Locked In – The Story of a Cat

"Mew," I whimper softly, poking at the front door with my silky paws. "Mew…" Please, please let me out. My family's forgotten me. I don't want to stay here all by myself…1

I glance around the empty house, and my whiskers droop. Everything's gone. The couches, the books, the television, the chairs, the table, the beds – everything. Even the food. And that's how I know they're not coming back. They left without me, and the door's locked, and I'm trapped in here without anything to eat.2

I run over to the window, and I can see them pulling out from the driveway in that big white truck. I heard them call it a "moving truck." That's rather silly of them, if you ask me – all trucks move.3

All last week they were loading things into that truck, until nothing was left in the house. I watched them putting everything in it, and I wondered why they would rather live in that truck than in this nice house. I don't like trucks. They're smelly and they move while you're in them, and they just aren't the same as being at home.4

But I'd rather be in that smelly old truck than stuck in here without anyone to talk to and anything to eat.5

The truck drives off down the road, and I feel like a piece of me dies inside. I could have forgiven that truck for being smelly, if only it if had let me come along too. I could have forgiven Lauren for dropping me on the carpet last week, if only she would have remembered me. I could have forgiven Timmy for hiding my squeaky toys, if only he would have remembered me. I could have forgiven Sierabelle for forgetting to feed me once, if only she would have remembered me.6

But no. None of them remembered me. Not one of them. After all, what am I? Only a little cat, nothing significant in any way. Only an unhelpful creature from outside the family who gets to live in the house without paying rent. Only a pet. I can easily be replaced. There are probably thousands and thousands of cats nearby who they could buy to take my place.7

I curl up into a ball and lie on the cold floor, missing the feel of the carpet that used to be here.8

I am all alone.9

That is something new for me – there's always been someone to play with me, someone who would feed me, someone who would pet me. I've been spoiled, haven't I? Maybe I deserve this. Maybe if I hadn't always been wasting my time going up to people and demanding their attention, I would have actually learned something useful. Like how to break out of a locked house.10

Suddenly, my ears perk up. I can hear the sound of a vehicle moving into the driveway. I run over to the window, my jade eyes bright and searching.11

It's the moving truck.12

And I must say, I have never been so happy to see a dumb, smelly old truck.