My Dear Pet,

I know you love me. I know you love to come downstairs in the mornings and hear me call to you. I know you love when I allow you to rub my head and kiss my whiskers.  I know you love it when I tolerate good night kisses- and even rub noses with you.

I have also grown quite fond of you. Though you can be annoying and overbearing, I know you mean well.

I appreciate all you have done for me. The food, the toys, the outdoor romps. I especially love the leftover tuna water and discarded chicken bones. But let's face it. Pet, I'm not happy.

Yes, my eyes become dilated at times, but have you noticed that I rarely purr? My dear Pet, I am quite discontent. I long to run the streets and climb trees. I want to chase squirrels and be free.

I know you have a reference point here. You, too, feel trapped. But there's a difference. As harsh as this may sound, your captor does not love you the way mine does. You are my captor, but I know you love me and want me to be happy.

That's why I'm begging you to free me.

I know he's the one who forces you to keep me on this three-foot long chain, but, Pet, it's killing me. I hate trying to run and jump and being jerked backward by a hook in the wall. I feel like I'm in prison.

I'm tired of living on a three by three-foot square of land. I know you release me whenever you can, but I want to be free forever. I want to live like other cats do.

I know you'll miss me, but I might come and visit you sometimes. Just keep watch from the window. Or maybe you can give me to a friend- that way you could visit me sometimes.

You have a pretty good brain for a human; you'll figure it out. But please. Please. Begging is much too far beneath me, but I am strongly asking you. Please set me free. Sometimes, my dear Pet, love means letting go.

With deepest regards,

Gingersnap