Lily

I don’t have many memories of my childhood, I’ve always been curious but scared of remembering what my brain doesn’t want me to but the animals and insects, I always remember.
Like when I was only a small child I would catch ladybugs and fill a box with leaves and put them in.
Or the canary birds and bunnies who loved to make their homes on the side of the road beside the clay pigeon place in front of my childhood house.
The small black dog that bit me on the hand, I still have the tiny scar over 20 years later and I still remember the stinging sensation of my mom’s perfume on it cause we had no antiseptic left.
The tiny little yorkie my dad came home with and how much I cried when the real owner turned up after I had managed to convince my mom if they didn’t I could keep him.
The small pup my dad brought home and because they thought he wasn’t going to make it, brought the sister a day later only for him to make it.
The sister, Gin and the last pup she ever had, Ichi, hiding under my blankets when I was already a teenager because my parents don’t allow the dogs in the bedrooms but I always bring them in any way.
The black feral cat I begged and begged to keep and I did, she became my shadow and I waited for her 3 days when she left, only to be told the neighbours had hit her with their car by mistake. She was a mother of 5 kittens the year before that, one remained with my sister and she had her eyes.
Rats, I had for some years and every time one passed I got another one so the ones left would not get sad, I stopped having them cause it broke my heart how short their lifespan was.
The rabbit I loved with all my might but I had to give to another family because I decided to move out of the country for a better life and could not bring him with me.
And now is been 5 years and I have no pets, no companions, no purrs and growls of excitement when I get home, no tiny licks and kisses.
But there is a cat, she might not be mine but I know, just as I remember all of them, I’ll remember her when she is not here anymore.
She meows and meows when you come into work, she sits on the sofa and purrs when you touch her.
Her long fur swallows your hand as you scratch her and her disappointed look when you stop cause you have to go back to work breaks your heart.
I miss having a companion, I miss the joy of everything they do, their company and their worry when you’re not well, and the calm they bring you when you need them most.
Their love knows no boundaries and I long for it.
I don’t know who I am without them, all my memories are tied to them and without them, so I look for animals near me I can pet and love, for I’m not me otherwise.
My sister’s cat, my coworker’s dog, a patient’s pet that comes every week to see them.
And now as I write this I recall more and more, silk worms rescued from mulberry trees being taken down, a dog I took care of cause their owner could not for some time, the fosters we took in over summer, a dog I used to pass by every end of shift and will not let me walk until he got pets and praises for being a good boy, the many horses I rode and the ones I always said hello to on my walks around the Spanish countryside.
I miss that love.
I miss a piece of me.