This morning, Tiger HRFL, and I met for the last time. As I live three kilometers from him and he doesn't drive, we arranged to meet at his house. So that we could openly display our deep affection for each other, we picked a time when we knew Helen would not be at home.

Tiger was waiting for me at the foot of the stairs. I knelt down as he rushed towards me and our eyes met. Tiger rolled onto his side and stretched out a paw to touch my knee. In return, I stroked his head. Tiger rolled on his back and gently kicked the air with his hind paws. I stroked his side. Tiger then curled his sensuous body and invited me to stroke his tummy. When I did so, he promptly started biting and kicking my hand, not viciously but with controlled passion.

After such intimacy, Tiger was hungry and strolled into the kitchen to find something to eat. Unfortunately, his bowl was empty. Uncertain whether or not Helen would approve of my feeding her boy, I thought it best not to do so. When Tiger continued to rasp the bottom of his empty dish, I realised just how much my decision displeased him. With sweet words and offers of games and more fuss, I tried to persuade him to think of me instead of food but all in vain.

Seeking solace, I went in search of Tiger's close companion, Sir Robertson (Robbie) and found him curled up on the bed, not sleeping but resting. He looked so peaceful that I thought it was not the time to tell him how hurt I felt about being snubbed by my Tiger. Instead, I spoke about his long journey to Belize, explained what a wonderful life he would have there and told him how much I would miss him. Robbie listened intently. I was just telling him how well suited Belize's warm climate would be to him, when Tiger came storming up the stairs and dramatically entered the bedroom. It was clear from his expression, that I should not be there, and certainly not talking to Robbie. So pleased was I that Tiger was once again paying me attention, that I willingly followed him immediately downstairs where, once again, he turned on the charm.

He chased his ball, killed his toy mouse, investigated my shopping bag and camera case and finally wandered across for more caressing. Unfortunately at this point, Helen came home and Tiger immediately appeared to forget me. Helen fondly thinks that he loves only her. In reality, Tiger and I have had an affair for more than a year. But we won't tell Helen for fear either of hurting her feelings or, more probably, not being believed.

I will miss Tiger. Here's hoping he will have a wonderful life in Belize and won't forget me.

Copyright © Sheenah Large
May 15, 2002