𝐃𝐨𝐠𝐬' 𝐓𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡 [UNEDITED]

3|The Disappearance of Mr. Whiskers' Yarn Ball

I knew Mr. Whiskers inside and out, from his every whisker to every meow. His fur, the shade of the darkest night, and his eyes always seemed to twinkle with a mischievous glint. An unmistakably charming and witty kitty he was indeed! For him, there was nothing more thrilling than to see how the strings of his words tugged at your heart. But yet, somewhere in the dimly lit parts in the alleyways of my mind, lingered a mystery that would always seem to elude me, or maybe I was the one eluding it.

As I was walking down the pavement to meet Mr. Whiskers, I saw a certain familiar feline with paws behind his back and a distressed expression plastered on his face. He paced back and forth on the patio, his whiskers twitching, his tail flicking side to side, and his fur matted. Even if his body language indicated something was wrong, the twinkle in his eyes never left. Maybe I was mistaken, but I couldn't help but feel a pang of concern. Unable to just stay there and do nothing, I approached him with gentle steps and asked what was troubling him. He mewed pitifully, "I've lost my precious yarn ball, the one I cherished the most. Could you please help me find it?"

I nodded my head, knowing how much it meant to him. It might seem trivial to another person, but I could tell how much joy it brought him. So, I embarked on a mission to find the lost yarn ball. It didn't matter if I had to cross seven seas or the galaxy to look for it; bringing a smile to his face mattered more. I scoured every corner and crevice that ever existed, turned over big and small pebbles, peered under every pile of garbage. I asked around, questioned every cat in the vicinity, but all was in vain. Yet, my determination never wavered. I searched high and low, following every lead and clue that came to my aid, but something was definitely wrong. The more I tried to shake off the nagging feeling, the stronger it grew. As I retraced my steps back, a twig beneath my foot broke. It was then, when a sparkle of yarn hidden underneath a clump of autumn leaves caught my attention. It wasn't just any ordinary yarn, but Mr. Whiskers' lost yarn ball! I could tell by the texture and color.

Following the trail of torn threads, I eventually found myself standing face to face with Mr. Whiskers. The threads I collected fell to the ground. Maybe I actually never knew Mr. Whiskers as well as I thought. Maybe there were parts of him that remained a mystery to me, tucked away behind those eyes. I confronted him, begged and asked him why he would do this. To my surprise, if that was even surprise, he simply grinned, flashed his sharp white teeth, and playfully batted at the yarn ball. It was clear that he was amused by the whole situation.

In that moment, I realized that Mr. Whiskers was more than just a charming witty kitty. He was someone who knew how to tug and cut the strings of someone's heart mercilessly. I felt sick to my stomach. I had been nothing more than a toy to him, a disposable plaything to be used and discarded at his whim.

The realization ringing in my ears was louder than any meow could ever be. As I made my way to Mr. Whiskers, I couldn't bring myself to stare him right in the eye. I picked up the torn remnants of the yarn ball in silence and handed them to him.

As I turned my back on Mr. Whiskers and walked away, I smiled shakily to myself. Mr. Whiskers may have lost his yarn ball, but I had lost something more precious - my innocence, my trust in others, and the friendship we had. The sun dipping below the horizon bid me goodbye, and the silhouettes of trees and buildings stood stark against the backdrop. The mystery I thought was hiding from me was actually me hiding from it. Though I may not have a knack for mysteries, at last, I figured out one.