The object glistens in front of me. It's bright and shiny, soft and squishy, small and helpless. It has seductive curves from the head to the fins to the tail. It smells like that exciting plant that Boss grows outside in the garden.

The toy fish flops around on the rug, its movements draw my eyes back and forth. So helpless. It would be a crime not to pounce on it.

I jump. I land. The fish squeaks under my weight.

'AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!'

"MROW"

I can never get enough of doing this. I pounced on the fish yesterday. I pounced on it the day before yesterday. And the day before that, and the day before that one too. And I will pounce on it tomorrow as well!

But unfortunately, due to responsible time management, I cannot spend all my time on fish. I must set aside a few hours for my other responsibilities. On my to-do list: defending my territory from the other neighborhood cats, searching for advantageous elevated surfaces, scouting out the dumpsters, and bringing back the corpses of mice for Boss. He never eats them, but I like to think that he at least appreciates my efforts towards keeping the abode safe from vermin.

I leave the fire-room and head for the double-door. The double-door is exactly what it sounds like. It is a small door inside of a larger door, and both create an entrance to the abode. I find the small door to be useless though. After all, the big door already opens correctly so why have another door? It's redundant! But I remember boss creating the small door for me, so I use it so as not to hurt his feelings.

On the other side of the double-door, I feel a breeze and warmth. Wonderful warmth. The outside is truly best during summer. I see Boss in the garden, tending to his plants. I give him a cordial greeting, and rub my face on him. This allows me to make sure that he smells like me, and to make sure that others know he is mine.

"Hey there Mittens. Going out to hunt?"

The Boss makes Boss noises like he always does. I don't understand his language but I do know enough to recognize my name: Mittens. I don't know what significance the name has, but given my bold aura and handsome countenance, I'm sure it is a mighty moniker in the language of Boss's species.

"Maowr."

I meow at him to denote my departure, and then jump onto the wooden barrier that surrounds the abode and garden. It is a very advantageous position to be in, since it allows me sustained surveillance of all the adjacent abodes. It makes it easy to watch for enemies while making my way over to the prey place.

After some walking, I come to the end of the wooden barrier and jump down to the rocky death-strip, where metal monsters rocket around. This is the last part of my journey, and the most dangerous part too. But with my superb sense of timing, I can sprint across the strip while sidestepping all the speeding cars. And with that, I arrive at my destination.

The prey place is a garden of sorts. It has more space than Boss's garden (though his is still superior), and in this space are trees that bear red fruit. The fruit attract small, furry prey who I can hunt to my heart's content. They taste alright too, even if they can’t compare to tuna.

I was starting to hunt, when suddenly, I hear a voice behind me.

“Woof.” [Wutchu doin here punk? Yous supposed to stay ‘way from my huntin’ grounds, didn’t I tell ya long time ‘go?]

Shit. It’s Ol’ Yeller, the senile, probably rabies-infested dog. He thinks he owns the prey-place and tries to attack any cats that hunt here. Which means that I’m in for a fight.

“Mrow!” [You don’t own this place, mutt. Why don’t you go back home and gnaw on a chicken leg?]

I tell him off. Stupid dog. If you think I’ll be run off by a fossil like you, then you’ve got another thing coming!

I keep my eyes locked onto his golden mane as we circle around each other.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The dog is a lanky thing, but he’s bigger than me. Even in his old age he can still do some damage. I’ll have to play this smart.

The moment the dog lunges forward and breaks the circle, I gracefully jump straight backwards and climb up a tree.

Playing it smart basically means run and hide. No point in getting hurt if you can just wait out your opponent in a tree, right?

“Ruff!” [Git down here ya fuckin’ cat! Have ya got no shame, runnin’ from fights like that? Where’s ya’r honor?]

“Mowr.” [Tactical retreats are smart, not shameless. Something you’d know if you weren’t so senile.]

The moronic dog fumes and paces around my hiding spot, but as I thought, he is incapable of traversing the tree’s vertical surface.

Sucks to be him.

I know I’ll be up here for a while though, so I stretch my body out and make myself comfortable in the tree. Eventually, I drift off to sleep, despite the incessant barking from below.

My dream brings me to the bottom of the ocean, where I am a cat-fish. All around me are normal fish. I feel oodles of delight, and immediately begin chasing the fish, but for some reason, I can’t catch any of them. A car horn is blaring incessantly. I decide to leave the fish alone, for now. First, I have to find that damn car, and bite off its head for annoying me like this. I'm about to take a bite of the car, when suddenly, a giant version of Boss's face appears in clouds of the sky.

"Mittens," he speaks. "Why must you bite this car? It has done you no wrong." He asks, in a booming voice.

"Yes it has. It annoyed me with it's barking." Comes my reasonable reply.

"But it cannot help it's barking. It is too stupid to do otherwise. Your behavior is cruel and unusual-"

"No, I'm pretty sure this is how I usually act."

"-and this cannot continue." He ignores my comment. "In order to cultivate kindness within you, I shall grant you ten laws: They will henceforth be known as: THE TUNA COMMANDMENTS!"

He bellows the last part, which causes his voice to roil across the hills. I feel a great pressure on my haunches. While it is true that I like tuna, it is also true that I don't like laws... well, there are some laws I might like.

"What are your laws, o' great one?" I yell.

"I'm glad you asked. The first commandment shall be: 'Fish are food, not friends.'"

I feel elation. I'll have no trouble following this law! But how would this make me kinder?

"I can read your mind, young cat." What?! "To answer your question, if you eat lots of fish, then you will be too content and happy to be mean to others. This will make you kind."

Ah, I understand now. I shall gladly obey! What is the second law?

"The second commandment shall be: 'All dogs are enemies of the state!'"

Wait, dog's weren't already enemies of the state? Actually, I don't have a state, so how could that be?

"The third commandment shall be: 'All cars must obey the speed limit!'"

I don't understand that commandment.

"You will when you start driving, young cat."

I can drive?

"The fourth commandment shall be- wait, hold up. Are you writing these down?"

No. I don't know how to write.

"Oh..."

We sit there in awkward silence for a moment, before I wake up.

That was a strange dream.

My catnap over, I stretch and yawn. Ahhhh, what a nice feeling. And I don't hear barking anymore, which makes it better.

Just to make sure, I check the bottom of the tree. Dog?

...

...

...

No dog. Good.

But what was that dream about? There was supposed to be ten Tuna Commandments, but God- I mean Boss only got to three.

Whatever.

Seeing as how Ol' Yeller is gone, I'm probably free to hunt the prey around here.

Woohoo!

Without further ado, I jump onto the ground and begin my hunt.

Rodents are my quarry. And I know that they're wary. But their chances of escape are nil. So I find them easy to kill. I see one hiding behind that tree. It doesn't know it can't hide from me. I quickly enter my stealthiest state. A prompt, powerful pounce seals it's fate. Bones and sinew crunch between my teeth. It's squishy organs are a delicious treat. It's blood drains away, and it's life is quickly lost. Now all I've got to do is bring it back to Boss!

Hunting is lots of fun.

I would hunt more, but I spent too much time sleeping. I should probably head home before the sky becomes dark.

But before I can do anything, I hear a whistling sound. At the last moment, I look up in time to see a strange thing bearing down on me. It's big, white, and it's shaped like a bird-feeder pole. Some kind of bird maybe? No, it's too big, and doesn't have enough wings. It's landing on top of me, isn't it.

And then the space shuttle crashes down right on top of me, killing me.

*KRAKATHABOOOOOOM!*

The next Tuesday, on the SCN News’s preview...

“Last Saturday afternoon, the unmanned space-shuttle known as Orin’s Claw malfunctioned. It had diverged from its calculated trajectory and crashed on soil, rather than the ocean. Luckily, no humans were harmed during its forceful touchdown in Toho Apple Orchard Fields, though a nearby resident’s unlucky cat is now deceased. Scientists are still trying to determine the cause of the malfunction. More on the event at Seven P.M. this evening. Stay tuned!”

In a nearby home, a certain former cat-owner cries.

"Poor Mittens. He was such a good cat..." He sobs.

In the netherworld, a certain cat's soul dreams about the love of its life.

"Fish..."