It has been lonely since Sally left. At first Sam would forget to turn off the lights. On occasion, he leaves a faucet on and the sounds of dripping water echo through the empty house all day. He doesn’t pay attention to his water bill quadrupling in the last few months. But why would he? He never paid the water or any other bills before. It was Sally’s responsibility.
There has not been much food in the house lately. Sam drinks every evening until he falls asleep in the front of the TV.
I missed Sally too, but I have snapped out of the grief. I wonder when Sam will finally get back to his normal self.
Today he left the light on, the faucet running, no food in the house, and the front door unlocked. My last drop of loyalty and patience evaporated when a strong gust of wind hit the door and pushed it wide open. The cold air filled every room and every corner.
I sat by the front door for a while waiting for his return, but there was nothing coming in except the snow piling up on Sally’s favorite green carpet. I decided that today was the worst day of my life and I walked away. I hope to find a better home. I know no one will call me Sally anymore. Sam gave me that name the day he found me on the street and brought me home. He said “Sally meet Sally” and placed me in his wife hands: they were warm and soft, and smelled like milk.
I may not find a home since it is easy to get lost in a snowstorm when your fur is just as white.
© 2011 by Nina K Orlovskaya
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