This very short story is a tribute to my furry grandson and my lovely daughter, Cindy. Fur animals and feathered friends have always been part of my daughter’s upbringing. She has a natural love for animals which illustrates her gentle and loving nature. I like to think I had something to do with that influence, but realize her true and giving heart guides her positive outlook and kind deeds.
One night in September, at four weeks old, I found myself tossed out like a forgotten food wrapper. My left eye hurt from an injury. I don’t remember how I was hurt. I remember feeling cold, hungry, frightened, and wet. The rain poured down, drenching my fur and causing it to stick to my skin in wet mats. I couldn’t stop shaking. I felt weak, and only wanted to be safe and loved.
I traveled from bush to bush. Every noise caused me to jump. Where was my birth mother and my siblings? I missed them and didn’t know how to return to my home. I didn’t recognize a sound or smell. I knew I had to be strong or a mean person, cat, or dog would hurt me. Though I was young, I’ll never forget those feelings of being rejected. I was on my own and only want to survive the night.
I crept close to houses. I cried as loud as I could. I was desperate to be rescued, but no one turned on a light or peeked through a window.
I’m strong. I won’t give up.
Another home is ahead. Again I cry loudly and mournfully. What is that? A door is opening from that house. Someone is coming near. I sense kindness. Your warm hands pick me up and embrace my heart. I’m too weak and young to know how to purr. But I can kiss. Even though my throat is dry from incredible thirst, I manage to kiss your finger to express my thanks.
You bring me in from the cold, dry my fur, and give me food. You say my eyes are a vivid blue, though I don’t understand that. From the first, your voice makes me joyful and feel secure. I curl up in your lap and snuggle close to you in that warm towel. The sound of your heartbeat comforts me and allows me to release my fear. My only thought is, I have a mommy and she loves me. Peaceful dreams come to me that night. It’s been so very long since I dared to sleep more than a few minutes at a time.
You take me to the doctor for a checkup and to have my eye fixed. I’m scared, but won’t let that kind man know it. He seems nice and is gentle. I’m glad to have my eye feel better. I had almost gotten used to the pain.
You take such good care of me and pet me so gently that I forget my fearful beginnings. Every now and then all those fears and bad images flash in front of my eyes, and I lash out—not to be mean, but because of the trauma of being rejected so cruelly and I’m again scared.
I love your kisses and cuddles. You give me treats, toys, and gentle words. I couldn’t want for a better home or for a nicer mom. Be patient with me. I’m still learning how to belong to you and the rules that I must now live by. Every day, I’m doing my best.
I will always love you,
Draper xxoo, meow with purrs and kisses
© 2016 Cynthia B. Ainsworthe
Cynthia B. Ainsworthe writes suspenseful romance. She has won multiple writing awards. Though she writes mostly romance, her short stories cross many genres. She loves animals and is a parent of five poodle children. Ms. Ainsworthe is currently finalizing Forbidden Footsteps book 3, and writing Dangerous Reach book 4 in her Forbidden Series. A lover of culinary arts, Passion in the Kitchen, is a whimsical approach to French cuisine with delicious recipes, a romantic story thread, and luscious photos of shirtless men.