Midnight, the House Panther

Where I came from and where I've been really doesn't matter. How I ended up in jail doesn't matter much either. What matters is that I was in the clink when my new human came to bail me out. He didn't owe me anything, but he was there just the same and paid my fine. For whatever reason, they released me to his custody that very day and he took me with him, back to his place - a place that was foreign and frightening. I didn't know him and was wary of him for a long time. I didn't know what he planned to do with me, or what he wanted. All I knew was that he called me Midnight - most likely because of my glossy black coat.

The Night Stalker

I immediately located two safe places to hide during the day when the human was up and about - under the bed and in the closet. No matter how much he coaxed me to come out, I wouldn't budge. There was no way I was going to fall for his tricks. Who knew what he might do to me if I let my guard down. So I would wait until he was asleep at night, then I would sneak out to take care of business. I quickly learned that he left food and water out for me, and there was a litterbox for my bathroom needs. I took full advantage of these things throughout the night, and was back in hiding before the sun shone in the morning. I have to admit, there were a few close calls when he almost caught me out; but they were just close calls, nothing more.

A Difference Like Night and Day

As you may have guessed, I eventually had to come out of hiding. The stress of being in a new place with unknown sights and smells soon faded, and I began to venture out a little here and a little there, until I was spending time in the same room with the human. He wasn't as bad as I originally thought he might be, but I was still cautious.

My doubts remained. Why would he bail me out of jail? What was in it for him? He would talk to me whenever he saw me, but I'd been talked to before, and talk is cheap. I needed to see his actions before I decided if he was trustworthy.

Well, over time, I learned that he was in fact safe to be around. I even let him pet me some, and the more I got to know him, the more I liked him - though there are still times when I shy away for just a second or two before going to him. I don't mean to do that, it's like it's a reflex - a knee jerk reaction from my past.

Wake Up, Man!

Now that I know he's safe and doesn't have anything bad in mind to do to me, I've come to accept that we are roommates. I've also come to realize that if I want to get my treats in the morning, it's up to me to wake him up, otherwise he would probably sleep until I starved to death. I honestly don't remember him being so lax before.

So, each morning, while he's blissfully sleeping, I begin my wake up ritual. I start by politely calling for him to wake up..."Hello, roomy, it's time for my treats." But he rarely responds to that, so I jump onto the edge of the bed and yell..."Hey! Wake up! I need my treats!" . However, all too often, even that fails to get him up, so I have to resort to more drastic measures. I then go fully onto the bed and stomp around while I yell at him to wake up. By that time, I am completely fed up with his sleeping and ignoring me, but he does eventually get up and give me my treats.

Even though he does annoy me from time to time, and even if I do still have flashbacks now and then, I'd rather be here with him any day of the week than be back in jail. Well, that's enough about me.

Thank you for spending this time with me. Have a great day!

The next post belongs to another lovely queen named Ramen.

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