The story of a bed

I remembered the day when Papa and Mama welcomed me, and my sister, Sparky, to the home in Tewkesbury. They prepared a little bed that was soft and blue with printed grey and brown kittens just like the pair of us. At the time, we were less than a quarter's size of the bed. We cuddled our tiny bodies, slept and played together in it.

The little bed eventually could not hold both of us as we grew and grew. We had to take turns sometimes, yet, I never grew out of my attachment to its comfort and protection.

I had slept in it, wrestled and won numerous kitty fights in it. Occasionally, I buried my head underneath the bedding and passed liquids and solids in it when I was desperate or distressed. I had taken drug in this bed and vomited. At those nights without Sparky, I embraced it, thinking of her. This little bed in blue was mine, mine, mine until Yuki came and gave birth to Peno, and Peno gave birth to her first four babies.

The little bed was washed again and again. Time after time, it became ragged. One day, I made a mess in it again - because I was particular that I would either shit in open air or in this little bed. It was a no fake-sand day. And on that exact day, Mama decided to retire the little blue bed that had seen my transformation (enlargement) over the last five years.

Bye bye, my sweet little bed.

Misty