Without checking the Cat Fancy style sheet, or really investigating the micro category of anthropomorphic cat tales told from the cat's point of view, I feel the need to contribute something to the genre.
I'm Chanel. They call me a bunch of variations: 'Chanukuli'...etc. The humans are very inventive with sounds, but I pay attention only when I feel like it. I'm a cat. Besides, Pam Bent It Johnson says they shouldn't do that. It only confuses us. Yeah. Whatever. I'm a cat. A word about myself: I was brought to this place from a worse place after terrible things happened to me. I keep hearing words like 'shelter cat' and 'meezer.' Whatever. I'm a cat. For awhile it was good in this place. Not great. Good. Food supply, adequate. Sometimes I get pieces of odd meat. I have my own furniture, and I like the way the human furniture has a covering that I can climb up and sharpen my claws on. Sometimes the humans spit at me with some force. It happens when they grab an object that they hold. If they don't have the object, they don't spit. It's only sometimes that holding the object makes the spit. Why take chances, you know what I mean? I see the object, I watch the human, I decide to stay or make a run for it. Sometimes I get caught. The human furniture is convenient and some of it just begs for clawing. Did I mention, I'm a cat? Anyway, like I said, it was ok here. There's a drinking fountain thing. Humans actually climb into or sit on theirs. Weird. Fascinating. I keep looking into this. Curiosity might kill me, but I'm a cat. Satisfaction might "bring me back."
It used to be there were other cats in a place I can only go unless I'm tortured with straps first. Like I said, not great, just ok here. It used to be that one of these cats, a huge black beauty they took to calling Mumbai for some reason, would rub face on barriers and stink everything up. When in the strap, in the forbidden place where things smell good and there is sometimes a wind that brings the information that I like to get, this Mumbai used to come right up. I always got picked up. Hate that! All I wanted was a snort. In the bad place before, I had another cat, and thought other cats were ok. Not great. Just ok. I'm a cat. This Mumbai was outside (as they call it) and I was inside. I once or maybe twice put my nose to the space between the barrier and got whapped in the nose by a big black paw. I suspect Mumbai. Smelled of her. But hey, she's a cat.
Then she started getting in to one of the spaces near the barrier. Stunk it up totally. Then, all of a sudden she was in a different space, one I liked, one with a harder floor and funny smells, and one that was open to me only sometimes. Again, with my nose in the barrier space, I got whacked. I'm thinking this Mumbai is trouble. But hey, she's a cat, I'm a cat. First chance I get, I get into the big space down the ladder thing and I catch this Mumbai sitting ON the stinkier of the two humans. I can't believe it! I hate that lap sitting nonsense! I try to get in for a closer look, approaching warily, because of being a cat and seeing another bigger cat, and all, but before I can even get all the way around my path, I see a blur of black coming at me and I scream and peel out. I didn't make it. I got thrown on my back and peed on before I could wriggle away and run up the ladder. You know how that makes a cat feel! That another cat could be so fast and nasty. It makes a cat think.
Now when I see that Mumbai, I hiss. It's war. We're a couple of cats!
She got me again! This time, while on my back getting the golden shower, I clawed all four paws and just showed them. That black devil trotted off! Next time we connect, I'm going to use those claws. There will be fur. There will be screams, there will be no mercy. I'm Chanel. A cat!
