A House Full of Animals

There is always a sound in this house.

Tiny feet crossing the floor. A tail hitting a chair. A complaint from someone who ate ten minutes ago and has already forgiven themselves for lying.

There is fur where fur should not be. There are bowls, blankets, medicines, and names called into every room.

It is not a quiet life.

It is better.

Here, love has paws, feathers, whiskers, and the complete certainty that my lap belongs to somebody else.