Alley Cat Is Not a Bad Word

They think I can't hear them but I can. I have excellent hearing, honed from years in these hard streets, stalking, hunting, avoiding predators. House cats judge. They think themselves superior to us outside cats; Alley Cats if you will. They look out their windows with their shiny fur, trimmed nails, and full bellies and feel superior. I used to agree. I didn't consciously think they were better but I believed them. Deep down I felt that my outside living situation was a reflection of my worth. Why didn't someone want me in their home? Was I unlovable, faulty in some way? Sure, sometimes I don't smell the best. So would any cat who literally never bathed (other than the paw lick, head wipe, thing). The important thing, and what I am working on accepting, is that I was born with the same value as those inside cats. I was just as cute, as lovable, as worthy. I recently had a moment of clarity that, humorously, involved a window. I was hunting a bird and followed it to the backyard of a human's house. The bird saw me and flew away towards the house, coming close to a window. At that moment a cat in the house jumped at the bird, hitting the window and falling to the floor. I was shocked. That cat jumped into a window! In that moment my feeling of insecurity melted. I am a hunter. I kill what I eat. That fat house cat was so divorced from reality that it tried to jump through a window. I had empathy for her (it was a her, I have no gender bias). While she may live a long time due to her safe home, it will be an overweight, antiseptic life, devoid of true passion and fulfillment. Today I find myself staring at my reflection in a pond where I fish and I like what I see, an Alley Cat.