A cat and her carrier

I was a little one, a kitty, when first time met my carrier. It was a warm sunny afternoon when I tried to cross the road. It was a dangerous life I had but not everyone could choose which life they want, right. I prepared my self to jump-and-run as faster I could. Took the risk, left my life at this side, and wish the universe offered a good start across the road.

My carrier was there, right beside my jump-position. It was like my carrier was so right for being there. I had nothing to do anymore with this side and the picture of the cross-side had already filled my imagination. My carrier eventually stopped me by offering any comfort of life could offered. I did not see the offerings were tempting as much my future plan, though. Unfortunately, I was raised as a cat. You know, it’s a kind of cat has four legs instead of four hands. Cat was destined to have carrier. Cat supposed to meowing not barking, and so on.

So, I stayed…hoping it’s the best decision.

Later on, I found out that my carrier did not like my four hands (I named it hands instead of legs). My carrier even wanted me to be a dog because it’s better, they said. Sadly, no one ever asked if i felt better as a dog or not. They just want me to do this and that. I tried hardly as I felt it’s the consequences of my decision in the past. They even warned me that I have no other choice of life. They spoke gently and sweetly to me but it’s all about them. I was only a supporting role in their story, or maybe even not existed. Poor me.

I am not a real cat or dog. The worst thing is no one actually ever asked what I want in life. My life is theirs.

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