Arthritis

Day 1

There is a white, powdery substance in my food this morning. I wonder if this is only the first time I have noticed it and if Master has been poisoning my breakfast with this concoction for months. It could explain the now constant ache in my bones that I did not feel last winter. Or perhaps this is the work of Master's small minions, which he and his housemaid call "the children". Those pesky creatures that look like miniature humans but continue to grow in size (rounder in the case of the male minion) through the years. I've yet to find the machine that created these demonic minions but I grow more and more convinced that they are the cause for this suspicious turn of events.

My growling stomach betrays me and I nose around the white powder, careful to eat only the unblemished pieces of meaty delight. I feel a presence behind me and my hair stands on end. I turn my face to see the housemaid watching me with a frustrated expression on her face.

"You must eat all of it!" she implores, pointing one large, bejeweled claw in the direction of my dish.

Never.


Day 2

The white powder is in my food again. But this time, the housemaid has stirred it into my feast. It will be impossible to eat without risking my life. I turn my nose away from the poison and ignore the rumble of my hunger.


Day 4

I am wasting away to a mere shell of the ferocious and majestic feline that I once was. The ache in my bones nags my mind and my stomach twists with hunger pains. If only my mother could see me now. Master and his housemaid give me worried looks and I triumph at their confusion. I hear their whispers when they think I am asleep. We'll have to force him and if he doesn't eat then we'll have to bring him to the vet. Over my dead body.

I wonder... Who should I leave my beloved mouse toy to when I pass?


Day 5

Master's Jester, my sworn enemy, is mocking me from across the kitchen. He slobbers around his unaltered food with embarrassing glee, leaving me to despair in a cloud of famished jealousy. The jester has always been one to show not even the slightest sense of decorum, strutting around the house and playing slave to the Master and his pack by obeying their every command with a destructive wag of his monstrous tail and earsplitting bark. Our difference in rank was made clear from the beginning. While the Jester receives treats by performing demeaning tasks like rolling over for the minions and shaking hands (Puh! This is truly the worst offense) with the housemaid, I need only rub myself lovingly across their legs to receive a scratch and tasty fish chew. I know the Jester envies the ease with which I command respect, for he is quick to push himself between me and my Master when he is watching his moving pictures in the evening. 

No doubt the fool is in on this plot to end my life. He has likely turned the Master and housemaid against me.

I blame my next actions on the decay of my mind caused by days without food and my adamant refusal to indulge in the poisonous courses set before me. I muster up the strength in my aching body to face down my adversary and demand answers to the cause of my suffering before I part this wretched tomb that is my life. I extend my front legs, hooking my claws and dragging my body across the smooth, cold tiles. I finally drag myself up to the Jester and swat at the brute's face with my claws extended.

TELL ME WHY!

The Jester only cries out and backs away from his food, looking at me with hurt confusion on his face. A likely ruse! With strength that I did not know I still possessed, I throw myself at the fool, hissing madly and swiping my pointy weapons at his face, legs... Wherever I can reach!

Suddenly big hands reach down and grab me around the middle. I freeze, unsure of what monster has captured me... I turn around... It is MASTER! I am ashamed of my behavior but manage to capture a twinkle of triumph in the Jester's eyes.

Woe is me.


Day 10

I am on my fifth day of consuming the white powder and have seen the error in my ways. Master and the housemaid were not trying to kill me but to REJUVENATE MY NINE LIVES! After my humiliating debacle with the Jester, I was rushed to the vet. I heard him explaining about the white powder called "medicine" and how I would surely die if I did not begin eating it with my food.

I have been struck with a malady called "arthritis" and the white powder helps bring life back to my sore bones. I attempted to apologize to my Master by bringing him a tribute of five dead mice. While he did not seem pleased with this offering, I can only continue to serve him as his loyal companion to the end of existence.

The past few days of bliss have been spent on deciding how I will repay the beastly Jester for his trickery and fake cries of pain during my interrogation. I will have my revenge.