My soft heart

It’s almost 10 pm.

Sobaka has gone home, so I am alone in my bed.

I’ve had a long hard week month. But I know next month will be easier.

I closed Nala and the budgies alone in my room when I went to work, started Sesame Street to keep Nala company and made the decision not to come home for lunch because I can only stay 10 to 15 minutes and that might cause more confusion and anxiety than it prevents.

And Nala seemed fine when I got home but she may be missing a few more neck feathers. I adopted the bird version of a “cutter.”

The teenager had some friends over, and I agreed to drive one of them home. I retrieved Nala after work and introduced her.

But Sobaka got jealous, barked a lot and so when I tried to put Nala on the dishwasher, Nala bit me, hard. I flinched, that’s the best way I can describe it and Nala almost fell off me. We were both disoriented and I felt terrible for not alleviating Nala’s distress.

We had tea together as I did some kitchen chores and then I brought Nala up to the quiet bedroom, leaving the dog with the teenagers.

Harry Belafonte’s “Angelina”didn’t even brighten her mood and that’s her favorite song.

And then I played a trick on her. About 7 pm, I started watching Gordon Ramsay in my room in the dark hoping Nala would fall asleep before I needed to chauffeur the high school children.

At 7:30, I left the iPad playing and crept out of the room in the dark. Nala yelled for me, but I had to go. When I returned an hour later, she didn’t hear me come in the front door. I think she went to sleep!

As if my soft heart doesn’t have enough to deal with, YouTube has been suggesting I watch a video of a kitten name Smurf who was given to a dog as a chew toy. My daughter watched it, and assured me it had a happy ending but I couldn’t endure it.

It just makes me ask again and again why people are so selfish and cruel.

And I said to my beautiful daughter, “That’s why I don’t want to separate those kittens. They are siblings. They deserve to be together.”

She tells me again that the latest kitten (whom we call “Fog”) is terrified of her and that her friend will be the best home. That we can’t afford and don’t need four cats.

She’s right.

But they are cute babies and I want to be sure they have a good and happy life.

Pout.

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