Today is my third anniversary with Spartacus the Cat, who came bursting (well, more like cowering, but he’s come around since then) into my life three years ago when I spontaneously decided to take him off the hands of the lady who was fostering him. She was working at the Idaho Humane Society and took him home because his prospects of survival were not good due to his social anxiety.
It was not love at first sight; when I went to meet him, he of course hid. To be perfectly honest, I was a little put off by his neurosis, and unsure what to make of the fact that he called to mind nothing so much as a furry gargoyle.
I’ve come around since then. Three years later, I can’t imagine my life without him (and Meep, who came around that summer). He’s been an unfailing source of comfort, companionship, and unconditional affection through a stretch of difficult years. Spartacus and Meep changed my life; if it weren’t for them, I’d most likely be writing this from South Korea, where I’d be teaching English.
I won’t pretend I’m not ambivalent about my derailed career plans and impaired ability to vagabond about the globe in the long term while my darlings live out their days; truthfully, sometimes I wonder what the hell I’m thinking. But, at the end of the day, I wouldn’t trade my cat family for the world and I’m grateful for the joy, and yes, I’ll say it, because I am a crazy cat lady, and I don’t care how it sounds—love—they’ve brought into my life.
I love you guys!
No comments:
Post a Comment