Nemo's adopters have given up and want me to come get him.
I never thought it would work out. He is not the type to want to be an only cat. They tried hard.
The good thing is, Willow will be leaving Monday. She was going today, but Keni is too busy. The good thing is the people who had Nemo have a friend who might take the two apartment cats as barn cats. She's going to ask next time she talks to her, which might not be til next week, but I am crossing my fingers.
Nemo's people are really wonderful and they tried hard. He's just terribly depressed and unhappy as an only cat, grieving for his friends and life here. "They're too happy here, is their problem," I told the woman, and she laughed and said she knows that. They miss their friends, their routine, their clicks, sleeping in a pile on top of me.
I know cats love me. Everywhere I go they follow me around, for some reason. It's kind of a problem. Even feral cats let me handle them like they're tame. If I didn't know better, I'd think I had some former life involving being a cat or a cat czar or something. I have cat charisma I guess.
In a nonhuman world, I'd probably be just fine with that. This human world is tough though, on the likes of me, all the judgements and expectations to conform to a certain little teeny space of behavior.
However, I've never really been an accepted part of this human world. Human behavior is nasty. I've felt the brunt of that behavior from the time I was a child.
I guess it's ok to be a cat lady, if that's what the conformist march in the line humans want to call me.
To the cats, I'm just the warm body, the bringer of food, the petter, the healer, the kind eyes in front of the caring soul--the one they can turn to.
I'll live with that. It's my fate.
6 comments:
You write, "To the cats, I'm JUST the warm body, the bringer of food, the petter, the healer, the kind eyes in front of the caring soul--the one they can turn to."
In other words, you love them, and they know it, and at least some of them surely love you back. To love and be loved -- that's not a fate to be resigned to. It is the highest goal to which we can aspire. Congratulations.
Don't say "just." It's a put-down, and can be the dirtiest 4-letter word of them all.
Jane says to tell you she thinks sleeping under a pile of cats is one of life's finest pleasures.
Sleeping under purring cats is indeed one of life's great pleasures. Jane is right.
I suppose you tried to get them to take one or two of Nemo's little kitty friends along with him? The more, the merrier.
Yes, but they only wanted one cat. I knew it wouldn't work out in the end. I considered it "foster care".
There are much worse fates than being the cat lady.
Absolutely, Ashleigh, there are many worse fates.
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