My Cat Dodger

Last year this month, my cat of 12 years passed away. I still think of her often. I wrote a blog post about her and about grieving her and that really lifted a weight off my shoulders. What I didn’t say in that post was that it was only 2 days after her death when I got another cat. So now, the anniversary of my cat’s death is also almost the same day that I got my new cat, Dodger.

I spoke, in my post last year, about grieving and how I grieve. I had never lost my own cat before and was learning how to deal with that. I wondered, when I brought Dodger in, whether it was a bad coping mechanism on my part. Was I trying to replace Blessing so fast? Was I giving myself enough time to mourn her? Was I being selfish about wanting another cat in my life so quickly?

The reasons I brought Dodger in so quickly after Blessing were valid. She was a stray that we had kind of adopted for the last few years. She had been hanging out at our house more and more. But one day, a few weeks before Blessing passed, she came to the house with a bad eye infection. It was clear she was not doing well at all. She was constantly on our porch, not daring to venture too far away from that safety. It was starting to get cold out and she was losing fur and covered in scabs. It was evident that she was having a very hard time on the streets.

The preparations for her coming in had already begun. I knew that she would be the next indoor cat. To be honest, I had not expected her to be fully mine. My mom was the one who had initially started feeding the outside cats. But I was the one that Dodger liked. So my mom left it up to me to decide if/when she would be brought in. And I chose only a couple days after Blessing was gone.

How could I leave her outside any longer? We were expecting a cold snap and she was fur-less, half blind, and miserable. My own needs/wants had to be put on the back burner. She NEEDED to be cared for and I couldn’t justify waiting for my grief to make that happen. So inside she came. To the vet she went.

She’s an old lady cat, somewhere between 9 and 13 years old. She lost sight in one eye because of the infection. We found out she has a pretty extreme flea allergy, which is why she was losing fur and had scabs all over. Eventually we also learned she has an allergy to plastic as well. She had an attitude too. Mostly, I think, it was a lot of fear. It’s clear she has been a pet before. Whether she was abandoned, lost, or abused, we have no way of knowing. She doesn’t like being around more than a couple people at a time. She can’t handle being boxed in (i.e. can’t put your arms all the way around her because she freaks out). She doesn’t communicate very well. I got a lot of scratches from her that came with zero warning.

A year later and she is a happy, fat, relaxed cat. She still lashes out sometimes but I can read her a lot better and the incidences are few and far between now. She can interact with children pretty well (NEVER without supervision), which was surprising. It’s weird having a cat that my family didn’t raise. With Blessing, I knew all her quirks and, for the most part, how she got them. With Dodger, she does things that take me completely off-guard. She is always surprising me with how she behaves and how much love and affection she shows. I don’t trust her with strangers but every time she’s met someone new she’s been well behaved and sweet.

I don’t regret getting her quickly after Blessing. She helped me in unexpected ways. As I worked through my grief, she was learning how to live in her new environment. As I overcame my sadness, she was overcoming her fear. In our own ways, we grew together and that was invaluable to me.

There’s no knowing how long Dodger will live. She’s had a hard life and is already a senior cat. But for now she is healthy and loved. We jokingly call our house her retirement home. In many ways that is true. God put her here at the right time to get the care she needed. I look forward to as many years with her as she has left.

Like It or Not, You Are Your Pet’s Parent

I do not call myself my cat’s ‘mom’ or ‘furmom’ as some these days identify. I don’t consider my pet a person or anything like that. I did not birth this animal. I did not adopt through a process that would require me to make sure my entire life and home will be tailored specifically to the care of this animal (I don’t know the entire adoption process for children but I’m gonna go out on a limb and say it’s a lot more intensive than getting a cat).

But I am still my cat’s parent.

“What?” You might ask. “How can you say you’re not a pet parent yet say you are a pet parent?”

What does a parent do for their child? They love, feed, teach, admonish, and encourage. They make sure they’re eating properly, they take them to the doctor when they’re sick, they correct negative behavior, and when the child is young or nonverbal, they have to be in tune with every aspect of the child’s life to keep them healthy. Parents have to use tough love sometimes in order to keep their child safe, they have to get good care for the kid when they can’t take care of them for a time. There’s a lot more but I’ll stop there.

What does a pet owner do for their pet? They love, feed, teach, correct, and encourage. They make sure they’re eating properly, they take them to the vet when they’re sick, they have to use tough love sometimes in order to keep them safe. They have to find good care when they can’t take care of them for a time. They have to be in tune with every aspect of the pet’s life to keep them healthy.

See some similarities? The difference being that most children grow up and are able to tell parents what’s going on. My cat can’t tell me how her day was like a teenager can. An animal is voiceless. They cannot tell you where they are hurt, they cannot tell you why they’re acting out, they can’t point out their abuser, they can’t talk out their stress, etc. The only one who can speak for your pet is you. You have to know your pet. You have to understand what their actions mean. You have to tell the vet what’s been going on in their life. You have to make judgments based on what is best for them without knowing if they like those choices or not.

There’s a cheesy quote out there about how your pet may be only one part of your world but you are your pet’s entire world. It’s usually painted over a picture of an adorable puppy or kitten to tug at your heart strings. Despite the emotional ploy to get you to share/like, this quote is true. My cat knows nothing beyond me and my family. She doesn’t have connections outside this house. She can’t choose to leave. She didn’t come here because she wanted to. This is the only world she knows. How can I willingly choose to hurt or abandon her? She can’t call the police on me, she can’t talk to friends about the care she’s receiving. And why would she? I feed her and love her and she seems happy with that. I know she’s happy because I pay attention to her. I spend time with her. Animals have relationships with their owners just as people have relationships with each other.

Committing to care for the life another living creature is a big thing. It’s not something that you should ever choose on a whim. A cat is a 12 to 18 year commitment and a dog is similar depending on the breed. That is literally like having a child. If you’re not ready to take care of an animal for the rest of its life, don’t get one.

If I am no longer able to care for my cat then it is my responsibility to make sure she is still cared for. If I knew I wouldn’t be able to take care of her for more than the next few months and I spent that time deliberating over whether or not to take her to a shelter, she wouldn’t know. I can prepare myself for that day. I can make myself feel better about the decision. I can say goodbye. She can’t. I am her whole world and when I walk into that shelter all she knows is that it’s a new, loud, scary place with people she doesn’t know and strange animal smells everywhere. She would look to me for security and safety in this new place but suddenly I’m not there. (I understand that circumstances change but at the same time I feel like it can be an excuse to drop animals off at shelters. Find a new home yourself, where you can keep in touch with the new owners to make sure the animal is well cared for.)

Do you remember when you were six and lost sight of your parent in the grocery store? Can you recall that moment of total panic while a million horrible scenarios ran through your mind? Multiply that by ten and perhaps you will feel what an animal feels when suddenly the person who was supposed to be there, the ONLY person they have known for most of their life, leaves them with no explanation.

I am not against people finding new homes for pets they can absolutely no longer care for. But I think that people should be more responsible in the first place. An animal is a commitment, not a fling.  It’s a long term relationship. It’s not having a child, but it’s like having a child. You are responsible for that animal. Whether you like it or not, you are that pet’s parent, their only voice in this world. Act like it.