Petlife logo

The Chicken Thief

by Heather Miller about a year ago in satire
Report Story

Inspired by true events

A throwback to my younger self, when I still wasn't being given the food I needed

I could not remember the last time I tasted food.

Had I ever been fed? Did these foolish humans ever think about my needs? Hardly. Despite my constant reminders, loud ones mind you, they always assured me 'You've already been fed! Stop trying to lie. You can't fool us!'

Can't fool them indeed. Except all the times I managed to convince one that the others hadn't fed me yet. They always got so mad when I did that but it's their own fault for being so useless. Why do they think we keep doing it? We'd have stopped long ago if it didn't work.

Tonight was the same as any other.

The humans fed us, or so they claim. I don't remember if it was my own personal human (who I occasionally deign to refer to as mom) or not as I'm not actually convinced it really happened. If it had, why did my stomach feel so empty still? Couldn't they hear its rumbles echoing through the house? Probably not. They're too busy laughing over something on the television. Completely ridiculous. Ignoring my plight as they focus on the shiny box instead.

I tried to convey my displeasure through eye contact before I acted

I watched as they enjoyed whatever that shiny box was doing, eating their food, completely oblivious to my plight.

How infuriating!

The smells wafting from their meal only made my stomach angrier. What sorcery was this?! What delicious delicacy did they possess that they would not share?

I decided to investigate.

Slowly, inconspicuously, I climbed onto my human. She nudged me with her arm (the AUDACITY!) and urged me to get down. Instead of listening, why would I when I was in charge here, I sat myself on the arm of her couch. I had the perfect view of her plate, meaning I also had an even better smell of what she feasted upon.


While the other humans (AKA: my aunts I suppose) had something that smelled fishy, I was not interested in that. Everyone says cats love fish but me? Chicken would always be my first love. Occasionally, I'd climb on them just to make them think I wanted it, but I really didn't. The chicken was another matter entirely. I didn't play when it came to chicken.

How can you not see that I'm starving? Look at this booty, wasting away!

As I was staring at mom's plate, contemplating my next move, opportunity struck. Little Sir, as they called the newest member of our household, provided a distraction I desperately needed. No, I did not ask him to but he frequently does my bidding helps me out without me having to ask. It was just what I needed to make my move.


Quick as a flash, before mom could even think of turning her head back, I grabbed a piece of the delicious sustenance and took off. I heard squeals of protest and anger but ignored them as I ran with my catch. My trophy. My kill.

Galloping like a race horse fresh out of the gate at the track, I was off. But where would I go?! Nowhere was safe, not if the yelling from where I'd left the humans was any indication. My tongue was only able to have a small lick of my triumph, still clamped firmly between my teeth as it was, but that taste was enough to send me into a frenzy. Delicious didn't even begin to describe it.

Was this what they kept for themselves while they fed me mush everyday?! For SHAME!

Under the table I scrambled, knowing mom had some sort of weird defect that made it so she could not crouch down or crawl and therefore would be unable to follow me. While normally I felt bad for her, even going so far as to lay atop the leg that seemed to cause her pain in an attempt to heal it with my miraculous presence and purrs, right now I only thought of using this to my advantage.

Imagine my surprise when, only a few seconds later, hands were reaching for me despite my thoughts of safety. How even?! No matter. I was not giving this up without a fight.

Now, I didn't have much experience with cat-hood. It had just been me and mom for my entire life. For a short time, we lived in a house with older humans she referred to as 'grandma' and 'grandpa', but no other cats were there. Not like in our house now. No, those humans had a much larger animal. One that made strange sounds that reminded me of something mom called a gremlin once when she was watching something on the shiny box.

She referred to this creature as a dog which sounded made up to me but what did I know? The point was, I had observed this slobbering, clumsy, oaf making a growling noise whenever he had something in his mouth that he didn't want the humans to take away. And it worked! And if it worked for him, it could work for me too.

Growling as I'd seen him do, I moved even further under the table and away from her grasping hands.

"Did you just gremlin growl at me?!"

Heck yeah I did, woman. Take THAT.

Except, she didn't take it. It didn't seem to deter her at all. In fact, I was suddenly very aware she might just ignore her pain and join me under the table. If she did that, I'd definitely lose this delicious morsel and I couldn't let that happen.


As she went to crouch under the table, off I sped again. Still growling, though at this point I wasn't sure if I was doing it to stop her or make myself feel better. Probably both, honestly.

I decided to go up the stairs. It was another thing mom couldn't do easily and therefore she generally limited her trips up and down as much as possible. By this time, the other two humans had joined in the chase and they were much better at stairs than my mom. I knew I had to act fast if I was going to succeed, so I didn't dare slow or look back as I sprinted all the way up, leaving them at the bottom still shouting after me and talking to each other in the hope of forming a better plan.

"I mean, I think at this point she's earned it."

My aunt was right, I had earned it. This was mine, fair and square. So why were we still doing this?!

"Yeah, I would agree but I'm just worried about the sauce. It's teriyaki. Is that bad for them?"

Ugh, my mom was always worrying about one thing or another. Everything was always "bad" for me. She needed to relax.

Figuring I was safe now, I hurried into my aunt's room to enjoy my hard-won meal. Her room was the biggest, giving me plenty of space to settle, which was good considering how exhausted I was. Ultimately, that exhaustion, that false sense of security, was my undoing.

Finally releasing the chicken, I settled in for my victory feast, only to be stopped by hands on me once again. My growls were halfhearted at this point, since they hadn't worked anyway, and I watched in dismay as the most mobile of the humans in the house took the chicken away.

Why would they do this to me? Do you know, readers?

Defeat. I had lost.

I stayed in her room for several minutes after she went back down, letting the sense of despair and disappointment mingle with irritation. I was surely going to starve now.

What had I done to deserve this? Hadn't I been good to them? Didn't I grace them with my presence daily?

After awhile, mostly because being by myself was not something I enjoyed, I made my way back downstairs. I always wanted to be where the people were (as they so often sang to me, whatever that means). My aunt was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, however, holding something in her hand. Thinking it was my stolen prize, I put on my best glower.

Instead of taunting me, or worse scolding, I discovered that the chicken she held...was for me!

"I washed off a piece of the plain chicken that was in the ramen. It's fine."

Paying no mind to her words, I pounced on the gift as soon as she set it on the floor. Dignity was forgotten. It didn't matter if I had a bowl or if I was just eagerly gobbling like a heathen, this was glorious food and I was not going to turn it down.

Once I finished, I sulked for a bit. Sure, they had given me chicken in the end but it wasn't the one I'd stolen. Mom tried to scold me but I ignored her. She then tried to beckon me onto her lap as was routine but I merely stared at her from just out of reach. How else was she going to learn the error of her ways? I couldn't condone her behavior, chicken or no.

They went back to their shiny box eventually, which was when I decided mom had had enough punishment. She knew what she did was wrong, why deny myself the comfort of post-eating cuddles just to prove a point? I was not in the business of denying myself anything, even for a good lesson.

Not bothering to look at her as she cooed at me when I jumped up, I merely assumed my rightful position. After all, I was now sated and this was where I belonged.

All was right in the world.


About the author

Heather Miller

Just a girl with too many voices in her head trying to tell her what to write. Hopefully you like some of it as much as I like writing it!

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights


There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2022 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.