We were both adopted, my brother and I, as was our sister who died only a few years after we joined the family.  It was sad and we missed her terribly.  I wish we’d known her better.

But my brother and I grew up together as we were adopted just a few weeks apart.  We were quite close, as you can imagine, and we did almost everything together.

Oh how we played.  We would run, hide, hunt, leap, climb, explore, and everything else you can imagine.  Gosh, we really did love each other a whole lot.

In fact, I never realized how much we loved each other until we were apart.  Apart for any reason, that is.  We just couldn’t survive without each other.

My brother, Heathrow, was the hunter in the family.  He loved to be outside and always brought goodies home to Daddy.  Whether it was a bird, a squirrel, a snake, a lizard, a bug, or even the neighbors’ pet rabbit, he sure could hunt.  He was the best hunter, and I’m not just saying that because he was my older brother; he really was the hunter’s hunter.

He loved to roam and explore the great outdoors.  I always liked to stay close to home, preferring to be at home and with Daddy more than without him.  Heathrow loved Daddy, too.  Don’t get me wrong on that count.  It’s just that he also loved being on his own to do his thing.  Sure, he’d always come back, but he loved the freedom to come and go.  I just loved home and Daddy and my brother.

He was the better climber, of course, but I’m sure that’s only because he loved being outside more than I did.  It’s also something that comes with being a good hunter (so Daddy once told me).  I, on the other hand, was the better eater.  I never got fat because of it, but I taught my brother a thing or two about enjoying food.  He taught me a thing or two about the world that existed only on the other side of the door.

I was also the better lover.  I never could be away from Daddy for too long.  Heathrow loved Daddy and showed it in all sorts of cool ways, but I had more experience and got better at it.

Heathrow even tried to teach me how to be a better hunter, climber, and all around predator, but I was never good at that no matter how hard he tried.  Maybe I wasn’t interested enough because I always knew home was where my heart was.

Then one day my brother didn’t come home.  Daddy was sad.  He cried.  I cried with him.  In fact, I even made Daddy laugh once, laugh right through his tears, because I bellowed and wailed while I sat in his lap during one of those crying sessions.  I was so happy to see Daddy smile even though it was only for a very brief moment.  We wanted Heathrow back; we missed him terribly.  And I knew I couldn’t take that pain away from Daddy.  And I realized he couldn’t take mine.  There was just this big hole where Heathrow once lived.  It was a sadness that I’d never known before, and it rested on us day and night like a thick choking smoke that filled the house.

I couldn’t go outside for several days because Daddy was too upset about my brother.  He was afraid I might leave too, I guess, even though I never would.  I’d never leave Daddy.  But I did want to go outside to see if I could find Heathrow.  After I begged and begged and cried and begged some more, I got my wish a few days later.

That’s when I caught a glimpse of my brother.  He was hurt, but he was definitely alive.  I could hear his cries and found him resting his wounded body just a short distance from where we lived.

I tended his wounds and made sure he knew I was there for him.  After I was sure he was OK, I ran home to get Daddy.  He knew something was wrong as I screamed and yelled for him to come.

“What is it, Sebastian?” he asked several times.  I told him over and over again that I found Heathrow and he needed to come with me.  Finally, he understood.  He put on his jacket and some shoes and followed me outside.

But Daddy was too slow and couldn’t keep up with me.  I ran back to where my brother was and kept calling to Daddy so he’d follow.  He was very smart and would know how to find us.

I told my brother Daddy was coming, he’d help, and he’d make everything better.  That seemed to lift Heathrow’s spirits.  But he couldn’t wait for Daddy to arrive, so I helped him stand up and walked with him—very slowly—back towards Daddy’s voice which we could hear calling out to us.

As we walked, I noticed Heathrow was hurting a lot.  The twinkle in his eye was dimmer than it had ever been.  I wept for him as we made our way toward safe arms and home and love.  I’d make sure my brother was OK, and I knew Daddy would take care of us both.

We got to the road and saw Daddy on the other side.  He was worried.  His voice was quivering as he called out to us.  It was dark and his eyes didn’t work as well as ours.  I knew he probably couldn’t see us very well, and he hadn’t seen us yet.  Even from that distance, I could tell he was crying, so I called out to him to let him know we were OK and would be there soon.

He turned to look at us and burst into greater tears.  It was joy.  He could see my brother and he could see me.  I knew everything would be OK.  I told Heathrow that as he saw Daddy and perked up a bit.

We started to cross the road and Daddy came running.  We couldn’t move very fast since Heathrow was hurt, so we took our time.  Daddy, on the other hand, was rushing as quickly as he could.

All of a sudden, there was a loud noise, a roar of some kind, and a lot of light.  I heard Daddy scream and saw him burst into the road waving his hands.  But the sound came closer and I couldn’t watch Daddy anymore.  I had to see what was happening, what was coming toward us.

I looked down the road and the lights and roar came rushing at us.  It was closer to my brother, so I leaped over him and tried to protect him from the attacking monster.

I could hear Daddy’s wail as the brightness and noise finally reached where we stood.  My brother and I were both thrown into the darkness of dusk, and all I could remember, as the world washed away in blackness, was the sound of Daddy’s crying as he held us close.  At least I was with him and Heathrow.  That’s all I ever really wanted.

[this is an allegory about two cats with whom I previously shared a home]