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cybermuleMy cat Ziggy is gazing mournfully at me from her perch on the pillow. I've not given her enough of the right kid of food today, and have betrayed her deeply with this omission.
She's a rescue cat from the first lockdown back in 2020. My ex's idea really to be honest - he likes to acquire cats as part of his life / relationship escalator script. She doted on him until he stopped doting on her (two weeks, maybe?) and then switched allegiance to the one who fed her and gave her attention, as most mammals are wont to do.
She's wriggled into our hearts in the 2 years of being here. The past 6 months she's bonded with my daughter too, which is lovely. She's brought us offerings when I've forgotten to feed her. She thinks she's one of the pack - B and I were sharing takeout pizza last night. Again, Ziggy was feeling hungry. And as we were watching TV and scoffing out of the box, she did her warbling hunting crygrowl at us. She wanted to share in the kill. I think she felt left out, so we gave her a couple of pizza morsels and she settled down with us and purred.
One of the pack.
She's better now. She had a tooth extraction right at the beginning of the month. It's all healed up, but the vet is a bit smitten with her and wants a final check up, which is nice as cat tooth extractions are hella expensive. I'm still waiting for the insurance to pay out, which shows how little I can survive on in a month but it is so goddam dull being that broke. I'm tired of all the little cost of living articles telling people how to chisel pennies here an there at the expense of all their joy.
I remember those days, and hated them.
The kitty tooth extraction was stressful. I thought it was just usual cat-mom stress, but when I dropped her off I went back to my car and howled with tears. I didn't see that coming. I remember doing similar when B went off to school the first time. Like something had been pulled out of me. And again when she transferred to the special needs school.
And then I remembered that the last time I dropped my cat off at the vet, she never came home.
My first cat, Amelia, was an amazing kitty. I got her at university, initially so I didn't have to visit my parents any more, but she ended up giving me two decades of love and companionship. Many house moves, two relationship deaths, all my parents and grandparents dying. A run in with a vehicle. And a new baby as competition. She was good with B, but I also think it suited the last few years of her life to sit and snooze and play second fiddle. And then she had a stroke or something - fell and fitted on the floor. So I took her into the vets and she never came home. I went for one last visit and watched her stumbling blindly around the pen, and then I held her as they put her to sleep.
I felt like I'd somehow neglected or betrayed her. My life had been truly awful for a few years, and I barely did more than feed her and give her the odd stroke. Like I said, that probably suited her. But all those two decades just dropped on my head with no real time and ability to grieve my little tortie sidekick.
So it all came pouring out in the vet's carpark. And it still leaks out really. I'm over half way through my life and so much of it... it's not been wasted, it's just been carved up and stifled by other people's shit.
And I have to try and make sense of that, or at least settle it. So I can make the most of the rest.
She's a rescue cat from the first lockdown back in 2020. My ex's idea really to be honest - he likes to acquire cats as part of his life / relationship escalator script. She doted on him until he stopped doting on her (two weeks, maybe?) and then switched allegiance to the one who fed her and gave her attention, as most mammals are wont to do.
She's wriggled into our hearts in the 2 years of being here. The past 6 months she's bonded with my daughter too, which is lovely. She's brought us offerings when I've forgotten to feed her. She thinks she's one of the pack - B and I were sharing takeout pizza last night. Again, Ziggy was feeling hungry. And as we were watching TV and scoffing out of the box, she did her warbling hunting crygrowl at us. She wanted to share in the kill. I think she felt left out, so we gave her a couple of pizza morsels and she settled down with us and purred.
One of the pack.
She's better now. She had a tooth extraction right at the beginning of the month. It's all healed up, but the vet is a bit smitten with her and wants a final check up, which is nice as cat tooth extractions are hella expensive. I'm still waiting for the insurance to pay out, which shows how little I can survive on in a month but it is so goddam dull being that broke. I'm tired of all the little cost of living articles telling people how to chisel pennies here an there at the expense of all their joy.
I remember those days, and hated them.
The kitty tooth extraction was stressful. I thought it was just usual cat-mom stress, but when I dropped her off I went back to my car and howled with tears. I didn't see that coming. I remember doing similar when B went off to school the first time. Like something had been pulled out of me. And again when she transferred to the special needs school.
And then I remembered that the last time I dropped my cat off at the vet, she never came home.
My first cat, Amelia, was an amazing kitty. I got her at university, initially so I didn't have to visit my parents any more, but she ended up giving me two decades of love and companionship. Many house moves, two relationship deaths, all my parents and grandparents dying. A run in with a vehicle. And a new baby as competition. She was good with B, but I also think it suited the last few years of her life to sit and snooze and play second fiddle. And then she had a stroke or something - fell and fitted on the floor. So I took her into the vets and she never came home. I went for one last visit and watched her stumbling blindly around the pen, and then I held her as they put her to sleep.
I felt like I'd somehow neglected or betrayed her. My life had been truly awful for a few years, and I barely did more than feed her and give her the odd stroke. Like I said, that probably suited her. But all those two decades just dropped on my head with no real time and ability to grieve my little tortie sidekick.
So it all came pouring out in the vet's carpark. And it still leaks out really. I'm over half way through my life and so much of it... it's not been wasted, it's just been carved up and stifled by other people's shit.
And I have to try and make sense of that, or at least settle it. So I can make the most of the rest.
no subject
Date: 2022-10-31 01:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-11-06 01:52 am (UTC)She does have to have more work done on the bloody tooth though. Argh. It's not urgent or dramatic so I'll try and process the catmom stress a bit more rationally this time.
That's kind of the best lemonade I can squeeze out of those lemons.