A tail of it's own

Time is not something that exists in our kind. For me, waking up in the dark is natural because I am hungry and going to sleep is almost a sport I enjoy. I have no places to go, my meetings with friends happen spontaneously in the garden at night, and I am proud of the space I occupy in her bed.

Her bed is like sleeping on a cloud of blue tones, and her touch on my head is the balm I need to return to my uninterrupted sleep. She is gentle, she takes care of feeding me, and she changes my water. Although, sometimes she can be disrespectful, like when she tries to clean my ears and eyes despite my attempts to escape.

I was not aware of this concept of time until I saw her change. I have been by her side for 6 years, I don't have many memories of my childhood beyond feeling helpless and seeking warmth. Without realizing it, my size and voice changed and the toys that once entertained me were no longer the same as before.

Whenever I speak, she listens to me carefully and tries to communicate, but never succeeds. Feeling sorry, I answer to make her believe that I do understand what she is saying, even though the reality is different.

Our coexistence has always been defined by an elegant complicity and simplicity. We wake up together, unless I feel hungry early in the morning. We have our first meal in the morning, then one in the afternoon, and we finish in the evening with a dinner. Sometimes, she rewards me by preparing special wet food that comes with an amazing sauce. It always has me licking my plate at the end.

Life was peaceful and seemed to go smoothly. I was happy. Immensely happy, even if my face didn't show it. Everything changed one day when she came from outside and didn't let go of that object that lights up her face when it's getting late. From tapping the surface countless times to laughing all by herself. Something was happening, but at the time I was unaware of the consequences it would bring.

One morning, she started talking to this device. As if she was practicing a monologue, I felt that she never shut up. The strangest thing that happened was when she would finish talking and start rolling around on the bed, laughing and holding me in her arms. She looked pleased, yet I didn't understand why.

I found myself with a pile of clothes in the room. I had watched her wear several of them and now there were floor waiting for something, waiting for what? Then she brought a bag and put everything in it, and I saw her through the window leaving the sack of clothes on the edge of the street. I stood watching, waiting to see what was going to happen, the only thing was to see a person take the bag and carry it away silently. I wondered what she was going to use now, as it seems that her kind does enjoy covering themselves in layers of fabric.

Before I knew it, packages started arriving at our house. She would open her eyes in excitement every time she heard the doorbell ring. Between clothes, paints she put on her face and handbags, she began to change the way she looked at herself in front of the mirror next to my sandbox.

Sometimes she seemed to have secret conversations with the mirror. She would stand in front of it and her expression would change from one to the other; from happiness to dissatisfaction. She would turn around and around, her eyes becoming like two magnifying glass inspecting every corner of her reflection. When this kind of ritual was over, she would put on shoes and her pink sunglasses.

She began to spend less and less time in the house. That didn't mean she forgot to feed me or change my sand, but there were no more morning cuddles, no more naps after lunch, or our special dinners at night. I didn't mean to take it personally, I also have my own life when the light hides and the darkness enters through the window.

I am not proud to share this, however there was one morning I woke up nervous after having a nightmare about mice being larger than myself. So I ask her to pet me with her soft gentle touch, however I don't think she heard me. At that moment she was having another one of those long conversations that I don't understand where they start or where they end. I didn't want to insist and tried to go back to sleep.

If I had any notion of what the passage of time is, I would say that it resembles a bowl with water that hasn't been changed for more than a day. It may look normal to the naked eye, but I can see how it gathers dust and small hairs, which immediately ruins my thirst.

Something happened. Unexpected. She came suddenly into the room and threw herself on the bed. She lay still until I slowly began to hear a high-pitched, cracking sound. Her voice changed completely, as she tried to melt into the pillow. Her eyes kept gushing water, and the color of her face went from a pale pink to a furious red that covered her cheeks.

If I had a watch I would have calculated how long she stayed in that state, so I'd say it felt like watching five bowls of water turn dirty. I jumped onto the bed and went over to look at her closely. Perhaps, she needed a couple of words of reassurance, but we don't speak the same language. I had never seen her like this. I thought, maybe it would be good if I was the one caressing this time. Furthermore, I brought my tail closer and played a song from within me so that she would notice my presence.

Then she took me between her hands and placed me on her chest. I could feel the familiar warmth that had made me feel safe the day we met. I don't know if my species has the ability to generate water from the eyes like she can, but if I could, I would have accompanied her. Perhaps, with the two of us, we could have changed the water on my plate.

When we had breakfast I could see that her eyes looked like they had received bee stings, as if they were two puffy clouds. She tried to talk to me, and I answered with my typical short phrases: food? Cuddles? When we were finished, I saw her looking at herself in the mirror in complete silence. As if she was looking for something she had lost.

This time I plucked up my courage and asked her for a pat on my head. She listened to me and I could tell she was looking straight into my eyes. If time were something that existed in my kind, I would say that when I am with her, I don't want it to move forward.