Night after night I must work for my master. Looking, searching for his particular wants, and for some the cost is almost too much.
I bring home the bundle, but he is nowhere to be seen. Lurking, motionless in the shadows he waits while I lay it out for him and prepare the ritual feast.
Sometimes he is impatient at my incompetence and attacks me. The wounds are deep but he likes the taste of my blood and to him it is a sport.
As I leave the room I hear him gorge on the meat and the crunch of bone.......or is it the crunchies I put on the top?
I have a cat.
