Hello Readers!

This is the first blog post for the new site. Here’s to hoping it turns out right! Technology has been winning more of the battles the last couple months. 🙂

I would like to share with you a short story I wrote back in college. It was recently accepted as an entry into a book of short stories.

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A Thief joined my life on July 4, 1994. To this day the Thief has a powerful hold over a great part of my life. What did he steal? He has one of my most prized possessions—my heart.

Who is the Thief, you ask? The Thief has beautiful sea-green eyes with a darker emerald green surrounding the pupil. His hair is somewhat reddish with brown thrown in for a dramatic effect. Compared to his contemporaries, his eyes are a bit close set, his ears slightly larger than most, but that does not detract from his beauty. There is an adorable freckle on his long, broad nose. His voice can be strident when he chooses—especially when he demands immediate action from the staff in his household.

He is a Thief with power. More power than any onlooker could imagine. Even some of the people who reside with us are befuddled with his power over me. Mostly, he has an invisible control over my thoughts and my actions. I consider his needs and wants before I make plans to leave the house for any period of time. One word from him will stop me in my tracks so I can give him my full attention. If anyone other than myself dares to touch him, he lets it be known quite loudly. How dare anyone touch him without his prior consent?

In his youth, there came a time when he had to have knee surgery. His scream of pain still echoes in my mind. I was in the kitchen when I heard the most heart-wrenching cry of my life. My Thief! He had fallen from a great height and tore the ligament around his knee, which resulted in the ball of his knee continuously slipping out of the patella, where it should have rested naturally.

After many fretful visits to the doctors, it was determined he had a three month window for optimum results. Otherwise, he would walk with a limp the rest of his life. I found a short-term job to earn the money. After two months, I packed our bags and off we went. It was a two-hour drive to the closest specialist; Bakersfield, CA. After delivering him to the doctor, I checked myself into the motel room…and waited. When he was ready to leave the next day, I wasn’t sure I could drive home; I wanted only to hold him and protect him and tell him he would never feel pain again.

This relationship has been a powerful lesson of learning to split my attention…I have a family and a job, and he has my heart. But what am I to do? He offers me his love as long as he gets the attention he deems his due. My training in nighttime snacking has come along quite well. When he desires a treat in the middle of the night, I can do it in sleep mode now.

He listens when I need it most. He lets me treat him as the baby I no longer can have. Two teenage boys just can’t appreciate sitting on their mom’s lap. He doesn’t care if I talk baby talk, so long as he is getting my attention. He never says a harsh word. He has never criticized my looks. He has never struck me out of anger. He does not withhold his affection in spitefulness. For this, he has my heart.

When he is wanting my undivided attention, he has a favorite way of letting me know. He will raid his stash of goodies to bring me a present, one of his own prized possessions. This may not sound like the action of a Thief, but it accomplishes his goals. He tweaks the strings around my heart…and I can’t resist.

While most people observing us would think our communication is one-sided, they would be wrong. Not all relationships have to be understood by the viewer. While I do not know sign language, I would never presume a conversation between two users of that language is one-sided. I compare that viewed conversation to an object of art—I may not be able to understand the viewpoint of the artist, but it can still be beautiful.

Each relationship a person has is unique in many ways. The relationship with my Thief is unique in almost every way. How fortunate for me that my husband, children and friends accept this relationship. Otherwise I would find myself quite alone outside of my relationship with this crafty Thief. After all, he has my heart.

He left me once, temporarily, and I thought I was crushed. The dark despair was almost tangible. My chest pounded with panic, I couldn’t catch my breath, and my thoughts came to a screeching halt. Now what do I do? I need my Thief. The pain of not knowing his whereabouts and well-being was excruciating. I remember the feel of the asphalt as I collapsed in the middle of the road with tears rolling down my cheeks. I remember the joy when I saw his face across the road, asking me to come get him; he wasn’t sure how to get back home. He needed me!

So, what is the name of this masterful Thief? His name is as regal as his personality. His lineage, after all, goes back to the wilderness. His Sire is Lionsmountain Lee O of Leopardtown, his Dam is Echowood Anneey of Leopardtown, and he, himself, is none other than Leopardtown Cherokee. Of course, he does not flaunt his royal heritage, even though his is 20% Asian Leopard Cat. He will answer to “Cherokee,” or “Boo Boo,” or “Your Majesty.”

He is a Thief, but he is my Thief. And yet, how can he steal that which I would so willingly given up to him? I need him…and he needs me.

In memory of my love…1994-2010

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Until next time…be kind to each other…and to yourself!

3 thoughts on ““The Thief” – a short story

  1. You’ve left no doubt – nor should you – about your fealty to His Majesty.

    Ava: You may have written this in Marko’s tale or somewhere else; I read it recently but don’t remember where and I apologize if it was you. I’d never heard it put this way. In describing a pregnant woman, the author wrote that “she carried him under her heart.” That is so evocative.

    While biologically impossible, it is for sure that you carried Boo Boo within your heart and he still dwells within.


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