I don't know why...

I don't know why... But I never did like the humans. So why, if I disliked the creature so much, why would I be thrown into despair when my master passes away? The daughter of my master, she told me that my master died of a 'ripe old age,' but she was not a fruit. She definitely was wrinkled like the dried prunes that she ate, and smelled far worse then my kitty box.
This woman, this silly, batty old woman, she would sit in her big couch and rock back and forth, back and forth. I don't understand the logic of moving but going nowhere. The coat of the chair had flower designs on it, and her daughter always insisted upon disposing of the thing. My master always said that if it was gone, I wouldn't have anywhere to rest. But I knew that it wasn't true. I didn't like the smell of the old furniture, and preferred the windowsill, or the rug.
How I love the braided rug that sits in the middle of the parlor. It always waits for me, loyally. I only take my naps on it if the suns shining on it, for that's when it's warm and cozy. Circling the spot several times, and then kneading at it, finally curling up and taking a nap. But now, they're taking away my rug.
The people... They wear... I think the humans call it blue... It looks just the same as a lot of things, but they're taking it away, along with the smelly old rocking chair she was so endearingly fond of. Where will I be taken to? I think someplace new. I really don't like new places. But the daughter is loading me into the dull and small kitty carrier that smells of Guinea-Pig.