My life was very dull; they always fed me a single potato and water. When I tried to communicate something, they would say “how cute!” But I was screaming to get out of there. My days passed in indifference and monotony; I only had my feathers to play with, so I plucked them out one by one, until none were left.
One day, a woman arrived. She looked at me and asked, “What’s her name?” They replied, “Niña.” The woman looked at me in such a special way that I felt a deep connection… That day, everything changed.
They carried me in a box; I didn’t know where we were going, feeling the fresh air filtering through a few holes. During the trip, we arrived at a place that looked like a tree. There, the woman took me out and placed me on the branches. Although I felt strange… I finally felt free!
That day, I tasted something delicious I had never had before: a strawberry, then a banana, and a papaya. That woman had two daughters; one of them came up to me, saying I looked like a little ball, and named me PEPA. I quickly adapted to that family; they loved me so much that my feathers grew back green and bright, and I gained a little weight, as they fed me well and always pampered me. I love listening to music, especially rancheras—how crazy, right?
After those gray and monotonous days, my days were filled with color and joy. I learned many things, among them how to bark, since there was a little dog in the house named Muñeca. My hobby was no longer plucking my feathers, but playing with bottle caps and lots of balls. Every night, one of the woman’s daughters came home from work and said good night to me before bed; I always waited for her.
Almost ten years passed like that, until one day I felt sick: I couldn’t see out of one eye, it hurt a lot, I started to have a fever, and I was in bad shape. They rushed me to the vet; they ran some tests and said my condition was very delicate, so it was best to wait. Back home, my mom and my sisters, as I already called them, gave me food and water, but I didn’t want any; I could see they were very worried, and in their eyes, I could see sadness. I made one last effort and drank a little water, but honestly, it didn’t help much.
The night went on and I felt weaker and weaker, until, with my last breath, I heard them say, “Don’t die!” and I simply stopped breathing. I left that night, February 3rd; I saw them crying over my lifeless body, lying in one of my sisters’ hands. They couldn’t believe that such a small bird had taught them such a different kind of love, only to break their hearts with my departure.
A few minutes later, I didn’t hear their cries anymore; I was in a very dark place, I felt peace, and I was no longer in pain. I understood that my freedom had been with them: those women gave me a life full of joy and far from confinement. For me, that was freedom.
Some time ago, I was given the opportunity to return to Earth. I was certain I would find those women who loved me so much, and guess what? I arrived at the home of one of my sisters. Of course she didn’t recognize me; several years had passed, but I never felt forgotten.
My sister, whose name is Rosa, welcomed me with great love into her home. I couldn’t find a way to tell her that it was me, Pepa, so I started doing the same things I used to do: sleeping on her chest, playing with balls, and always following her around. One day, she recognized me, saying: “You came back!”
In this life, my name is Pelusa; I’m a cat, but I will always be Pepa: that out-of-the-ordinary love that managed to transcend and return to where it was truly free.