On the Prowl

This isn’t from a word prompt, but I had this idea for a short story and thought I would post it anyway.

Creaking open, the night is silent.

Green grass, now cast in shadows, apart from the occasional whirring of the water sprinkler. I take a step outside, and the door shuts behind me. Slowly, stealthily, silently I stroll across the lawn, and into the night.

It is my favourite time of night, the freedom I feel. There are no doors to blind me and no-one to tell me what to do. How I laugh at Bobby, having to go wherever she goes. Always doing as he is told.

I am my own being, and I don’t take orders from anyone. Every night I have a world of opportunities, and I’m not afraid to be me.

Fear is the scent I can track the most.

I don’t have to see the creature scurrying through the undergrowth. I lay down, my back arched and stare into the darkness. I move my body side to side and pounce. It has only been three hours since I last ate, but this is fun.

Allowing it to run from side to side, thinking it can escape, before I pounce.

It is getting cold now, and I retire back home.

My human is waiting for me at the door, I don’t bring my offering to the house any more. She is weak, and cannot hunt. It is my way of saying I love her, but she doesn’t get the sentiment.

Instead I lick my paws, and greet her with a smile.