Fall, 1948

“One day they decided to sell the family cow.”

My family was going through some financial crisis because we were a lot of people in the family. So fun fact: my family was made of eleven people, mom, dad and us: the nine cheerful sisters that lived in Montenegro near the Albanian borders. Muja was the one pet that we loved, but unfortunately and sadly, they sent her away.

My last days with Muja went in a blink of an eye and that dreaded day, where the lovely Mu had to leave, was there. The shady, unwelcomed farmer, who would buy the cow, came to our front door and loudly knocked three times. I started begging:

“Please don’t take her away from me,” I said while tears ran down my face.

 “He will take her in a better place where her friends are waiting for her,” explained dad trying to calm me down.

          “But why? She was happy with us here! She doesn’t need any other friends, she has me…” I argued and continued crying silently.

There was nothing I could do to save Muja from the evil hands of the monstrous man who was taking her with him. There was nothing I, as a little imbecile child, could do to get my friend back and all I wanted was to be near her the entire time, so I decided to go with Muja, and followed them to an unknown road.

The thing was that I didn’t even noticed that we had walked for hours and hours but just continued to follow my friend even though I could barely stand. After all, I was just a child and was used of playing the whole day, so this piercing pain that was torturing my feet, was just as normal as any other day.

The sun was setting when the farmer, who had taken the cow, notices something moving from behind. A layer of a horrifying and in the same time astonished look covered his face when he saw me walking right behind the cow and hiding as all this was a game. Without waiting any longer, he immediately bombarded poor me with a thousand questions.

          “W-why, are you here? H-how did you come? W-wait, do your parents know?” he said, barely putting two words in a sentence.

          “I am taking my buddy to her new home,” the innocent me stated.

          “Don’t you know that you are really far from your home?” added the poor farmer who now was pale in the face.

          “No, my house is right there in…” I confusedly turn around and look at the deserted hills behind me.

I froze. The farmer instantly came to his senses and understood my childish and foolish mistake. He calmly touches me in the shoulder and offers me to stay a night in their house. I don’t make a sound but slowly nod my head still facing the empty fields and hills.

The next morning, I gave my last goodbyes to Muja and with tears in my eyes, me and the old farmer start the long and exhausting road. This time it seemed much longer and tiring.

When we finally arrived at my house, my dad couldn’t believe his eyes. The entire family was shocked because no one had known that I was gone for almost two entire days. They all would look at each other with their eyes opened as if they would pop out of their heads. After a moment of silence and awkward eye contact, they all burst into laughter and they start telling the story how all this happened. Not even a single detail was left out. Even though I grew up and even left the country and went to Albania I never forgot my dear friend and our hilarious stories that we went through together, and of course how devastated I felt when I left Muja behind knowing I would never see her again.