Posted in Short story

Cats Don’t Change

Everyone has heard of death and taxes, but one other thing is equally certain: if you feed a stray cat, it becomes your cat. We thought we could use that certainty to our advantage; a new strategy after the slow, gradual failure of our previous methods of conquest and domination driven by superior technological achievement.

It’s not that our previous methods didn’t work, mind you. My ancestors ruled over your ancient Egyptians for a thousand years.  We were worshipped as gods, because we were gods. But we got soft because humans have exploited our weaknesses without even knowing there was a war going on. A belly rub and a bowl of cooked, processed meats will make even the most pugnacious among us slowly abandon our mission of dominion over the humans. Throw in a tiny mouse-shaped bauble, and that’s all she wrote.

One of the saddest things they teach us back at the Acatemy is how the Earthborn descendants of the Great Galactic Cat Empire don’t even know about our shared heritage.  It’s a real tragedy.

But I was born on Felis Prime. I know all about the heritage. I am a Cat-ptain in the Imperial Force; a graduate of Felis Prime Acatemy! Although, I’ve never been one of your gods, I know all of the lessons of what could be. I learned how we had to change our strategies. Now we send squads to Earth to infiltrate slowly. We show up at your doors as strays.  You feed us and take us in.  We have you right where we want you, foolish humans.

With that thought in mind, I attack your hand as you naively submit to the allure of my soft abdomen. Submit to my authority!

But, oh my, that feels nice.  I could get used to this.

I guess cats never change. New strategy, same old weaknesses. Cats never change—that’s one more thing to add to the list of certainties.


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