When I first held him in my arms, I loved him. He did nothing to deserve my love. We barely knew each other. He barely knew the world. He was only 5 months old. But I knew that he deserved to be loved, a safe home, a warm blanket and guaranteed meals. We don’t speak the same language. I pee liquid and he pees solid…
At first, I just watched from a short distance how he moved. I let him get accustomed to his new environment, which was a corner by the window in our first floor apartment.
Now, I check on him in the morning before I make myself breakfast. I refresh his water before leaving the house. I make sure he is warm at night before tucking myself in. I don’t care how much money I spend on his care at the vet or his food – so long as he is healthy and happy. Money: it comes and goes, and it is not mine anyhow.
He was prescribed an antimicrobial medicine for 14 days. I insert the entire syringe down his throat to administer the medicine. To avoid getting any liquid inside his lungs, which are located near the opening of the mouth. I pray just before. For a holy presence to keep him calm and give me strength. I perspire slightly each time I grip his neck to hold his little head steady. It pains me to feel him squirm and tense up uncomfortably, but I do it everyday diligently.
I am learning to handle him with more authority. I am his Mother. His caretaker. His guardian from all harm. I think he knows I am alive when he coils around my hand, or leg when we sit together. We are growing together, It has been a month and a half already. But for now, he is still my baby.