The Jaguar slashed open my soft underbelly. I admired his coat while she devoured my liver. Gently I became accustomed to the furious flurry of blood around me. Being a bowl gave a new appreciation for lapping. My dying charm enveloped me and the mother Jaguar was humored by my nuzzle to her tit. It was hard to feel the warmth of the milk next to the raging fire of my pain. Halting, to cherish my nutrition, I plopped down on my mother’s furry stomach opening my eyes for the first time. My brothers and sisters clamored over and through each other, playfully tickling me with their nibbles.