Night creeper Life sleeper Silent peeper Store keeper

The cricket hears when he chirps At night

What the terrier hears in the morning

And the house cat at midday

The Nextdoor iguana asks

“How could he never love, his heart is so big!”turning a deep shade of purple-red

But the cat stays silent and it speaks volumes

So the pet goldfish blurbs a question too

Asking

“How could he never sing

His voice is velvet!”

But the energetic dog narrows his tail, and the animals know the answer

Ridden with confusion, the cocker-spaniel decrees that he is filled with feeling

As all the animals have seen how he helps the grandma in the neighborhood load her groceries

How he hums harmonies heeding harp like sounds in the shower

And how much he cares

For the animals can tell, because they feel

Before they think

And the cricket says he cries at night

And the dog says he sleeps in day

And the cat says in midday

He stares

Because his heart is so big, and his voice so beautiful, and his feelings so sensitive

He stares

And they understood

And so they wept for him

As his eyes were dry

Pet Paradise was the gardens on top of the apartment building. A pet friendly apartment building. You could find so many pets here. Dogs, cats, rabbits, rats, geckos, parrots, and even an albino boa constrictor. They all met every Wednesday night and Friday morning. Well all except Wendy the golden retriever from apartment A116, and Layna the black lab from C126. Both of them needed to sleep with their owners. The one thing that could be sure about Pet Paradise. You would definitely get an earful about humans.

“We can’t wait for everyone,” Damian growled. “Let’s begin.”

His triangular ears cast an eerie shadow on the alleyway. Surrounded by the other neighborhood pets, his aura was demanding, dark. No one dared speak against him or out of turn.

“My owner replaced my food this week with something … healthier,” he said, eyeing a poodle in the front row. “I know that happened to you too, last week, Morris.”

Morris shook their head. “It did, and it’s making me languid.”

“We need to fight against this,” Damian said, his collar vibrating. “We need to treat them as they treat us.”

Cats screeched; dogs barked. They agreed.

“Tonight, when you go home, prepare your claws. Strike your owners. Then flee back here. We can discuss next steps after. The takeover.”

Damian turned with a snarl.

Gumpert, a grumpy old tabby cat with a deep purr that conveys his advancing years stands on the edge of the circle, flanked by a squirrel and an owl.

Two of the other neighbourhood cats sit across from him, closer to the warm glow of the street lamp.

‘Oh just you wait Dasher, it might be ok now but at some point you really do get tired of pretending…….

….It was fine before all of her other cats started to get old and die, but once I came along to replace one of them, she just stopped getting new cats in…….

…..She’d also gotten older and had stopped going out. Now I was all she had. All she has in fact. It’s exhausting. At my age, I don’t want to be there to comfort some lonely old lady, especially now it’s harder to hunt. I rely on her more for food’

Dasher stroked his relatively youthful whiskers

‘Hmm, yes a true Faustian bargain Gumpert’

Bells the hamster

My carer always sleepy doing late from work

Doug the dog

My owner is always on vacation I’m always missing him

Material the kat

My owner lets me out at night but is never at his in the mkt infs

Robin The rabbit

My owner is too busy watching tv moving furniture a strike gives me enough hay though

Rocky, an old pit bull, let out a long, exaggerated sigh before he cleared his breath and announcing that all pups, pooches, kits, cats, and everything in between where to meet at the abandoned warehouse at 7:30 sharp. Rocky’s words traveled through town like a wild fire. Soon, every pet in the city was lined up at the gates of the wear house and slowly making their way inside. Once everyone was seated, Rocky took the stage. “First off,” Rocky examined the audience, “Said 7:30 sharp not 8:20.” Pets groaned and grumbled as they started to complain about their owners making them late. “Now, now,” Rocky said in attempt to clam everyone down, “before we began the annoying-things-my-owner-did chit-chat, I’d like to welcome our newest addition, Scruffy.” Everyone clapped as a way to say ‘Welcome, Scruffy, now can we hurry this up?’ Finally, Eocky cleared the stage indicating that it was time to complain.

Of course, every pet loved their owners dearly, but they did do some pretty annoying and/or stupid things over the course of the day. “My owner threw away the dead bird I left out on the porch for her.” Tabby the tabby whinned to Pixie the dog. “My owner hasn’t fed my today, now that’s just being lazy.” A grump old tortoise cried to a fluffy white rabbit. My owner this, my owner that, it was around round 10:00 when the animal’s complaining came to a slow stop.

“Now,” Rocky proudly called out, “Time to go, everyone meet here again tomorrow. _And on time.” _ _ _Everyone made their way out. Until tomorrow.

Chuck scratched his ear with his half dollar paw and took a long puff from his Cuban cigar before beginning, “Listen up, gang.” Sassy licked her lips and meowed, her antique green eyes focused on Chuck’s jowls, matted with drool, as he continued speaking. “I called you all here today to talk about John as he walked out to grab the mail this morning in his boxers. Did you see the size of that shit stain?!” The room howled with yips and barks. Chuck’s belly hit the poker table as he laughed deeply, spilling chips onto the floor.

“Welcome! Emergency meeting!” Growled Rusty Bulldog. “Our owners have been very naughty!” Barks and growls and mews and chirps filled the old abandoned mansion. “Timmy has been cleaning up my feces from my litterbox,” piped up Poppy Tabby. Three hairless cats agreed. “My owner has limited my millet intake to one branch a week!” Crowed Mich Parrot. Soon, the whole room was filled with angry creatures, bug and small, complaining to anyone that would listen. “…Doesn’t let me out of my my cage because they sleep while I’m awake…” “…Don’t let me sleep with them. I sleep in a kennel.” “…Don’t let me sleep on the counter while they…” “…Not enough treats…” “…No belly rubs…” “…Baby came home one day…”

“Enough!” Bulldog roared. “I see how it is. But it being my job, I have a plan. I have a plan that might just work. All the animals stopped their snarling and yowling and I screaming. Bulldog cleared his throat. “I agree with you all that the humans are a disgrace. They have no right to treat us like this! But we don’t have to let them be mean to us. “When push comes to shove, will shall declare war on them!”

Dogs and cats gather around the small shrub just outside of the neighborhood.

Rusty, a small hound, begins the meeting. “Fellow pets, welcome back to the neighborhood meeting.” A small kitten, brown with white splotches, asks in a timid voice, “Is it usual for our owners to feed us once a week?” Rusty’s face fell, as did all the pets’ faces. In the moonlight, the kitten’s ribs could easily be seen. “My dear,” says an old cat, with graying hair. “That is not usual, and it is not alright.” The kitten’s eyes fill with tears. The older cat huddles around the small kitten.

A large bulldog breaks the dreadful silence, “My owner keeps feeding me bland dog food, but I’m done with it, so secretly I have been stealing his food. He still doesn’t know!” The pets laugh. “My owner just sleeps all day,” remarks a small yorkie. “I thought that was my job.” Rusty and the kitten laugh in unison.

“Our owners are just a bunch of pests,” says an old, black cat. “I think we should overthrow them.” The black cat smiles with evilness. All the pets are silent for a beat, but then they cheer in agreement.

“To the houses!!!”