penelope

The first animal I met was a little cockapoo named Penelope. She was my parents first child, and then I came along and she took back seat. That poor little pitiable soul, she was always dragging herself around the house in a depressed state. I remember noticing that and seeing it as weakness. I tried to love her. I'd side up to her pathetic little whimpering form and attempt to hug her, but to be really honest I couldn't handle the dog smell. I was always asking my mother to bathe her, hoping that might change things. Then the second animal came along when I was 9, a little runt of the litter kitten with a white mask. He showed up one night in the form a life size animated scream that had somehow wedged itself up and inside the chasis of my mother's car. By the time I finagled the noise from the car I had already fallen madly in love. From there on out I began obsessing on how a kitten could have possibly created all that racket. For a few years I told anyone who would listen all about the screaming kitten and how it was meant to be and that it was a sign of my true love. I never looked back on Penelope and whenever she followed me around for love she was met with rejection.

She died of distemper but I was too busy to care. To this day I feel bad about that. I know I'd show love to Penelope today. I have always felt guilty about the way I treated that little dog.



posted oct 15, 2008