Sad goodbyes and happy returns

The first time Mom left me I hated her! I was so angry, I got sick again. I know now that she had to go, but then…

Not even two months old, I was left alone with my Step-Dad. My teeth problem came back and I got an intestinal infection because of it and because I thought that Mom left me for good. Step-Dad was trying to replace her as hard as he could.

Well, that time he was just Dad, who I loved almost as much as Mom, as she tells me. Almost! But he would go away for more than three months, while I’m still a baby, and I would forget him, and I would get used to Mom being 100% mine. Later I would learn to share her with him, of course, but I would not learn to love him as much as before. Sometimes he feels sad about it, I can see that, but I can’t do anything with it. We are two men having the same woman to love, and I it is hard, you know. Really hard. I want her to belong to me completely!

Going back to that first sad experience, I can say that hearing Mom on the phone helped me somehow. She was telling me that she loved me and that she would return soon, but I was too small to understand her words clearly. Still, it helped and by the time she returned I was eating my milk again and getting stronger.

Did I tell you that I was angry at her? I did tell her that for sure. Step-Dad was not home, working, and at first I thought that some stranger stepped inside our big box and started calling me, so I hid myself inside the desk. When I understood who it was, I rushed out to show her how I felt. I was hissing at her and roaring with my little voice, and even hitting her with my tiny paws to show her how deep she hurt me, how scared I was and how I missed her. I stopped only when she started crying. Men can’t stand women’s tears, right, guys?

It took me a while to get used to stay without her for some time and to be happy when she returned. She had to train me and herself to stay apart. At first a couple of hours were a torture for both of us. Coming back home, she would hold me in her arms or put me on her shoulder, and stroke me, and tell me many nice words. I guess she missed me not less than I missed her. Then she made herself go away for three hours and then for four. I was fine with that, but the day she left me for five hours for the first time, I got mad again. Fifteen hours of revenge were waiting for her upon coming back that day.

She doesn’t leave me often, no, but I still remember how I would run after her, jump on her back, begging to take me with her. Every time I would wait for her at the same spot she has left me, near the door. And I still wake up during my day nap to check if she is home. If she is close, when I open my eyes, I just purr a bit, if I can’t see her, I ran to find her and to rub against her before going back to my deserved rest.

My life stops when my Mom goes away without me and it starts again, when I hear her approaching footsteps. I’m so glad she knows that and tries not to leave me alone. She’s working from home now, at least trying too. I might demand too much of her attention, but she still has a lot of free time, while I am napping, right?


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