What’s it like to be a cat?

To laze around all day, plopping down in front of my owner to beg for a belly rub…

To come when the garage door opens to receive shelter foe the night…

To run when I hear the food bag shaken, alerting me to dinner being served…

To purr and knead as my person strokes my fur to show her eternal love…

To return to the wild at next dawn’s break to run and climb and lie in the warm sun…

To repeat again and again as I remain a prisoner to my person, never truly being free…

Yet, freedom is in the eyes of the beholder…

And I suppose, a pampered life is all I see…