My name is Willow.

Possible trigger warning of child adoption and animal euthanasia.

My name is Willow. I am eight years old, but everyone says that when they look into my eyes they

sense an “old soul”, whatever that means. I have very long black hair that everyone says is pretty

and I had a happy life at the start.

Before dad had left (mum said he “passed on” but that he didn’t mean to leave us) he had been

the centre of my world. He had the best games, the warmest cuddles, the sneaky treats given to

me with a wink and the loudest laugh. He had started going away for a day or two at a time until

he was gone more than he was at home. Each time he had come back he had seemed older and

weaker, and he had brought a funny smell into the house. I don’t know what it was but it made me

crinkle my nose, like when mum put on too much perfume except this didn’t even smell like

flowers.

Eventually he left and never came back and it was just mum and me. She seemed really sad and I

knew just how she felt. She fed me and kept me clean and warm and would read to me. I returned

the favour by teaching her how to be close and cuddle and I taught her the games I used to play

with dad. I pretty much stopped sleeping in my bed altogether and I’d sleep where dad used to

sleep, right next to her, as if we were both reaching out for him and eventually found each other.

Sometimes people would visit us and they would comment on how well behaved and pretty I was

and mum would beam with pride. Slowly the sadness we both felt shifted and we became a solid

mother and daughter team of which dad would have been proud.

One day a new bed appeared and this one was tall and narrow and put in the downstairs living

room, right where the couch used to be. I had to go back to sleeping in my own bed. Even worse,

this new bed had a smell that reminded me of the time when dad had left us. Now when people

visited they ignored me even though I tried to look nice and entertain them. It seemed like the

adults didn’t like me much anymore and would shoot me glares from within quiet conversations to

which I was not invited but heard my name.

One day some adults took the bed, with mum still in it, and that’s when my world came crashing

down. They bundled me up in blankets, even though I wasn’t cold and took me away. They said I

was so pretty that someone was sure to want me, but my mind was so paralysed with fear and

grief that I barely registered the word “adoption”. All of the things that went with me had to fit in

one little bag and I couldn’t take my favourite blanket. I kept asking them to get it but they either

didn’t listen or just didn’t care.

I was taken to a horrible place where the others were much younger than me and we all had to

share rooms and sleep in bunk beds. I guess they didn’t have parents or theirs had “passed on”

too. Most of them were only two or three and I had no interest in the games they played. I could

barely understand them, I guess from only really having been around adults. The adults here were

lovely but there were so many of us that none of us really got any attention as they were just too

busy. Some of the younger ones would snuggle and play with eachother but there was no one my

age to even think of developing a friendship with and I just kept to myself and missed my dad and

my mum.

I’d seen places like this on the tele and they were called orphanages for the kids and homeless

shelters for the adults. I’m not exactly an adult and I had a home so I suppose that makes this

place an orphanage. The people on the tele in places like this were almost always covered in

blankets. I wished I had mine still. The adults were worried that I would not get adopted as I was

not as cute as the littlies and people might think there was something wrong with me. I tried my

best to get on with the others but their games just didn’t interest me and I was labelled to be not

good with youngsters. I retreated further into my shell and watched the days whizz by in a steady

stream of fear, loneliness and cheap bland meals.

At last, a nice lady came and told me that my time had come! I straightened my long black hair

and made myself presentable to meet my new parents and wondered who they were and what

they were like. I was taken to a small room to wait for them. I recognised the smell immediately as

the smell of people being taken away and got excited that I too, was going to be leaving this

place.

A lady that I had met before came in. Last time I had seen her she had given me a needle so I

guessed she was a doctor. Then she had been smiling and full of happiness and energy. She told

me I was gorgeous and gave me treats.

But not today.

Today she looked tired and sad, and reminded me of my mum, who looked like that for a long

time after dad left.

She was holding a needle but that didn’t scare me. All the fuss the youngsters make of needles is

silly, because they don’t really hurt and you get a yummy treat after!Wondering about her sadness, I was only vaguely aware of her holding my arm and making it feel

icy cold with something that smelt like people leaving. Maybe she was thinking about her mum

and dad as I’m sure I look that way when I think about mine.

The needle hurts a bit more than I remember and so I flinch, but the nice lady tells me it’s OK and

I relax a little. She says “goodbye”, which I thought was strange as my new parents weren’t here

yet. I saw a tear slide down her cheek. I tried to tell her that it was OK, that the needle didn’t hurt

that much and it wasn’t her fault if it did and that I was going to be OK and that I would be a really

good girl. Only my voice wouldn’t work. I got so sleepy it just wouldn’t work.

I wake up in a giant bed, laying in a sunbeam cascading through the window as if it were made of

magic. My mum and dad are both there! I wake them up over the moon with excitement and they

laugh and gently push me away from their just woken up faces, but I know they have missed me

and are just as happy as I am.

There is no smell of going away anymore, and I think it’s because we are there already. There is

just sunshine and love, safety and warmth.

We are all together.

My name is Willow and I am one happy little old cat.