WomensStuff

TL:DR: Support your local animal shelters.

There are so many things that made me colder, so I'll focus on soft.

Soft like my cat.

I got a void at the start of covid when the local shelter put out a mayday for animal adoption, since no one knew how things were going to play out. I picked her from the website without knowing much about her, personality wise.

Except that she was at the shelter longer than any other cat, and they called her "Sassy"— shelter-speak for "a personality disorder with fangs and claws."

First vet visit: She needed 2K+ worth of tests and treatments. It wasn't out of my wheelhouse, but it was the worst time right after the costs of getting a cat.

But I've had a lot of pets, and it sounded like a food allergy.

What's in most pet foods? Chicken. What's one of the most prevalent allergies in cats? Chicken.

The vet gave me the OK to try an exclusion diet.

After a month, her fur was thicker, her stomach wasn't swollen, and she was still a huge bitch.

So I got a clicker for some enrichment time. You can't be an asshole to someone who stimulates your brain and spends time with you and gives you treats, right? Wrong. But she learned some tricks because she's smart and evil.

I seriously considered giving her back. It was bad. I had scars. I paid a vet bill for another cat when she escaped (the cat was fine.)

But there's this other thing— I was a giant asshole growing up. My home life was shit and I had a lot of undiagnosed problems. I thought of this cat in constant pain, in a shelter, for more than a year. Instead of giving up, I gave her positive reinforcement, I built a giant catio, taught her to walk on a leash, and set consistent rules and expectations. We ate at the same time, on a schedule, because I read it helps build bonds. Even had our morning shit at the same time, which I didn't expect, it just kinda happened. Honestly? Kinda nice to have a poop buddy.

After a year she was still more of a bad roommate than a pet, but better. Every year's seen improvement, since.

She has moments, but I know how to deal it. Problems like that don't go away, because mine never did, not entirely. It doesn't mean I should give up trying, year after year. She even puts herself in time-out now when she gets over-stimulated. And almost made a cat friend, but I think they had a disagreement because she chased him out of the yard the other day. Doesn't matter.

Point of this long-ass post is: stubbornly trying to fix this jackass of a cat helped me understand and forgive myself. Still love her.