Pets are such a big part of our lives, but do you ever guess what they are thinking? Each week, I will take a different pet and write their “inner thoughts.”
“Figaroooooo!” I hear. I run and I say that’s me that’s me! Rahhhhhh! They love me! Oh do you want me for pats? Or for eating ice cream? Or for my presence? I don’t care, I am here and I am vocal. I love my name, and I will always come. I am my mommy’s baby born and raised and I miss my dad but my big brother is here and my sister too. And my younger brother is here now and he just loves messing with me. Well, they all do. Especially that adopted cat and the older cat. I am quick to change my mood. I’m still a big kitten, you know? I can have temper tantrums, it’s all cool. Just leave me alone because as I storm down the hallway I will lash out and hiss and go neeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Or I lash out at Phoebe street cat because she just irks me. It’s cool, my family know I best and love me best…but when they give too much attention to her, I get mad. See, my favorite things are attention, wet bath hair, strutting, ice cream, and being outside. I don’t always get those things, so I need to make a scene every once in a while. Same goes with those fun toys. I pretend I not watching but I look and hope he notices me and not her. “Figaroooo! Fa-guy-oo! Figgy-yo-yo! Figgy! Figsy wigsy! Figgy row row row!” I come, just wait a second. Wait wait, who is that? I stop in my tracks. I think I am obsessed. My big brother brought a friend for me! A cat ally! An attention giver. She pet me like I like it and make me go “raoww raoww raoww!” and she never stop giving pats! I love her. She only care where I am in house. Sometimes I need to teach her to stay away when a cat is mad and I give a scratch or bite her head or put my claws in her skull or neck, but hey, she forgot about it because I am FIGARO and I am so cute. I strut down the hallway, tease my family with the allure of playtime, respond to my name perfectly, and chase around the house like my dog friend still here. At the risk of sounding bad, it’s great they forget my bad moments. Oh, and I almost forgot! I am hunter! I brought back some dead prey for my big brother once and I was so happy. That was when his door opened and I could come in every five seconds and leave right away! And somehow then I got out of house and I got hurt but it no matter when that girl come back. I get all better right away! My brother and that girl think I have two theme songs, because I so important. They sing: “Figaro, figaro, figaro…/Ehi, figaro, son qua/Figaro qua, figaro là…/Figaro su, figaro giù…/Ah, bravo figaro, bravo, bravissimo” because Rossini wrote it just for me! I pretend I do not care. They also say that Bohemian Rhapsody was for me, but in secret. I mean, this is obviously for me: “Galileo, Galileo/Galileo, Figaro – magnificoo” but less obviously, so is this: “I’m just a poor boy, I need no sympathy,/Because I’m easy come, easy go.” Now that I think about this, yeah, they are pretty much obsessed with me. Never stop, am I right? Always give pats and say my name and be perfect for me. Rahhhhhh!! Or the next second I go neeeeeeeeee!