Abandonment:
It’s all about being left alone. Sure, there are promises made by the light of day, promises of imminent return, but where is the trust? Where is the fulfillment of all these promises? Where is the human?
Day after day we are bade adieu with the promise of return. Night after night we watch the sun set, twilight flee, and darkness fall. Then, long after light and heat have left for the day, the lock rattles. JJ still runs; not I. I have no tolerance for such infidelity. Safe and snug in this giant bed, I remain warm and undisturbed, except for the futile search for my head or tail. I do not accept these professions of regret, these excuses for tardiness.
True, there was a time when I was enticed out of my warm bed by the rattle of paper and the fascinating foreign scents that accompanied my human’s returns, but no more. Things come in, things go out, but I remain. The view has changed; bleakness is pervading the landscape. Leaves are falling, birds have flown, trucks are heard but no longer seen. The only positive change is that delivery men seem more prevalent of late, and their mysterious bundles come in a variety of sizes. I particularly enjoy the clumsy one that often fumbles, trips, and swears.
Ah, I feel a lightening of my gloom. Perhaps things are not so bad. After all, my human does come home each night, if late. It is not as bad as the year I was left alone. OK: perhaps not total abandonment after all… I do like my food and toys, after all…