A Goodbye Note

Dear Mother,

It is with great sorrow that I write this. I’m afraid enough is enough. I have let this matter go on for far too long. Ever since you let that disgusting feline move in, there has been nothing but chaos around here. Firstly, she has been taunting the birds out in the garden every morning. They are constantly squaking and the incessant hissing which has interrupted my peaceful morning routine. I used to enjoy my run around the garden before relaxing by the door chewing on a rawhide shoe. Now when I go for my run that damn cat keeps jumping in front of me. I know she does it on purpose, trying to get me to react. But I have always risen above it.

It is not just her actions that have prompted this letter. You are different since she came along. You have changed. You used to fill my bowl up first thing every morning, we had a routine. Now when I come down to the kitchen I arrive to an empty bowl and your busy fussing over her. I no longer get the scraps at dinner time because she jumps in before me. The final straw was when I walked into the sitting room last night to find her sitting beside you, her filthy head on your lap. Every night for the last five years, I have sat on that couch with you and watched TV. I enjoyed sitting with you; I felt loved. And that cat sitting there, smirking at me has ruined that.

This was intended to be a suicide note. If I don’t have your love and affection I have nothing. But if I went through with that, then she would have won. I will not let that happen. So I have joined the local gang of street dogs. They have already accepted me as one of their own. We will spend our days running through the streets, play, and feast on all the scraps we want.

I hope you and Felix will be happy although I’m sure you will soon realise your mistake. But it will be too late. I have moved on. I have a new family.

Goodbye forever Mother,

Rover