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Writer's pictureLord Fernandez

Come Clean



Today, I came clean, at the Groomers.


The Groomers is the abyss filled with horror and pain.


The imp employed for my torture was waiting. He started by shooting a stream of water at my chest. I shivered from the cold. My body was wet and my fur clung to my skin. He then rubbed soap all over me. My eyes burned as the soap got into my eyes. I cried from the sting.


For a moment, I caught a glimpse of you watching from behind the glass window that separated us. I

squealed to ask for your help. No reaction. I think you did not even see me. Your mind seemed to be miles away. I saw tears in your eyes. You were crying from pain it seems like. I wondered what the cause of your pain was.

My attention then turned to my own pain as my tormentor blasted me again with water. I plotted to get away from him but lost all hope of escape when I realized that I was chained to the table. I surrendered to the torture. I stopped struggling. I decided to be still.


In this stillness, I noticed, that there was something missing. I remembered that I scratched so hard last night and this morning that I ended up with wounds from digging my claws into my skin over and over again. The compulsion for me to scratch was gone. Could it be that the water and soap healed me from the itch? Could it be that my so called tormentor was actually my healer?


The groomer brought out another contraption that blew air that swept through my body. I no longer felt pain and discomfort. In fact, the air felt like a gentle touch that is not unlike your touch when you pet me. I actually enjoyed that moment being bathed with air. I then heard a voice, “Do you feel better?” I felt a peaceful embrace. I realized it was you. You were hugging me and kissing me.


“It’s time to come home.”


And just like that, my ordeal was done. I looked at my paws, and smelled myself, and I realized I was still my old self, after going through that suffering. I was myself but better. I was cleansed from the furies that drove me to scratch myself till I bled.


You picked me up from the groomer’s table and I looked at your face, I noticed that you still had tears in your eyes.


I may not be wise but maybe you can listen to someone who journeyed through the abyss at the groomers and found healing in the end. Whatever you are going through, should you follow my lead and come clean? Go through your own abyss Like me, you will get out of there, and I’ll be waiting for you when you come out to tell you, “It’s time to come home.”

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