By Trudy A. Martinez
Why does she leave me here alone? When she leaves, she’s gone for days at a time. I’m left alone, locked in, feeling sorry for myself. I mope around and sleep more than I should. But what is someone to do when your left alone for days on end. I can’t leave; I can’t reach the door knob; I can’t open it. I can only sit and look out the window at everyone outside living life to the fullest.
I guess you might say, I’m depressed. How lonely I get. I tend to get in mischief when I am left alone. I think I do it just to get back at her for going off. After all, turn around is fair play. Isn’t it? It’s fun to do things you’re not suppose to do. I remember once, when I was feeling down and a little possessive too, I went upstairs to sit and look out the window at everyone playing on the green grass.
But when I got to my favorite chair, I found it occupied with a stack of papers. “That’s my chair!” I exclaimed. I quickly threw all the papers on the floor. But I didn’t stop there. I was still upset because she left me again. So, I tore the papers into little bits; I shredded them! I even made sure if she were able to glue them back together she would not be able to read them because I poked them full of holes. The ink ran on some of the pieces because I put them in my mouth and got them wet.
Oh was she mad when she saw what I did. I sure got her attention. She yelled, “My papers!”
Well, they were her papers and she can have them now. I had my fun. I’ll bet she’ll think twice before she puts anything on my chair again. She was almost in tears; she stood and glared at me; she didn’t even blink. “Hasn’t she learned by now I can out stare her?” I thought. It was as if she were getting ready to attack me. I wasn’t going to back down–I stared back.
When she reached for me and grabbed me by the back of my neck, I wasn’t scared. I didn’t yell out; I didn’t fight back. I did get my motor running though–you know–I started purring. That always gets her to smile again. Then, she started petting me. She loves me no matter how mischievous I am or what I’ve been into. I love her too. But I hate it when she leaves me here alone.
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- GramaTrudy Writing this journal entry helped me to work out the pain I was feeling. It is a lonely pain. My cat, Kit, went outside (in my backyard) and never came back. I’ve been teary eyed ever since. I haven’t been able to concentrate. I’ve been too sad. Sometimes my only contact with anyone is with my cat. I call her Kit because even though she is full-grown, she is small like a kitten. I decided to write as if I were her because in a way the tables are turned. I usually leave her for a few days by herself — now here I am grieving because she has left me here alone. The process of writing as if I was her made me feel somewhat better. But there is still an empty place inside me that will never be filled if she doesn’t come back. I love her as if she were my child. How could I be so insensitive? How could I have left her here alone?