Confinement

All the measures attempted to keep us quiet outside have failed. A machine under the roof emitted a sharp, stirring noise, anytime my mother started speaking loudly and menacing the birds. She considered it just another bird song and kept shouting at them. Next, they vested us with collars sensitive to voice. Anything more than whispers, produced a similar noise. They called them "barking control devices". Whatever their function, they turned up useless.
Inside the house and alone we survived only a week before the destruction of the sofa. It was unclear to me why Jack was so upset, running after us, trying to catch us under the beds, belt in hand. Then, I figured that nobody could seat in front of the TV, thanks to my actions.
There were consults with the experts over the phone, conducted in whispers, glancing at us, the guilty part, with disappointment and despair. Two horrible cages were brought into the house. When displayed, they occupied the whole width of the living room, spacious enough to "provide us with humane living quarters and safe confinement until we could figure out why we were there"
Every morning, before leaving the house, Jack and Elena put my bed into the cage, along with food, water and toys and left me locked until the afternoon. Being so young I didn't care much, as long as my toys were available. My mother, on the other hand, was deeply affected. She entered the crate against her will and howled and cried until she was sure they couldn't hear us anymore. She refused to eat before she was freed and was in short, miserable.
My memories of those days are blurry. I've been always prone to dreams. A secure place of my own, separated from others and everything, gave me the perfect chance. There was something in me I could only glance in darkness and it had no name. It was the seed of the wolf. It was waiting in silence to become what I was planned to be. Chewing on a piece of rope I could imagine the thrill of being far away, hunting and mating, roaming the hills and wading the creeks. I would come back in the morning with thorns in the back and blood in the mouth, jumping with joy, shivering under the crisp air of winter. But it was also possible that such a part of my soul could never be free. Even If we managed to get out of the cage, our spirits would be forever restrained, contained behind the invisible bars of societal rule. I got this at last but I didn't cry. As everybody else, I found a cozy place to rest and kept playing with my toys until I fell asleep. The next day, they let me out.