Snickers
- Hannah L
- Feb 22
- 3 min read
Snickers the cat, with his furry little head
He was a butthead, that much has been said
A companion to my son, a part of our home
But when things got tough, I had to roam
Moving in with a friend, hoping for some peace
But I found only pain, my mind in release
A mental breakdown, a battle within
Leaving me broken, with nowhere to begin
I left Snickers behind, a decision so hard
But my friend spun a tale, a twisted disregard She told my son I took the cat away
To Michigan, she said, where he’d forever stay
I never made it to Michigan, not with Snickers in tow
But my son doesn’t believe, the lies continue to grow
My own mother, feeding flames of deceit
My son’s last words to me, a painful defeat
“You’re lying,” he said, with texts so cold
A 12-year-old boy, with a shattered mold
He insists I kept Snickers from him in spite
But I’d searched in a tornado, with all my might
I long for the day when the truth will shine through
When my son will see, that I didn’t leave Snickers with you
But until that day comes, I’ll carry this weight
The pain of being misunderstood, a heavy, heavy fate
I've talked before about how we become what we're told we are in our environments. I've been called a liar by my mother as early as 3 or 4 years old, that I can remember. Eventually I became a liar. So, I understand why my son thinks I'm lying about his cat, but I also know that my mother accuses everyone of lying, even him, her grandson. He just doesn't realize it yet.
My son had this cat and his name was Snickers. He was a super naughty kitty. When I was homeless, I found myself at a friends house. Where I took the cat, because my mother wouldn't take him. (Which, if I'm so irresponsible and all of this is really about protecting your grandsons emotional and physical health, why wouldn't you take the cat if you can't trust me?) When I had to leave my friends house, (my doing, and for a much later post- this was a healthy friend that was good to me, so you already know I pushed her away) I had to leave my cat behind because I didn't have anywhere to take him. When I moved back to Michigan, I told this friend I would be back for him. I never came back for him.
I was now living at my mother's childhood friends house. My son was still sort of texting me. The last text I ever received, the last communication ever in over 7 years from my son was, "Stop lying. Where's my cat?" My mother told him I was, "Likely lying. She wants to hurt you," about taking his cat with me. I remember reaching out to this friend that I had burnt so badly already and she responded that she told my son I took the cat because the cat was not there. Well, the first thing I thought of, was that there was a hole in her screen and Snickers likely got out. I did not take the cat. For my son, believing I stole his cat on purpose to hurt him, was his last straw. His breaking point. I never had a chance after that, because my mother would then say, "See, she's crazy and off her meds. You can't trust her. You should stop speaking to her completely." And he did. For now 7 years.
This is a cat that during a tornado warning went missing. My son was still living with me full time at this point. I got in my car and went looking for this little shit, because this cat was my son's safe place from the environment I had created for him. My mother is great at getting people to see what other's have done TO them, and not for them. This is why my world view used to be only negative. I did not take the cat. I do not have Snickers. He never came to Michigan with me. I can only hope that a nice family has taken him in.
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