Have you ever had a feeling that would not go away? Of course not. You are just a book and not a living being like myself.
Well, let me tell you, diary. It is no picnic. There are days when, no matter what I do, something just nags at me, eating away at me. I try everything, but there is no use.
Today, was one of those days. My belly would not stop itching.
It started early this morning. I was enjoying my morning kibble while watching the cat to make sure he keeps away from my dish. He poops in a box and scrapes dirt all over his feces. I am fairly sure that, when the world ends, it will be as a direct result of this cat’s germy, poo-infested paws. I have no interest in letting that near my dish.
Suddenly, I felt a sort of tingle on my belly. Then it got worse. Before long, I was in a nightmare of itching flesh, the tingle crawling all over my stomach. I glanced at the cat, wishing I had been nicer to him. I might be willing to waive my rule about his paws if he could get this itch to leave.
Instinctively, I began rolling all over the ground. I still cannot explain this urge. My back is what is touching the ground, yet I cannot help but squirm like a caterpillar on a hot sidewalk when these itches reach their fever pitch. There is no way this will ever solve a belly itch, though it does a great job of smoothing out any clumps in my back hair.
I had not choice but to go to the humans. They constantly dote on me and the woman calls me her “baby” frequently. I am not too sure that she understands how reproduction works, but this was no time to worry about her lack of basic mammalian knowledge. The itch was becoming overpowering. Before long, I would be unable to walk.
I ran to the man and tried to jump on his lap. He pushed me away and went back to tying his shoe. The words came out of his mouth.
“Not right now, Charlie.”
NOT RIGHT NOW?! After all I had done for him, he could not even take a few seconds to scratch my belly? He had no issues with this last night. In fact, he even called me on the couch, only adopting a harsh tone when I tried to share some of his food with him. I have issues with that, but we will talk about that some other day.
I had no choice. I dashed up the stairs to the woman. After all, I am her “baby.” If I have to call her “mommy” to get this itch to leave, so be it. Something, though, must happen.
She was getting dressed when I ran into the room. I ran around her feet, but she did not seem to notice. She was too busy staring at a shirt, no doubt wondering why humans had been subjected to this torturous world of clothing while the rest of God’s creature get to run free.
Next came the jumping. This almost always gets her. For some reason, trying to scale the woman’s leg seems to be the key to her attention. I scratched and pawed, but she just continued staring at the shirt. Another try and she delivered a quick and deliberate swat, forcing me off of her.
In most circumstances, I would have accepted defeat. In the direst of times, though, we are unable to give up. I played the last trick in my arsenal.
I am not particularly proud of it. In fact, I am darn ashamed. Sometimes, though you have to do something you are not proud of to reach your ultimate goal.
“Oh, you are so pathetic,” she said, giving my belly that one glorious scratch it needed.
Someday, I hope to live in a utopia where my belly will be scratched when needed. This day has not come yet, but who knows? It could happen.
There would also be no cats there. At the very least, they would be required to wear gloves at all times.