Every day it’s the same thing. We spend a wonderful night together, and she leaves me for the day. Sometimes I’m tossed on the pillows, others I’m tucked into the blankets. I know she’s busy supporting us, but sometimes I wish she would take me with her. Why can’t I go away with her like the big wolf who stole my friends? She takes him everywhere with her, but what makes him so special.
I know she cares about me.
The way she cuddles around me, wraps me in her arms like something precious shows me just how much. We used to spend all of our time together back when we lived in a place that was so cold that she’d rarely be without me in her arms. We’d stay up for hours and watch movies and television on her laptop, and she’d hug me tighter whenever she watched a scary show.
Those were the days. She’d only be gone a few short hours and then I’d be back in her arms for a nap, or her lap while she did her homework. I remember there was one time where she didn’t leave us for more than a few minutes over a matter of days. She’d come back to us shivering, jumping into bed, and turning up the heat on her electric blanket.
She’s getting older, and maybe that’s why she wants to spend less and less time with me. Am I just a reminder of her younger self? Maybe she just wants to cuddle the wolf instead of me. After all, he’s newer to her life than I am. I’ve tried getting along with him, and she’s protected me from his big teeth, but it seems like he’s out to steal all her attention. The other night he cuddled with me, but when mom tried to steal me back, he grabbed me in his mouth and ran around the room.
I was terrified for my life!
But she got me back safe and sound. She kept me in her arms the rest of the night and refused to let me go. The smile on my face got even wider. Since then, she’s shown me how much she’s trying. She keeps me happy and healthy and smelling like lavenders. Those are my favorite flowers. She tries to stay home more often, and keeps me with her whenever she takes a nap on the couch. I don’t like it there as much as her bed, but who am I to complain? She loves me. I know I whine and complain, but at the end of the day, she comes back to me. I can’t ask for more than that.