The cat next door reminded me of my childhood self.
How? You ask. Trapped in a home she didn’t want to belong to.
Her searingly painful meows would bounce off the houses nearby and slip into my ears. From dusk till nightfall, she would precariously perch on the lip of the balcony. And make her pleading calls for freedom.
Blue Point Birman. Magnificent, but melancholic. She escaped dozens of times, unsuccessfully.
About a year later, when I moved, she leapt in my car as I loaded it. I didn’t notice.
I didn’t return her.
She never meowed like that again.
How? You ask. Trapped in a home she didn’t want to belong to.
Her searingly painful meows would bounce off the houses nearby and slip into my ears. From dusk till nightfall, she would precariously perch on the lip of the balcony. And make her pleading calls for freedom.
Blue Point Birman. Magnificent, but melancholic. She escaped dozens of times, unsuccessfully.
About a year later, when I moved, she leapt in my car as I loaded it. I didn’t notice.
I didn’t return her.
She never meowed like that again.
