I remember when he called me Kitten. His protective hand stroking down my spine. His touch was what I crave for more than the milk he places in the bowl. A treat for his pet, he leaves me purring and content. Set on a pillow in the corner, I watch as he brings in the newest toy to train. His hand leaves marks upon her flesh. I miss when his dissatisfaction was mine to wear with pride. Each whimper from her slowly becoming a purr, I know soon there will be another collar bought for his newest pet.