OUR BELOVED PETS WRITING COMPETITION
One Shattered Window and My Girl Was Gone
Street life couldn’t prepare her for this
I’d just returned from a weekend away and sighed with relief as I turned the key in the lock. Weekends with my friends were pretty raucous in my 20s — not a lot of sleep was had.
Mojo, my beautiful male cat, came running to the door to greet me. That was not unusual, but his demeanor was. He was wailing — long, insistent howls filled with fear.
Mojo was an almost completely silent cat, except for his jackhammer purring. Until then, I could count the number of times I’d heard his voice on one hand.
Now, here he was, yowling frantically. I threw my bag down, looked at him, and said “What is it? Show me.”
You may think it’s ludicrous to ask a cat a question but animals communicate very clearly if you know how to read them.
He turned around and darted for my bedroom. I followed right behind.
He stopped at the wall and looked up. Then I saw it — a broken window.
The hole wasn’t that big— maybe the width of a jacked man’s bicep. I looked around and nothing else seemed to be broken or missing. The window was at ground level, so someone could’ve hit…