In mid-September I returned to the animal shelter. I even located my water bottle Mom forgot just sitting empty on a box in the cat section. I had to figure out how to use a QR code scanner with my phone just to put myself on an hour waiting list. I even had time to find a toilet to vomit. I think that was the start of my flu. I’d seen many cats and kittens. I was even scolded like a child not to put my fingers in the cages. I can read the damn signs, my fingers were not in strange cat cages! Every cat on my list I was denied even visiting because they had medical issues. Though one sign said insulin was $80 a year, this woman didn’t let me even see the cute tiny-cried cat because it’d be too expensive. One senior cat was losing weight too quickly, every cat with respiratory illness or ringworm was off limits. They’d let me see very few. One named Agatha Christie, 5 years old, was very friendly, purring and knudgey. She was so skinny though. I looked at 2 tabby kittens. At first coming to the glass, now really hesitant to my touch but I thought they’d be young enough to adjust…. all other kittens were off limits. I hadn’t seen a tiny kitten since my last kittens were born. I was 16.
Agatha housed with a young cat named Mary Shelly whom she didn’t come in with but was friendly. I didn’t pick her because I overheard the man in the waiting line behind me ask about her. Though the woman stated I was first in line and didn’t need to let him have it, I didn’t want to be mean.
So I got Agatha and the 3 month old kittens.
So I had many cats growing up, 3 generations all related. Occasionally a new outsider would arrive, but I never had cats need to adjust to me because I’d been around them their entire lives. So this adjustment is strange to me. My first adopted cat adjusted rather quickly, he was also a settled senior. My second 4 month old kitten last year adjusted fairly quickly to our house, with the rabbit not so much as the rabbit was very aggressive. They tolerate each other and I don’t have to worry about murder of one against the other like last year.
I wanted a full cat house. I wanted a cat family, to have several cats felt “right” to me but I was accustomed to this. Adoption. Adjustment. There was no dog for me. All too big or not good with pets. The lady stated Agatha was friendly enough to adjust to the rabbit and the kittens were young enough to learn. It sounds optimistic doesn’t it?
Much has overwhelmed me in the last few weeks. My favorite show ended. Brooklyn Nine Nine got me through the rough period of the last five years. I was battling flu-like symptoms and sitting there with hot and cold flashes, a heavy head, lethargy, and aching body as tears stream down my face as I can’t even process in my mind that it’s ending. I went to sleep after scrawling my thoughts into my journal.
The owner of our house decided to sell. We’d never met her. She was so old she got as far as our living room. She saw Bella in her cage. Our landlord just texted Mom days before that a realtor wanted to see the inside of our house. So just a few days after intensely cleaning for pest control, where we’d gotten it the best we can without enough furniture or space.
Mom took it as a sign. She’s been looking at houses since 2019. In Arizona, housing prices have increased, people are selling and apparently our crappy house will get a place on the market as well. Our nice neighbors moved out over the summer and for weeks while I watched the new doves lay eggs and gathered caterpillars, entitled people in fancy cars kept looking at the house. Our neighborhood is pretty integrated, mostly white people, but there are Mexicans and Mom and I are the only Indians. Africans used to live down the block, but they moved. But every person gave me a bad feeling even just watching them walk into the driveway.
My caterpillars cocoons but I lost a few. Having a larvae crawl on your hand, then cocoon, waiting for them to emerge, it was a strange feeling. The first moth, I keep looking at them and asking if they retained any memories as caterpillars. Did they remember me? I released one by one after enjoying brief encounters with them. They needed to explore, pollinate and mate. Such a brief time they possess. I became quite emotional with the final release. Making sure he were past the spider webs and had a clear path to fly. The last one struggled with flight and I held him overnight presuming he’d get stronger. I heard him buzzing that night. The next morning, I watched him fly off My finger into the distance. Then I felt…off. my last month had been spent monitoring those caterpillars and now all that remained of the moths were their empty cocoons.
So all that, all small, but they were all my own very valid emotions. Everything occurred in one month along with my usual chronic back pain though my migraines were minor so that was a blessing for me. Maybe they all weren’t huge events, but they added up. I’ve been evicted before and that literally traumatized me, losing nearly every belonging, having nowhere to go with no one to help, it took years to rebuild my life emotionally and physically. It greatly affected me. This isn’t quite the same but it’s activating painful memories.
I’ve been told by therapists to write of my memories and appreciate them over physical lost items. But try remembering your dead relatives face without the family photo album and so many things after nine months of seizures. Many of my things trigger good and bad memories even if only vaguely. When I try to explain, so many people just dismissed me as a hoarder failing to understand what it’s like losing items passed down from generations or souvenirs from countries decades ago. And what about your actual memories? You can rewatch movies and reread books but you can’t relive your own memories.
I don’t even know my cats’ pasts. The kittens boy: Cayuga, and girl: Pekin have chopped tips off their ears. Agatha was listed as coming in 12 other cats. All I know about Sookie is she came from a shelter in Nogales before being saved by the cat rescue with a respiratory infection then kept by a foster. Bella my rabbit was born to a lady with a lot of bunnies and a small dog who loved them.
I keep examining Agatha’s background with all those cats. Because of my past with many cats, I relive my life and wonder if I was animal hoarder. My cats were healthy, active, had a home and family. They weren’t neglected or denied basic care as is defined repeatedly in every article I read. Some people just have a lot of pets. I revisited it much since adopting more. Mom couldn’t afford to fix them. They all came from two kittens. Two kittens who walked into my yard one day. Think what you will. There weren’t corpses inhabiting the house and I remembered all their names (Mom didn’t, which she only recently admitted).
So in the present, I’ve been struggling with the new cats. So have Sookie and Bella. I’ve had a few days of adoption regret I’ll confess. And by the time they adjust enough, we’ll be moving. I moved to Tucson from Yuma 300 miles with three cats and one dog all crammed into a truck cab all to be homeless and forced to live in a hotel when we arrived (that’s Another story). Animals mean a lot to me and they’ll never be like my other pets, but I hope to know them better…
Blood and Tears 