Guardian Cat
Among the seven generations of cats,
I am the third.
Having lost my mother,
I quietly gaze at my human butler.
As he always did,
Armed with what looks like thick, heavy fur,
He dresses excessively and steps outside.
Like my mother used to do in the past,
I know
He is heading out to hunt.
Sometimes, he returns empty-handed.
"Ah, he failed the hunt today."
Other times, he doesn't carry the prey in his mouth
But holds it with his front paws.
"Ah, the hunt was a success.
We shall feast today!"
I am always observing my butler.
That clothing decorated with all that fur—
As if performing magic,
He strips all the fur away.
I scan him at the speed of light.
Blunt claws, blunt nails,
And bare skin that looks like it could perish from a single scratch.
He went hunting all this time with that hidden form?
I received a sacred shock.
That night, I cannot bring myself to sleep.
Once again, I delve into the true identity of my butler.
Sometimes, without realizing, I nudge an object
And turn the room into an absolute mess.
With a bizarre voice that sounds like
"Meoruck-ruck-ruck-ruck! Gororororock!"
The butler scolds me and strikes me gently.
But that movement, that sluggish motion—
I have already anticipated it through my whiskers and ears.
The very moment he tries to strike me,
Not a hundred, but a thousand times,
I have finished simulating how to counterattack in mere 0.0001 seconds.
Yet, I hold back. If I were to scratch my butler
With my hidden claws,
I dread to even imagine your final scenario.
Sometimes, I go out for a stroll
And wait for the hour my butler returns.
Suddenly, riding upon a colossal beast that looks on the verge of death
Beneath a giant, black grizzly bear,
I wonder how he seduced it, as he casually dismounts from its back.
'Wait, my butler is a male, so how did he charm that massive male beast?'
'Ah, he was gay.'
I received yet another shock.
How could this butler, with his blunt claws and nails—
A creature less than one-twentieth the size of that grizzly bear—
Calmly stroke its fur and step down?
The grizzly bear, which seemed about to die,
Stretches its legs on the spot,
Stops its roaring "Uuuh-uuh-uung,"
And falls into a deep sleep.
Even today,
Gazing at this butler who is utterly impossible to understand,
I try to fall asleep,
But looking at him sideways—at his defenseless form
Sprawled out wide like a giant letter T—
Not just once, but with endless waves of shock,
I lose my mind without realizing.
"Ah? Is this guy crazy?
What if someone comes to attack him?"
I am constantly plagued by anxiety and insomnia,
Always staying awake to protect this butler.
At any strange noise, any odd vibration,
I always wake my butler up.
Unaware of my gratitude, the butler
Merely bites a long stick in his mouth,
And with that bizarre voice,
"Meoruck-ruck-ruck-ruck! Gororororock!"
Turning his back to me,
He endlessly exhales his deep sorrow into the air.
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