There are many myths and lies about the pound. Many different theories, many different stories. Some of them are true, most of them are not. Why, I don't even know if what I'm saying is true! It's what I remember, though, so I'm telling it.
My name is kata950465. That's right. I bet there are traders and name-seekers out there who cringed at that. No capitalization, and numbers. But I don't really care. I was lucky. I'm not stuck in transfer or in the pound or on an account where I'm sad and hungry. I have an owner who loves me, three sisters, a petpet, and a petpetpet. I should be quite content.
But, there is one thing that I long for. There is no real way to explain it, except to start from the beginning.
I can roughly guess at what happened. Maybe my old owner got tired or me, or maybe he (or she) thought that they couldn't care for me, but whatever happened, I went in the pound. That's where my life begins. In a warm, dry cage, hungry and sad.
Now, let me clear something up. When you go to the pound, you don't get placed in a dark, damp cell, and you don't get your own room. You get a cage, just large enough for you, dry and warm, not wet or cold. They do try to feed you, but not often enough.
When pets go in the pound, they forget things. Their old owners, their old families. Usually they only remember a few things, if they remember anything. I did remember one thing. I have a brother.
I don't really remember his name or his species or his color, I don't even remember if he was nice to me or not. But I had one.
I'm not sure, but I think, I mean, I have a feeling he was either an Eyrie or a Grundo, but I don't know. It's only a hunch.
I would like to meet him. Maybe he's still in the pound, or maybe he's with a new owner, or maybe, just maybe, my old owner never abandoned him.
That's what I long for, to find him, to know him. I might be disappointed. He might be a mean, terrible person, who hates me and bullies me.
But, then again, he might be nice, and he might be happy to see me.
Maybe he wants to meet me, like I want to meet him.
But, then again, there are a lot of maybes. Maybe this, maybe that, but nothing's certain. I highly doubt I'll ever even hear from him.
I remember when I saw Lina. I had asked her, later, why she had walked into the pound. She said that she was curious, to see what it was like. She had never been in there before.
Kimiko was with her. She had seen me first, then tugged on Lina's shirt and pointed towards me. Lina followed her finger and saw me. She walked over and knelt down, looking at me.
I smiled a little, nervous, hopeful. Lina smiled back, wondering. Kimiko smiled broader and waved at me, already planning adventures with her new playmate, her new sibling.
Then Lina asked a very simple question, one that I'll never forget, even if I go into the pound hundred times.
"Would you like to come home?"
What surprised me was the way she said it. Not "Would you like to come home with me?," or "Would you like me to adopt you?," but "Would you like to come home?"
It was like she had already adopted me, and she was just asking whether I wanted to come home yet, or perhaps I wanted to stay a little longer and she'd come back later.
I had nodded, and when the cage was opened, I had practically flown into her arms. She held me there, hugging me, and then put me down next to Kimiko.
There we were, a little family, my family.
It isn't just the three of us, now. Later, we had gotten Sweets, and then Cream. And all of us have our own petpets, and our own petpetpets.
My petpet is a white Bika, whom I named King. He's the sweetest thing. He knows his name, and he'll listen to me when I'm talking to him, always cocking his head to one side as if he was thinking about what I was saying. And he'll sleep with me on my bed (even though Lina says he's not allowed to) and help me in my garden (by eating my flowers and plants).
King's petpetpet is a glack, named Beat. He's really musical. He'll tap out rhythms, and loves to listen to the radio. He'll tap along with anything, whether it's the radio or Cream playing the kazoo.
I had sort of wanted a lightmite as a petpetpet, since they're so pretty, but that was the one rule that Lina was firm with. No biting petpets or petpetpets. And lightmites, although pretty, can bite really hard. But I'm glad, now, that we didn't get a lightmite. I'd much rather have my little Beat.
Later, a whole lot later, when I had first realized that I was badly named, I asked Lina why she had adopted me. I wasn't painted back then, and my name was rather bad.
She stopped what she was doing, sat down on a chair, and held out her arms towards me. I went and hugged her.
"When I saw you...," she began, "I fell in love with you. You were perfect. Such a sweet little blue Aisha then. Although you've grown since then, and you're painted now."
Here she held me at arms length, to get a good look at me. I looked down at myself too. My soft brown coat reminded me of milk chocolate, and my stomach was a creamy color.
I looked up at her, and saw that she was looking me in the eyes.
"You are perfect, because you are you. Your name, and your sisters' names, are the best ones in the world. You know why?"
I shook my head, no.
"Because there's only one kata950465, and I'm lucky enough to have that one kata950465, just like I'm lucky to have Kimiko240 or Creamy_Lemon_Pie or SweetyHeartPteri. Don't ever let anyone tell you that you're badly named, or that you're not a good pet. I wouldn't trade you, or your sisters, for anything. Not even a royal Draik with a real word for a name."
I laughed a little, because she had said the last sentence really sarcastically.
Then I smiled and hugged her.
"I adopted you, because you're my Kata," she said, using my nickname, "and I love you."
I smiled fondly at the memory. I sort of still wished that I knew my brother, but I have my own family now. My own loving, funny, wonderful family. Maybe, maybe I don't really long to meet my brother. Maybe I really am happy, to be lucky enough to have a family has great as mine, and I think that I am.
But, then again, there are a lot of maybes.