight of his white flesh moistened my throat, and I thanked the mother of this fish for birthing it, the fisherman for fishing it, the family for buying it, and most of all, the family for leaving it here just for me.
And just when I almost touched the fish, a mortifying bark alarmed the residents of the house. Their dog howled and growled like crazy, and they came to see what happened.
“Shoo! Shoo! Go away! Those damn cats”, was their response, as usual, as I ran for my life, jumped over the fence, and was back exactly where I started. My fur was itchy for a while and my back was arched in anxiety as I tried to calm down. My claws stuck out in defense as I cleaned myself, preparing for another miserable attempt to survive.