He ran and hid under the bed like a monster walked into the room. A memory of my father crept into the doorway where I stood looking down at the hardwood floors. My voice, heavy with anger. My heart, filled with love and disappointment all at once.There were fragments of cotton and plastic scattered around the legs of my bed. A pool of what I hoped was water sat still near the wooden chair where I place a few books for nighttime reading. The day had been long.
Thirteen hours had gone by since coffee kissed my lips and I wondered, why on earth should I have to come home to his mess. I could smell shit breathing in a dark corner somewhere. An old pair of socks, attacked by immaturity, were left helpless and out of place. The laundry basket I re-organized long before sunrise had tugged around the room. How did the little rebel find a pair of underwear exposed at the bottom of the bin just enough for him to chew on? I could not have imagined that a ball of white, brown and grey fur could make me so damn angry when just weeks before he was content with being perfectly still, his two pound body curled up at the intersection of my neck and shoulder, his breath still sweet and innocent.
Having another heart beating in my home had been a thought, for four years prior and now I finally had him. I had been searching for the time and the capacity until I realized it would never come. There was my career, my friends, travel. I had no time to care for anything other than myself until I saw those eyes, brown buttons, brown little liars that whispered, I will cause no harm. Who was I to think that he'd just sit there, still and quiet until I returned home?
Who was I to think that he owed me something because I swiped my debit card and rescued him from wires, shreds of old paper and siblings that ate their own feces while he slid into the back corner of a tight space and looked at everything and everyone with suspicion until I held him close and said his name, a name I chose long before I chose him?
There I was, tired, too tired and then suddenly reignited by anger, so palpable, though I chose not to show it. I chose not to say anything or blame him for being a puppy.
I chose to take off my tie. I chose to roll my sleeves up. I chose to step over the pool of whatever and to get on my knees. I chose to lift the bed skirt up and there I found those brown buttons, brown liars that whispered, I know I made a mess again. Love me anyway.
And I do... My God... I do.