I came home early that day, the office left behind like a battlefield where I had lost a fight I never started. My pets stared at me, their wide eyes full of questions they couldn’t ask but seemed to know. They always knew.
“I’m on probation,” I told them, my voice cracking under the weight of the words. “They say I didn’t do my job, but I did. I swear I did. The secretary lied, and now I’m paying for it.” My pets didn’t blink, didn’t move. I almost wished they could talk, could tell me what to do.
I called my friends, desperate for comfort, but their words hit harder than the accusation. “Your good-girl attitude won’t get you far,” they said. “Look where it’s landed you now.”
I dropped the phone and whispered, “God, please vindicate me,” tears falling faster than my prayers could rise. My bunnies jumped onto the couch beside me, their soft fur brushing against my arm as if to say, ‘we’re here’. But I pushed them away. I didn’t want comfort. I wanted answers.
The night stretched long and cold. I cried myself into a restless sleep, the weight of injustice pressing against my chest. Melody, my cat, curled up by my head, her purring like a lullaby. For the first time that day, I smiled.
The next morning, I dragged myself out of bed to feed the pets. At the aquarium, Presh, my parrot, and Scent, my goldfish, seemed oddly animated. Presh squawked something unintelligible, while Scent splashed water onto my face. It felt deliberate, like they were trying to wake me from my fog of despair.
“Okay,” I said, wiping my face. “I see what you’re doing. Thank you.”
On the weekend, Bell, my dog, refused to let me sulk. He wagged his tail, barked at the door, and dragged my pajamas until I gave in. “Fine,” I said, grabbing his leash. “But just a short walk.”
Five blocks from home, fate shifted. A colleague saw me and asked if I had received the email. “The bosses need to see you today,” he said. “They’ve found something.”
I rushed back home, my heart pounding. My pets watched as I gathered them for a quick prayer. I left, hopeful but cautious, and when I returned, they were waiting at the door, their eyes as expectant as my own.
“The truth came out,” I told them, dropping to my knees. “They found the real culprit. I’m free.”
That night, I thanked God for seeing me through. My friends came over to celebrate, but my heart belonged to the ones who had stayed by my side in silence. The ones who had listened without judgment, who had given without expecting anything in return.
Read – In the Hinterland – A Creative Non-Fiction by Chiamaka Ogbuife – Nigeria
The fish that splashed me awake. The bunny whose soft body could replace a pillow. The parrot who never stopped yapping. The cat who brought me warmth. The dog who refused to give up on me.
They aren’t just pets—they are companions, healers, and friends. They may not speak the way we do, but their love speaks volumes if only you’re willing to listen.
