Nine Lives

I struck out on my own around a year old life was so full of fun, so many things with which to play, a leaf scuttling by, a rustle in the undergrowth. I was enthralled. I stood on a road watching intently a little mouse. A car shot past bowling me over and slicing off half of my tail. It stung like hell and dripped blood. Finding a cool stream I placed my tail within, oh the blessed relief I knew I had been lucky, one life now done. My next life also flashed by as hunter became prey, I ran for my life from a pack of hungry wolves barely escaping their razor sharp fangs and hot breath. Fishing for salmon I ventured in too deep and got swept away tumbling through rapids, banging into rocks lucky to be washed ashore. Bedraggled I lie in the sun I swallowed way more water than I drink in two days. Shivering as I dry off. Maybe four is the charm as now I am much wiser. Oh no I followed my nose to an enticing exciting smell. It led me straight into a mire churned up by rooting pigs I was being sucked down exhausted I finally lay still. Well a miracle happened the muddy slime released its deathly grip and I was able to slowly wriggle free. What a state my fur was in muddy slime all over me only one thing to do and that's take a hated bath. As I rolled in the shallows I felt a change in pressure and ran for my life chased by angry snapping jaws. Piranhas I had disturbed Nearly ripped to shreds I slipped away to rest up. Unfortunately as I drifted off I started getting stung I was under attack from angry bees I was lying right over their hive. Fast as a streak I headed yet again for the river and dunked myself again and again till they were gone. Seven lives already used up and I was still only three years. A few years past uneventfully I am getting the hang of things. One dark stormy night sheltering in a leafy tree. It got hit by lightning knocking me to the ground. Fur still burning I looked a real fright, a cartoon cat with hair on end whilst all I really wanted was a quiet life. Well I have used up eight of my nine. I now mainly sleep my days away. The urge of adventure quietly rests. My day will come soon now as age takes its toll. I am stiff and nearly blind so I lay down a final time.