Animal Kingdom

• Joel Biddle, Grade 8, Toowoomba Grammar School
• Short Story
• 2003

2nd in the 'Animal Kingdom 2003' competition

The easily distinguished smell of salmon wafts through the morning air, interrupting my slumber. As my sleek body unfolds from the bed and I leap to the floor, I notice an intrusive presence, the dog. An outrageous insult to all animals with its shaggy brown fur, hideous odour and revolting tongue hanging from its gaping mouth. Unlike this creature, I am graceful with irresistible beauty. Yes, I must mention that my long and impressive pedigree stretches back to Ancient China, quite unlike the crossbred dog. I doubt he knows who his father is. Better just step around the mongrel that shouldn’t be inside. This is my kingdom.

As I pad majestically through my domain towards the alluring smell, I pause in alarm, my back arching. It is the stuff nightmares originate from. A horrible picture forms in my mind as I hear an eerie, deafening screech. I relax – it is only the good for nothing parrot. The humans in this household ascribe to this bird the virtue of talking. Big deal. After all it only mimics words like “Fred” - it’s name - and any other sound it hears often enough.

But the intelligent species is me. Why? Because I can always manipulate the best vantage point to watch the incessant television which includes a warm lap to rest upon. I can choose my food, simply by refusing to eat anything that comes from a can. I wrap myself around the legs of the human who spends the most time in the food room – kitchen they call it – and mistakenly considers herself in charge of the household, and instantly I am stroked. I control my world from a great height perched on a wardrobe where I can swiftly pounce on an unsuspecting mouse, which is of course a lower form of life.

Trekking across the cold benches and leaping across the silver sink to avoid my paws becoming wet, my vision strays to the floor…. yes, just as I thought, smoked salmon. I know it is left over from last night when the noise from the party was so disturbing I had to escape the house but they just know I will not let “pet only” food pass my whiskers.

Of course it is a nuisance having to leave the warmth of my house when too many humans invade my territory. I simply cannot have children picking me up or worse, pull my beautifully groomed tail. But I do have the advantage of coming and going as I please at any hour through the ‘cat flap’ – a door for my exclusive use. The dog cannot fit through it and the parrot is not allowed from its cage. Naturally this is how it should be for me.

Licking my lips after the salmon, I stretch. I think I’ll find a sunny spot outside where I can survey my kingdom and have a well-earned rest.