This is the absolute and true story of my recent life.
At one time, it was a good life, a great life, actually. Like most of my species, I am hesitant at using superlatives, instead preferring to hold back and observe before praising; but I can say, now that it is over, that indeed my life was wonderful.
I lived with two humans, both of whom adored me. Of course they did, for I was (and am still) perfect, and completely worthy of adoration. I am a tri-color, what humans in this part of the world call “Calico,” and the pattern of black, ginger and white I was born with is quite attractive. Apparently, my personality was a constant source of delight to my human staff, because they fussed and played with me endlessly.
The smaller, female human was gone most days, leaving me to spend time with the male. She was a good staff person, making sure my food supply was adequate, brushing me, and adept at learning the games I enjoyed. However, on occasion she did some things that were not so good; trimming my nails and, worst of all, putting me into the small container and then on those horrible, horrible car rides to the vet. I did my best to train her, but she is not that bright, and no matter how many times I showed my dissatisfaction she never learned. I’d watch her cleaning up my lessons and wonder how she could be so dense; but then, I’ve never fully understood humans and expect I never will.
The larger, male human was home the most. That was a good thing, because he was the more trainable. I am proud of all the games I taught him; there are too many to list here, but I will tell you about one, the door game. If I walked over to the door and looked at it, he would jump up to open it, allowing me to wander out on the balcony. Once I tired of being outside, all I had to do was stare at the door, and he would once again open it for me. He performed very well. I would sometimes test his ability by going in and out repeatedly, and no matter how short of a time period there was between requests, he was always right there to open the door for me.
His obvious worship of me extended beyond the simple tricks I taught him. He got up early every morning to come downstairs and give me fresh food and water. He was always willing to spend time stroking and petting me, and was a great nap companion. During my more active moods, I could get him to play games of touch your nose, hunt your foot, or stalk your hand (my personal favorite). Yes, I had the perfect life. I realize that, now that it has changed.
Slightly over a year ago, there was a very bad morning. The usual routine was for the male to come downstairs and take care of me. The female would follow later, with wet hair and smelling of soap, and be handed a cup of coffee by the male (he took care of her as well as me). This very bad morning, none of that happened. My house was rudely intruded upon by a group of strangers. Not only were they loud and very scary, not one of them showed the slightest interest in me, obviously the most wonderful being in the house. They were only interested in the male, and ended up taking him with them. The female human followed them a few minutes later. I was completely ignored: no food, no fresh water.
It was unforgivable.
For the next month the male was gone, the female was hardly ever home, and my routine was completely disrupted. It was a living hell; let me tell you. The female paid only the most cursory attention to me.
They say you never realize what you have until it’s gone, and I have learned how true a saying that is. It’s been a year now, and my life has changed for the worse. The male never did come back; it is just the female and I now. My food bowl stays empty longer in the morning, and I am alone during the day. She never was as trainable as the male.
I miss him, a lot. I think she does as well, but it’s so hard to tell with humans; they just don’t act in a manner that makes sense.