Pet Talk

by Heather  Miller
www.houltonanimalshelter.com
    I wake up to the jingle of the bell on the door. The old familiar sound I have heard for so many mornings. I open my eyes and take a big stretch. Well, that didn’t feel too good. I hit the food dish, so I try to stretch the other way and that’s not good either. I have hit the wall. So I do my best to get in a good morning stretch, despite the small space. Nothing will get me down today because as I stretch I think, “Today is my day.”
    The noises have started. I hear their feet shuffling on the floor. I hear the water running and the washer start. I hear them laughing as their shadows go by the door. I’ve heard it all for so long, I know the routine. So I sit and I wait, patiently, while purring inside because I know, “Today is my day.”
    Every door I hear I think, “is it my turn? Are they coming in here?” It seems like forever, when, finally, the door opens. In comes the girl I’ve come to know as my angel. I can tell by the look on her face, she’s tired. The noises have been constant this morning. They have been so busy. She comes in with her arms full. I wish I could lend her a paw. I wish I could help. She puts down all the stuff and looks at all of us, reaching our paws out to her, hoping she will open our door first. But, despite my good efforts, she starts at the other end of the room. So I sit and I wait. This won’t get me down. I know “Today is my day.”
    I know I have some time before she gets to me, so I decide to pretty myself up for the big day. I clean my feet, licking every hair between my toes. I clean out my tail. You’d be surprised how dirty it gets back there. I can’t forget my ears. My mom always told me to wash behind my ears. I clean myself all over. I must say I look pretty good, ready for my day.
    Wait, here she comes. It’s my turn. She opens the door and scratches me all over. I want to tell her to be careful, I just groomed, but it feels so good, I let her continue. She picks me up and cuddles me. I could stay in her arms forever, but we both know she has to work. She finishes her patting and puts me on the floor. And I am off like I’m on fire. I haven’t run and played since yesterday when she was in here, I’m taking advantage of this. I run and I jump. I roll around. Boy it feels good to roll around. I’m playing, I’m running, I’m jumping and then I see her. She’s coming for me. No not yet, I tell her. I’m not ready yet. She catches me, but not without a good escape effort on my part. She holds me again. Boy, I really like it when she does that. But then I see her walking toward my cage. Is it time already? She puts me back in my cage, pats me on the head and shuts the door. That’s it. It’s over again. Playtime is done. Most days this would upset me, but not today. Because I know this is the last time for this routine. “Today is my day.”
    She cleans up her mess and shuts the door. I won’t miss the sound of that door. I eat my breakfast and decide to take a nap. I’ll hear my new family when they come in. So I close my eyes and drift off. It’s so quiet in here. It seems like I just fell asleep, when I hear it. The door opens, it’s my family. It’s my day. I open my eyes and look around. But wait, it’s my angel. She’s back again. She walks by all our cages, filling our water bowls and straightening up our blankets. She gives us all a quick pat on our heads and shuts off the lights and closes the door. I hear the washer stop. I don’t hear them talking anymore. There are no more shadows under the door. The lights are off. And then I hear it, the jingle of the bell. Only this time, it’s different … this time they are leaving.
    I realize at this moment, today wasn’t my day. Today wasn’t the day I get a new family. So I curl back up, close my eyes and take a deep breath. I think to myself, as I drift off to sleep, tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow is “my day.”