I am practicing. I don't really know what I am practicing for, I just know it's important. I need to hang on. If it escapes I need to chase it. When I have it I need to shake it. When it pulls, I need to pull back harder. I need to be stronger, faster and wittier than this thing, this fascinating thing that makes me feel like a wolf. That's how I feel when I am fighting with it. I want to kill it. When it squeaks it drives me crazy. It pulls the growl from my throat and I can sound pretty vicious, believe me. I can be as deadly as a....a.... a Polecat.
Being a whirling dervish is awesome....until CRASH! One minute I am chasing toys, racing in circles, or wrestling with anything I can get my mouth on. The next thing I know, I don't know. All I can see is behind my eyelids, which is a repeat, or a new version of what happened that day. My human asks me what I am dreaming about. She says that my paws jerk, my lips quiver and my tail thumps in a happy circle when I sleep. She also says that she can't keep her hands off of me. I don't notice. Sleep is over rated however. I try to make them very short. Like my legs.
I am Polecat's human. She has difficulty fully expressing herself without me. So I told her I would write and post photos for her. She wants you to know that she is a poet.