I do not remember when and how I reached “Star Pets”, a pet store in Hyderabad. I was there as long as I could remember. As the sole guinea pig among a myriad of chirping birds, cute puppies and curious kittens there, my presence was nothing short of a novelty. The staff, with their gentle hands and warm smiles, bestowed upon me an abundance of affection and treats, making me feel very special. But life, as it tends to do, had a new chapter awaiting me, one that began with the arrival of my tiny furball, my son who instantly became the epicenter of “Star Pets.”
From the moment he came into this world, it was clear he was special. With fur as soft as the clouds at dawn and eyes brimming with boundless curiosity, he captivated the hearts of all who laid eyes on him. My little one, with his playful antics and endearing squeaks, quickly became the star of “Star Pets.” Where once I was the recipient of adoring glances and cooing admirers, now I watched from the sidelines, a proud yet wistful mother, as my son basked in the limelight.
Life was content and peaceful, until the other day when Mr. and Mrs. Sharma came to the pet store. They came to the pet store to get a pet puppy, but the moment they saw us, they were awestruck. They decided to take us their home instead. I was scared and so was my kiddo, when they put us in their car. Enclosed within the car, every turn and halt amplified our anxiety, leaving us clinging to each other for comfort. The world outside whirred by, a blur of colors and shapes, until finally, we arrived at our new home.
The Sharma residence greeted us with an air of warmth and anticipation. Placed gently in our enclosure on the balcony, we were introduced to our new domain, bathed in the soft glow of the evening sun. The offering of carrots, a familiar comfort, helped ease the cloak of fear that had enveloped us during the ride. It was a simple gesture, yet in that moment, it symbolized a bridge between our past and our future.
The children of the Sharma family, wide-eyed and brimming with excitement, approached us with a gentle curiosity that was both heartwarming and reassuring. Their hands, tender and cautious, lifted us from our enclosure, inviting us into their world of laughter and play. They took us out of the enclosure and played with us. That night, as we nestled back into our enclosure, the day’s fears and uncertainties faded into a comforting routine of care and companionship.
Our initial apprehensions about our new life gradually dissipated, giving way to a contentment we hadn’t anticipated. The Sharma family, with their gentle ministrations and joyful enthusiasm, enveloped us in a cocoon of love and security. Every need, every whim, was met with a dedication that spoke volumes of their commitment to our well-being.
As days melded into weeks, our bond with the Sharma family deepened. We became not just pets, but cherished members of the household, our lives intricately woven into the fabric of their daily existence. The children, with their boundless energy and affection, became our companions, their laughter and chatter a constant backdrop to our days. Even the quiet moments on the balcony, under the canopy of stars, became treasured instances of peace and belonging.
But then, everything started to change with the onset of winter. The days grew shorter, and air turned colder. Even though we had furs, they were not sufficient for our needs. The Sharma family had no clue how difficult it was getting for us to bear the biting cold. I would never forget that night, the evil windy night, when the frigid winds kept us awake the entire night. My baby started shivering, his body temperature was riding. I was running around in the cage to call for help, I shouted with all my might, but my pleas fell on deaf ears. I went besides my son, tried to hold him in arms, but he lied there motionless. It was a night of chilling silence.
The next day when I woke up, the entire Sharma family were sad. When Mrs. Sharma came to offer vegetable to me, I could see her eyes, I could see a sense of guilt there. I refused to eat; I was furious. I was sad, I was heartbroken.
For two days, I refused food. Then Mr. and Mrs. Sharma made the decision to take me back to the same pet store where they had found us. As they left me there, my heart was heavy. My cage that had once been a haven of happiness now served as a haunting reminder of my void — a void that no amount of love could ever fill.
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