Well, a couple of weeks have passed and some major changes have occurred. I’m afraid to report that I am entirely in the dark, too. Grrr, if only I could speak I think I could rectify my current situation!
My bachelor-owner-friend, Chris, is getting married this weekend. I forgot to mention before that Chris became otherwise engaged recently. His girlfriend is now his fiancé, and I found myself playing second fiddle for the first time. That’s a figurative phrase of course. A bobcat playing an instrument is a ridiculous notion, though quite hilarious. And I do love bluegrrrass music.
So it was that Chris became engrrrossed in his new life with his soon to be wife, I was given less and less attention. I admit I was and am still a bit hurt because he used to acknowledge me when he came in the door, but how quickly I went from acknowledgement to abandonment. I now find myself locked behind a different door altogether. I now find myself utterly alone and confused as to what went wrong. Constantly I must ask myself, how can I compete with the living? Especially a living human of the female persuasion. But, such is life. Or death. Well you know what I mean.
The fiancé, Kara is her name, is a lovely girl. She really is, and beautiful, too. Even I can see this. I do not hold ill will toward any animal. That is my prerogative. I believe one should forgive and forget. I will say, however, that though I have forgiven the cute couple, it is hard to forget the fact that I am now locked up in a closet, which I do not find so cute. All I ever wanted was to love and be loved. Apparently Kara does not love me. This is problematic as Chris loves her, and thus my fate is sealed. I think if only she gave me a chance I could grrrow on her.
So I am trying to remain positive. Maybe this will all end once the honeymoon period is over. Chris will discover me, in the back of the guest room closet, and be reminded of the affection he once had. He will gently explain to Kara that I am a family heirloom of sorts and I should be on display. I should be the first thing one sees on entering el casa de Chris y Kara. I picked up some Spanish this year on Cinco de Mayo. One of Chris’s friends, in his drunken state, actually tried to feed me a Corona. I imagine it tasted nice and refreshing, though of course I have no idea. But I digrrress…
All that to say, I refuse to give up hope! I have been through too much grrrief in my existence and non-existence to lose my profound sense of optimism – the one thing that carries me through. I’ve decided to approach this period of my death as a philosophical respite. I have time now, much like the great monks or yogis throughout the ages, to focus inward and grow into the inanimate object I was created twice to be. Some animals would kill for this opportunity. Solitude is a journey in and of itself. Kara will come around. I have faith in her, but for now, I still say that life (within this lifeless body) is beautiful.
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