Life & Times of Uno the Cat, Life One

It was suggested I begin to pen a book or a collection. This is a beginning--I'm posting the first chapter. At this juncture I"m not sure if I"m going to switch narrative voices. The first chapter of Life One is from the voice of Uno.
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The Life and Times of Uno the Cat

One word
Frees us of all the weight and pain of life:
That word is love. - Sophocles, Oedipus at Colonus

Life One: Uno at Colonus

Chapter 1

The other day, one of the siblings? The cousins, it’s hard to tell, told me I had a different Daddy than all of them. My Daddy, is the jagged eared, broken-legged, crusted-eye, scratched up, gray and white tabby, who occasionally hovers around the barn.
“He’s a scab,” one of the black matted long-haired kittens screeched.
"A walking parasite," said another one, a replica xerox of the first one
"Probably got Feline Leuk!!"roared the last one, an imitation of the the other two except with some green crap oozing from its nose.

Which of course, meant I had feline leuk. Anyone with an eight week life education (following a very safe and hearty nursing stage) like myself knows that there are silent cat killers like: distemper: feline leuk: and the new one, FIV, and then there are the in-your-face-so bitch you better-run and climb your ass off, find some redwood or spruce and claw your way up it, just make sure you know how to get down, or else you’ll die a very tragic, tire-tread on your back, brain splattered on concrete, kinda-death. Life happens, so better learn quick how to run and hide.

Sometimes you are born just to die, but I just don’t believe that to be my purpose, my prophecy. It’s possible I could be his offspring, one of his 150 bastards, or a bastard of his bastards, but I just don’t sense I have death sleeping in my bones, I only feel life, certainly 4 or 5 of them.

“Listen you flea bitten fags,” I yelp," maybe this is my first and only life, maybe I won’t live through the garbage day on Tuesday...”
I give a left paw THWACK to one of the matted mittens, who whimpers and retreats.
'Pussy’ I mumble under my breath.
“but I’m living now and that’s all that matters.” I dig my back claws into the ground sending mud and grime into their already filthy fur. Spraying says a lot more, but I don’t have that kinda equipment, I've been told. So..unjust.

I make my way to my current spot, which may be different tomorrow. It's strange, something just overcomes me and I must, must have a NEW spot; a new spot which usually is marked by another cat. This transfer of territory, I think it’s called destiny, is tricky at times. So far I have won every battle. I was able to destiny a 6 month'er's spot. It wasn't even that great, a top of a rusty ol' can, but I needed to show that I may be young but I gotta hook, ya know?

Now, this spot has style and safety. It is situated between the barn and the shed, out of the way of the beasts, and covered by a small shrub. On the other side, resting was treacherous, beasts drove in and out, broken bottles could cut your paw if you weren’t careful and the sun reflected off glass making sleeping at all it almost unbearable. But here in the spot, the world is quiet, breathable, and only mine.

I did two whisker rubs just to make sure everyone knows this spot is at least temporarily mine, and with relief lied down, and thought…those stupid matted mittens. Inbreds. This is what happens when the gene pool is too small, when it doesn’t diversify. You get matted messes who can barely climb, have upper respiratory issues, and spew hate. The grey tabby is my daddy?! Parents are irrelevant, any 8 weeker knows that. I mean once weaned what’s their use? Do they protect you from oncoming traffic? Bring you back a bird beak or leg? No. They are all too soon onto a new litter, and a new life. One day they protect you…next day they neglect you.

Through the brush, I could see the matted mittens jumping and.. playing! Playing? What are they 5 weekers? Fuckin’clueless…playing with a piece of string as if it’s an actual worm. Retards. With that kind of blind belief they are going to get themselves killed.