A Most Traumatizing Experience

I am the furry one my mommy loves so much. She calls me Beatrice at times, but whatever.

I have been through a very scary experience, and it’s not over yet!

Two days ago, mommy got up as usual and started putting things into a big bag. I like big bags, you can sleep on them and hide inside. I didn’t get what she was doing. All of a sudden, she grabbed me and tried putting me into The Cage! We all know that cages are no fun at all to be in. Usually, when she does that, she takes me to some weird guy who puts things into my butt and keeps touching me all over. Weirdo.

In spite of my fighting very hard, she managed to put me into the cage. I meowed as a giant-not my mommy-took me downstairs, but it was all in vain.

I was put on top of another cage, and I’m certain there was another furry one inside that one.

We then spent hours and hours going through many unknown smells. I slept a little, but I must say I was quite scared and often was startled out of my anxious rest.

We finally arrived in a land I had never explored before. There were a lot of scary giants and I hid under a couch.

Mommy managed to get me out of there and put me into what I assume to be her bedroom.

Since that day, I have met two furry things. One of them is an enormous cat. I know him. I’ve seen him before and I can guarantee it’s him. The same fatness, the same smell, the same dislike of my poor furry self.

The other one is of an unknown species. It walks on all four, as is proper to do, and my instinct keeps telling me to run away. A very strange thing it is. Mommy keeps telling me it’s nice. How could such a scary thing be nice?


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