An Isa (IBMC 9/10)

When I fall asleep, it is there. When I wake up, it is there. It is always there. Sometimes closer, sometimes further. Sometimes I can just hear it. Sometimes I smell it. And even if I don’t sense it, I know it’s there. What is it?

It’s not like mum, or the other human that cares for me… err… ‘dad’ they call it? Well, it’s not like that. It’s much more… hairy. It feels soft and cuddly. And it walks funnily, on more than two legs. And then it has something funny attached to its back. It whirls it around when dad comes home. Once I pinched its nose: black, wet, and cold.

Mum and dad talk to it in a funny voice, a kind voice. A little similar to how they talk to me.

We take it outside. It could run there, but it hardly leaves my side. As if it cares for me, too. For my safety, my comfort. Even though it cannot hold me or feed me or change my diapers. It just keeps me company, so I don’t feel alone. It looks out for strangers, so they don’t come to close.

I like it. The hairy being. Though getting its hair stuck on my lips or my tongue is very unpleasant. But the big brown eyes look at me trustworthy, kindly. As if it likes me, too. I tried to get a grip of these pointy things on its head. I really would like to know how they taste, how they feel in my mouth. But the being yelped and mum gently loosened my grip off the pointy things. “No, no.”, she explained to me in a gentle voice. “We shall not pinch Isa’s ears.”

So these pointy things are ‘ears’! And the hairy thing is an ‘Isa’. I see…

An Isa

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