I used to walk one of my cats around on a leash.
His name was Tiger. I posted about him earlier here.
I would sit in a chair outside on summer days, and he would just walked around on his leash watching birds and catching grasshoppers.
Sometimes we would go for walks around the property, or to get the mail. He loved being outside.
But I think, if he kept a diary, then it would go something like this:
“Today I was taken outside on my chain. I tried multiple times to flex my predator instincts and go after the birds, but alas, my chain kept my indomitable power in check, and I was forced to hunt grasshoppers and chew on grass.
I will throw the grass up in the house later to exact my revenge.
Then my human takes hold of the chain and parades me around the fields of my home. I am the mighty Tiger! I should not be put to shame walking like a slave while my human checks the mail.
Oh look! A grasshopper! I must murder it!
As I was saying, it is beneath me to be paraded around like this, and tonight I will sleep at my human’s feet instead of next to her like I normally do, so that my disdain is palpable and makes her have bad dreams.”
Yes he was an arrogant kitty, and sadly he passed away earlier this year. But he lived a great pampered life and left me with wonderful memories. I am so glad he was a part of my life.
I raise my glass to your pets, dear readers.