Title: In The Eyes

Author: Eáránë Serágon

Rating: G

A/N : For my creative writing class, we were assigned to describe ourselves to the class in the eyes of our pets. This isn’t really what she had in mind, but I had fun with it anyhow.

It's such a wonderous thing that the age-old Egyptian tradition of worshipping cats still hasn't died in some places.

Lazily, I stretch across the large bed in which I'm lounging, not caring in the slightest when my human servent topples rather clumsily out of the bed due to simple lack of space. Now what could have taken up so much space, that it would cause my dear servent to fall out of MY bed?

'Well,' I thought as I stretched over my servent's warm indent she had left in the matress, 'I suppose we'll never know the answer to THAT...'

I watch with a catty smirk as the girl lifts herself up from the hardwood floor, running one of her tanned, rather mutated paws through her brown hair as she did so. I vaguely recall her mouth opening, and strange, garbled noises emerging from it, but I was far too emmersed in ignoring her to pay attention.

Oh no. Don't you dare.

Don't come any closer, servent! Back, demon, back!

I hiss slightly as she walks, if you could call that ambling, lurching motion she does on TWO paws WALKING, closer to me and my warm, comfortable bed. I feel myself being lifted out of my warm, comfortable paradise, and I claw at her bare arms weakly, much too tired and overall much too lazy to do anything else.

Why was she picking me up? Didn't she have anything ELSE to do with her time? Like have a LIFE?

"Go back to your hole, demon!" I yowl painfully, feeling myself being carried further and further away from my bed, "Go back to the depths of hell in which you've come! Leave me beee...."

I vaguely hear my servent make a noise, something that sounded like 'shhhhhh'. Was she HISSING at me?!

'Well,' I decided, relaxing in her arms, 'Can't argue with that.'

At least when this particular servent carries me, I am relatively close to the ground. I have noticed this particular human is closer to the ground than many others. If I were a human, I would surely make fun of her for being so mutated.

Oh, I'm being let down from my throne. Just when I was starting to enjoy it, as well. Angerly, I rub against the servents legs, demanding that I be picked up once again.

"Servent!" I call up to her, "Servent! You will pick me up!" After a few seconds, I added as an afterthought, "....And get me food!"

I do not think my servent can hear. Perhaps it is too much time reading those picture books - in fact, just last week I saw her reading one of those strange picture books BACKWARDS. Now, I may not know anything of picture books, but I do know what's what in this house, and I say that books are to be read forwards!

Unless, of course, my servent's gone crazy.

In which I comment, I hope it's the type of crazy which causes the bearer of the insanity to feed their master, the cat, every two hours.

That would be amazing.

I see the girl walk unsteadily, or at least in my eyes, towards the room of food, and I race in front of her, excited that my words of wisdom have finally penetrated her thick skull. I follow her with my eyes as she prepares something, licking my lips as I wait impatiently for the moment when I will be able to dig in.

Hey, wait a minute.

That's my food.

Why is SHE eating it!?

"You fat larrrd!" I yowl, knowing perfectly well I've woken the entire household with such a scream, "Stop eating my fooooood!"

She ignores me, stuffing MY food into her mouth, as though TAUNTING me. How DARE she ignore me. And where was she going?!

Ah. To the box of hell.

I do believe this is where my servent converses with the devil.

As she sits in her chair, I ready myself and make my move. The box appears to be thinking, and now is the perfect time to strike.

Stealthily, I jump onto the letterpad, letting out all my frustrations onto the small board and listening as it clicked under my stomping feet. I walk back and forth across the contraption, letting my feet linger on certain letters longer than necessary when they made a satisfying 'beep'.

The screen of the box went blank. I suppose the devil couldn't talk today.

I watch with innocent eyes as my servent rises from her chair, leaving her half eaten food on the desk in front of her and lurching off, garbling noises under her breath and heading towards my bed once again.

I smirk inwardly, and sniff the food. Ah, tuna. How wonderful.

It's such a wonderous thing that the age-old Egyptian tradition of worshipping cats still hasn't died in some places.