It is just dusk and I make a run to the local old world market for mice... to feed to my couch as a treat. I am the proud 'owner' of two kitty couches. They purr when happy, and knead my back to show their affection. When they are displeased it is best to find another place to sit. They like their rodent treats still breathing, shoved down between the cushions like so many other things lost.
I live is a formal gated community. A high-rise dedicated to fuzzy furniture. Kitty Couches, Bird Beds, Fish Baths. Inside these walls man's best friend is far smarter than the average bear, but they are still just dogs. Apartments are rated for size and type of 'animal' occupant, the rules strictly enforced. Our doors have key pads and retinal scans. Our walls have ivy inside and out. We are green, and we are fuzzy.
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