I miss my cat. My little boo-boo bear is lonely at home without me. I feel so badly for her. I really miss her, and I’m pretty sure she misses me. My little picture of her sits on my desk, so I can look at her whenever I want. If I live off-campus next year, I really want to bring her up here to end the separation anxiety I feel.
I’ve always had pets, even when I was younger. They weren’t really conventional pets, though; they more represented a cry for help to my parents. You see, I collected literally hundreds of spiders, lizards, snakes, grasshoppers, wasps and even poisonous caterpillars in my Bug Bottle. Each one received a name and lived with us for anywhere from a few hours to several days. This drove my mother crazy.
Her insanity finally drove her to action one day, when she called about an ad in the paper for a free kitten. Several hours later, a cute little black kitten with golden “streaks” and half of a white moustache joined our household. Her name was Samantha. She and I bonded instantly.
We were like peas in a pod?we did everything together. Samantha followed me around the house, she sat on my lap when I watched T.V. in the living room and at night she slept on my head. (I now have allergies, but I don’t hold it against her.) In the morning when I left, I would be sure to say goodbye, and at night when I got home she would be waiting for me on my bed. She was practically the sister I never had.
I call Samantha “Boo-Boo Bear.” I’ve never quite figured out why … It’s just one of those nicknames that stuck. I think she likes it, though. At least she responds to it. As far as I know she doesn’t have any nicknames for me.
I had to write an essay for my application to Princeton University about my ideal roommate. I decided that my ideal roommate would be someone like Samantha. So I wrote an essay attributing all of my cat’s wonderful qualities to a person. I didn’t get into Princeton.
When people ask me if I miss home while I’m away at school, they’re generally shocked when I respond, “I don’t miss my family. But I really miss my cat.”
I can talk to my parents anytime I want; and in a stretch they can come visit me. But Samantha has none of these options. She doesn’t travel well. (We once took a two-hour car trip with her and she cried the entire time.) And we’ve tried the phone thing?she’s more interested in eating the cord or chewing on the antenna than talking. It’s disappointing, but I’ve resorted to asking my mom to pet her for me. My mom say she purrs. That makes me happy.
