Sunday, February 16, 2014

Saying Goodbye

I know I normally post about my rabbits, both the good and the bad, but today, I received some pretty upsetting news.

Before I get to that though, I think some backstory is in order.

You see, like every other teenager on the planet, the human known as me at 18 was a fucking nightmare to deal with. I wasn't nearly as bad as some of the horror stories I'm sure you've heard about other teens, but I was no angel either. I had good friends, a job, an close knit family, and an attitude that would make you wonder how my mother didn't chain me in a dungeon.

I got in a pretty bad relationship my Senior year in High School, with a guy who I thought was my Prince riding in on a white horse to save me.

I was wrong.

He hit me, he slapped me, he pushed me around, he forced me into things, and made me feel like the lowest of the low when he was around, or when I did something he didn't like. It was emotional and physical abuse, and once my parents found out about just how bad things had gotten, they shipped me off to Kansas to live with my SUPER conservative Christian Aunt.

I love my aunt,I really do...but at that point in my life, I hated pretty much everyone. Well, my aunt never married or had kids, but she always had cats. As far back as I can remember, she's always had a pair of them. For the extent my "trial 1 month stay" at her home, she had a spazzy calico named Callie, and a talkative tabby named Katie.

You should know by now, just how much I love animals. I tried desperately to form a connection with these cats, but both simply snubbed their noses at me. For the first week, I was subjected to a drastic change in my diet (I was put on vitamins and all that super fun supplement junk...ick), a change in my wardrobe, all my dearly cherished items were riffled through, and all my music and books were put away as well. It was hell, pure and simple.

I felt alone, I felt like an outsider, and I was seething.

And then, one afternoon in my second week there, I was sitting on my bed writing, and the next thing I knew, there was a massive ball of grey fluff on the bed with me. Katie sniffed my hand, looked at me a couple times, then plopped on my lap for the remainder of the evening. After that she was a constant follower, and a happy friend. I still don't know what exactly happened, but before I knew it, I was getting a job in Kansas, choosing to stay there, I realized just how much abuse I had suffered at the hand of my ex, I was singing and drawing and painting again, I was focusing on my photography and writing, my head sorted itself all out, and I was pretty content.

I learned to live again. All because a fat cat decided that I was an ok human being.

And then, today, I learned that the fat cat who was so crucial to my mental healing passed away from kidney failure. She was 12 years old, and quite the chirpy thing when she got to talking. Her favorite place was a lap, or cuddled next to one on the couch. She had beautiful green eyes, and dainty black paws. She was never in a bad mood...and she was the one thing I needed most when I felt the world was falling apart around me.

Thank you Katie. I love you, and I hope we get to meet again at the rainbow bridge one day...

Love and Lightning Bugs,

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