Yes, what I would really like is to go back, to the house. 
I loved staying in the garden, Winter and Summer, running outside, and the constant excitement of my senses, even when I was asleep.
Those smells, the scent of the creatures crawling in the grass, and the tiny birds, that I wasn’t supposed to chaise… (they were too fast for me any way).
I just enjoyed watching them been a bit scared of me. 
And I miss the little presents that I brought home, 
the tiny mice that, I knew, she can’t stand them and she didn’t know how to dispose of them, but hey, that’s the way we’ve always done business, am I supposed to change the rules or what?
I have already stopped bringing crickets and cockroaches - I know those are big ‘No! No! No! Bad cat!’  - and, from mammal to mammal, I can’t blame her, although, as you know, disgust is only human, it doesn’t belong to cats.
But it filled me with pride.
I just want to be able to climb up trees, the roof… again
I want to surprise her, hiding behind the gate, when she comes home from work. But there is no gate any more.
Now we live in a flat, at the fifth floor.
Now I spend my days underneath the table, contemplating some peculiar games of light, reflected on the blue wall of her living room.