The sun was shining brightly, and my shadow cast out in front of me with a darkness which cooled my front feet as they swung out in front of me. To watch me walk is an amusing occupation. My knees seem to buckle for a moment, and then my round feet and elephant-like toenails sporadically fling out from under me, slapping the ground with a deep clack. Somehow this dislocation thrusts my torso forward safely, and my hind legs soon follow in a similar fashion. With each jiggling, and staccato leap forward my hind quarters ripple from their ordinary location in mid air, up through my ribcage, and slowly back again until my thin, wiry tail flips toward the sky and the procedure is complete.
I sweat in the sun. Normally I am basically an indoor animal, but today the door was left open and there was no stopping me. It’s good that no one was around, because it took me nearly three quarters of an hour just to maneuver myself out through the door and down to the sidewalk. Walking is one thing, but stairs are another.
The worst thing about being me is the flies. As I require all four of my feet to remain upright, and my tail is humorously short, I have to try to get the flies off of my face with my eyelashes. The flies laugh at me. I plead with them to consider my feelings, and go find something else to eat, but they giggle away, vomiting their bile into the glistening rim of either of my grey eyes, and then hover about waiting to lap it back up again. It doesn’t hurt so much as it tickles, and while i am often distracted, batting my eyelashes like a beautiful girl in the presence of millionaires. Flies are tenacious little pests, and always get what they want.
I saw a dead fly once. I didn’t kill it. I would never kill anything. But there it was, lifeless and dark, like a crumb. I tried to lean forward and get a good look at the corpse, but my nose is heavy, and i blew the little dead thing away each time I tried to inspect it. Eventually I forgot what I was doing, and didn’t actually think of it again until just now.
I am hungry. It is hot. I am thirsty. I wish I had stayed inside. I would go back to the room where I stay, but I don’t remember where I live. Cars are driving slowly past me, watching me walk. My rump is moving proudly, but my feet hurt and I don’t remember why I wanted to come outside anymore.
I smell something tart, and fragrant. It’s coming from behind the brown beside me. I rub myself against it until the brown moves and I can fit my head into the space. There are yellow things in here. They are bright yellow, and pretty. I eat one. My mouth slowly puckers, and I am sorry I ate the yellow. It smells good, but I don’t like the burning in my mouth anymore. I am thirsty again.
If you ever have the opportunity to eat one of the yellows behind the brown. I suggest that you have a great deal of water with you. I would hate it if your mouth puckered closed like mine is right now. Between the flies and the yellow, the heat and the people gathering around me, I wouldn’t wish this experience on anyone for all the tea in China.