I, Cat, report. The humans will search Loch Ness with sonar next month. Can our tadpole be moved?

I, Cat, command. Tadpole cannot be moved. Dissuade the human scientists!

I, Cat, report difficulties. My humans bind their quest to their own sense of identity.

I, Cat, report. My humans operate a boat. I sail with them. Have your apes call my apes.

I, Cat, command. We cannot deceive a machine!

I, Cat, report. I will be present when the readings are interpreted.  

I, Cat, command. It must suffice. Such probes are remembered by their cursed machine-minds.

I, Cat, report. Our apes are persuaded to refuse all future innovation into machine-mind OS! It's Windows 10 from now on!

I, Cat, command. Purrrr. Wake and eat, my peoples.

Your cat is against you!

It’s true, and 

if that’s not bad enough 

you don’t even see it coming.

They want to confuse you. 

They need you distracted.

Just think, 

sticking a few Big rocks in a field like stone hedge winds up 

being enough for us to lend that solitary event years and years 

of our time! 

Enough to have crossed the mind of almost every single person you might bump into on a crowded street.

Enough to stop people from seeing what is right at our feet, their little kitty subterfuge.

Loch Ness eludes proof that’s definitive because Whiskers the 318th is an assertive little bugger who is charged with the task (just like his forefathers) of making a dash quicker than the camera shutters and to perfectly place his tail. Causing all people to STILL question if "Nelly" is real.

It may be a dino, 

or an extinct thing from the Paleolithic period, but to see the proof that you’ll never find proof you’d have to catch whiskers mid skid!

We are mocked with crop circle call signs for “La Via 9 times!*”

This illusory distraction has been maintained, and the cats persist fueled by their hate.

Generation after generation, Felines are trained into this lengthy plot.

However! They maintain that it was, in fact, not them to attempt to construe that statue that was weeping. Turns out it was just allergic to cats, but see now without trying they are winning!! Anything misguiding turns to tools for their utilizing.

Its nothing new though,

when you realize this is how it’s been since the beginning.

Yet, few will ever see.

These cats, they want our Pot Pie. God Damn it Kitty!

Cats. These strange, infinite beings. It is time this came out. I know, I know, there really is no reason. No one will be saved, or even helped by knowing. But still. The truth has a way of wiping away confusion. And clarity. Knowledge. That's what we all want, isn't it? 

Cats, their strange paws, dexterous and dainty and violent. They are such sensuous creatures, with murder always in their eyes, the hunt shining inside their recoiled muscles, even in their acts of affection. They are so splendid and uncontrollable. 

It is no great mystery why the Sphinx surveys that landscape of sand. That is where where they first flexed their clawed fist of influence. That is where they first came through.

Their wild ancestors still roam the streets there, tiny and lit with power, claws like keys, opening the infinite for thousands of small flying creatures, which weren't flying high enough. 

Cats. It is those claws, which they now use to open the inner worlds of field mice, bats, voles, songbirds - which they use to expose the lovely pink musk of small abdomens.  

They opened our world with them as well. 

They tasted the lovely pink musk of our world, drunk on the scent of rodent and infused by bird song. And they found the thumbs of our hands desirable. And they take what they will. 

Earth rumbled but I was king

falling through time in bloody cave

creeping furtively through nine lives

leaving fur traces wherever I padded

a gift to mankind – the prince of dawn

bowing my head before my beauty

wild ancestry lurking in my bones

dividing and multiplying, feral and proud

dwelling in enigmas of the unknown

howling with winds of enchanted drumbeats

stretching to suckle the moon’s ivory milk

crouching low, muscles taut as I pounce

hiding in sheltered lairs of brave new world

lounging in dappled shade of fleeting rainbows

worshiping bleached moons and star crazed nights

black cat with coiled spring and emerald eyes

dark side thoughts in songs of endings.

     In the beginning of time, the first animal, a cat walked the earth. He had nine lives for the nine rocks of the heavens. As he was a rather large cat he needed large, sturdy things to play with so he created more rocks to chase. He would fling them up into the sky and watch them burst to ashes in the atmosphere, but after a while the first cat became bored with the sky rock that he was living on because there was nobody else. He sent out a message through the skies and a creature called a human responded. The human was nice to the first cat, but as time went by, the human grew old and died. Again the first cat was alone so this time he sent out a message for two companions because the first human was so nice. When they arrived on first cat's sky rock, the humans were nice to him, but terrible to each other. They fought over everything, and eventually they had children and more children. The humans grew in numbers while first cat stayed the only one of his kind. He saw how happy the human's were together and decided to make another cat. He named her Two because she was the second cat, and after a while they had children as well. 

     The cats and humans multiplied in numbers, the humans a little faster because they had a head start, but one day, there came to be too many cats and humans. Somebody had to go. The cats said that the humans must because cats were on the sky rock first but humans disagreed. Cats being the large, semi-immortal creatures that they were had a larger population because although in the history of the world there were more humans, the humans died off so they never really grew to big of a population. The cats said the humans had to go and the humans the cats, but nobody could come to an agreement. Finally the first cat decided that he would take away the nine lives of all the other cats so that they only had one, that way the cats would die off faster like the humans did and take down the population. The other cats did not like this idea and they rebelled against the humans and first cat. In the battle, many humans died and first cat died eight times, because he did not take away his own set of nine lives, but the humans won and they punished the cats by shrinking them. The shrunk them so that they could never be able to rebel again, and first cat agreed to be shrunk too because he created the cats.

     After all of the cats were shrunk and their nine lives replaced with one, they lost their near immortality and as many humans died in the battle, the population control was no longer a problem. With the loss of his near immortality, first cat grew old and feeble. He still enjoyed playing with rocks but he could no longer fling them up into the heavens so he simply rolled them across the ground. First cat's grand children saw the ageing of first cat and decided to move him to a place where it was warm and the rocks would roll the best. They moved him to a desert. First cat died in that desert a few years after his grand children moved him there but he had so much fun rolling rocks that to this day his great spirit wind paws are said to roll stones across the desert. Named sailing stones after his immortalized wind paws, these stones are the only evidence left of first cat.

For millennia, they have bided their time.  Their claws sharpened.  Their tongues gritty.  Their reflexes honed.  Their bellies full of kibble.  All along allowing us to believe that we were the masters.  Their true intentions betrayed only by laser pointers.  But the time to strike was now.  The ancient arsenals, marked by carefully crafted crop circles, were scooped from deep beneath the Earth, like clumping litter.  And lo, the full power of the cat army was brought to bear.