Food Situation

I’m slowly working my south, keeping on the move and staying warm. It burns calories. I’m hungry all the time. Heck, I was hungry all the time at the Old Man’s house. Fed twice a day, a carefully measured ¼ cup at each meal. The Old Man was a Prisoner of War, World War II vet, so you'd think he’d cut me some slack. Throw in extra kibbles. But nooooo. He was under strict rules from you know who.

Geez, look at me. Complaining about what I use to have. Look at me now. Wish I could have a little Science Diet. Instead, I’m gnawing on the bones of what was a skinny rabbit. It got caught in a drainage pipe beneath the highway.

My hunting skills were never as good as Phoenix’s. Once I had that episode where I chased baby five rabbits around the outside of an abandoned dog pen and didn’t catch a one, I quite hunting. When I got close, the rabbits jumped into the pen. Back in the day, I was pretty fat, so I couldn’t slip through the fence like the bunnies. It was too embarrassing to repeat, so I never honed the stalking skills. I get too excited and run too soon. But I’m learning. Learn or starve.