Sisters in Storms and Smiles

The day we met our new family was the best day of our lives, but it certainly didn’t start out that way. The day started as they always did, with yelling, yelling about the accident on the floor I tried not to make, but really after a whole night had passed what was I to do? Sometimes things stay within a vocal assault and sometimes they escalate, do i look more sorry one day than the next? I am not sure I will ever understand humans and how they work. After the daily release of hate and rage from my mom we were put on our leashes and assumed we would be going for a walk to burn off some energy so we can lay quietly in the corner as our parents want us to. I can’t help but wonder, why not buy another statue if all you wanted was silence and beauty. After a long while of walking as our legs grow weary our human stops and ties us to a stop sign. We whimper and whine as she walks away, while she has left us for days before it has never been outside of the safety of our own home and here, bound like this, we are defenseless. People pass by and give us sad looks and pity pets or take our photos and tell us they hope someone helps us soon but no matter how sad they seem they all walk away, just like our mom. We wait in the heat and lose hope by the moment until a white van pulls up and a small blonde woman hops out. She has water and comes slowly over to us, meekly and calmly asking us how we are and if we are okay, crouching to make herself smaller and slowly moving towards us with a hand outstretched but not irritation or aggression as we have known, is this kindness? I can only tell that she is different from our mom, but different isn’t always good so I keep my eyes trained on her, ready for whatever may come. She stands up, as if to walk away like the other did, and unbinds us from the pole and asks if we would like to come home with her. Aspen bounds into the car, fearless as ever, and settles immediately so I follow suit because no matter where we go, we will go together. A short ride later we are being unloaded by the mystery woman with water from the van to a house. We are taken outside and walked around and then introduced to her husband and children. This home is cleaner than I am used to and I am afraid of making a mess so I lay in a corner, back to the wall to keep an eye on all the movements. Later that night, Aspen yells at the top of her lungs whenever someone comes around and she is thanked but reassured she is ok. She has never heard before, she was only ever treated like background noise or a nusuince but never valued. I still don’t know how I am supposed to act here or how long we will be here but I try and enjoy our new home. I desperately crave the ability to ask them if they want to be our forever family but as long as I stay with my sister I am sure that things will be ok. Sometimes when the food bowl is picked up throughout the day I wonder if it will ever be put back down. And when all the humans leave I don’t know if I will ever be snuggled again. The inconsistency in my life has left me unable to predict the responses my movements will elicit. I lay here with my sister, now warm with full bellies and lots of love and all I can seem to do is remember, remember the times I was not loved, the times I was yelled at or hit, the times I was abandoned. I would love to live in the present and run around without fear but the lessons of my past overwhelm me and bring me to a point of terror even when I know I am safe. Aspen seems to love her home and family but still protects me any time there is a new person or voices are raised. She can feel me shaking and cowering and lets me know I will never really be left alone.