Chapter 17
Mickey
“You can judge a man’s true character, by the way, he treats his fellow animals,”
~Paul McCartney~
From that point on, things started to go downhill fast. I realised that Paul didn’t have to look for a reason to abuse me; he would create situations and blame it on me. Then blame me for his actions. I got used to the emotional abuse on a daily basis, but the physical attacks seemed to happen on a cyclical basis. There would be a couple of weeks buildup between outbursts. Back then I didn’t realise it was a pattern. I was afraid of him; I was scared that he would once again try to kill me, like the day he pulled the trigger and missed me by centimeters. The problem was, I didn’t know when that day would finally arrive. Things were already building up to the next outburst, which could have been about anything.
One Saturday Paul and I drove to a nursery not far from where we lived, to buy a plant for the flat. There was a litter of kittens walking around the premises. One of them was so adorable; I picked him up and carried him around while we looked for the perfect plant. When we got to the till, I asked the lady if the kittens were for sale. She explained that they would give them away for free to a good home. I thought to myself, “I would love one, but I don’t have a safe home for him to grow up in.” Our home was toxic, with way too much pain and sadness in the air. She asked me if I wanted one and I told her that if I could get one, I would have taken this one. I loved him already. She smiled and rang the plant up. After we paid, and I started to walk away, she called after me.
“Miss, if you change your mind, I’m taking them to the SPCA early next week.” I just smiled sadly, knowing that I would have loved one.
The New Year was approaching, and I wondered what lay ahead for me. I was quite enjoying my new job and loved my flat, but there was something missing.
A few days later, Paul picked me up at work and said that his mother had invited us to dinner and asked if I wanted to stop at the flat before we went to the house. I told him no, that I didn’t need to anything at the apartment, so we drove straight over. When we arrived, Paul told me to wait outside. He went in and left me standing in front of the house. Seconds later he came back with his hands held out and a towel thrown over them. He said to me, “Azelene can you lift the towel?" I took one corner of the towel and pulled it off. In his hands was the kitten that I had cuddled at the nursery a couple of days earlier.
“You have no idea how long it took me to locate this little guy! When I got back to the nursery, they told me that the owner had taken them away two days ago. They couldn’t find the owner and I remembered that she had said she was going to take them to the SPCA. But, when I arrived they told me they weren’t there. They sent me to three pet shops and eventually I located him at the last pet store I went to.” I took him out of Paul’s hands and started to cry. He was the most beautiful cat I had ever seen.
“Thank you so much, Paul. I wanted this kitten so badly.”
“I’m glad you’re happy with him. I hope that he will bring you lots of love and happiness in the years to come,” Paul said, smiling at us.
“I am going to call him Mickey.”