Cats. Life. Me.
So. The whole cats being outdoors thing is a tough thing to grasp for most people. Trust me. It's not easy for me. BUT. I stand by my belief that animals are meant to live. To be outdoors and indoors. That they are meant to have lives. That having anything live for you is not right. And perhaps that is why men leave me. I don't show possession. Or at least not at the right times. Still.
I spent a lot of time on a farm when I was growing up. On a farm, it's natural. Animals are outside. NEVER inside. Cats included. (And no, I don't eat pigs or cattle... just birds and fish. They weren't on the farm). I suffer for it sometimes. Them...? I don't think so. When I'm sitting home and miserable, am I so happy? No. When I go out and act like I think I'm a rock star and it's a fiasco--- am I mad at myself when things go wrong? No. Because that's the price you pay for being a rock star. So there. That's just it. Living means shit happens. I accept that.
That does not mean that I want anything to happen to my animals. EVER. Make no mistake about it. I AM DEVASTATED. I f#*% hate it. BUT. I love it when I walk down the street and every single person who has a dog knows my cat Will and thinks he's the best thing ever and is sad that he's missing. Although, I admittedly think it's just bizarre. I have spent the last week fielding calls from his fan club. A cat that is that cool? Can you imagine? I couldn't. It's just... bizarre. But so Will. He's special. Special things are rare.
I met a woman during all of this who rescues animals. She told me that she thinks Will is unusual. That she thinks some animals should be in and other should be out. It just depends. Will? He should be out, she said. He. Is. My. Love. He used to burrow into me at night. In between my chin and my neck. I loved it. It was sweet. And trusting. Will is simply a cat who is not a cat. Not to say that being a cat is bad. Little Skunk is coming into her own being on her own. And she's pretty entertaining. She's stopped flirting and started being her own cat. Which works for her. Just like people. We rise or shrink in proportion to what surrounds us.
The life and me part? Well. I wish I never had to leave town/LA on the way to what I want my life to be. That my life could be what i want it to be here. In the meantime. Moving sucks. So does failing. And so does realizing that all the shit I wished for and planned for and worked for hasn't paid off. But it's my life. And there's just me.
I spent a lot of time on a farm when I was growing up. On a farm, it's natural. Animals are outside. NEVER inside. Cats included. (And no, I don't eat pigs or cattle... just birds and fish. They weren't on the farm). I suffer for it sometimes. Them...? I don't think so. When I'm sitting home and miserable, am I so happy? No. When I go out and act like I think I'm a rock star and it's a fiasco--- am I mad at myself when things go wrong? No. Because that's the price you pay for being a rock star. So there. That's just it. Living means shit happens. I accept that.
That does not mean that I want anything to happen to my animals. EVER. Make no mistake about it. I AM DEVASTATED. I f#*% hate it. BUT. I love it when I walk down the street and every single person who has a dog knows my cat Will and thinks he's the best thing ever and is sad that he's missing. Although, I admittedly think it's just bizarre. I have spent the last week fielding calls from his fan club. A cat that is that cool? Can you imagine? I couldn't. It's just... bizarre. But so Will. He's special. Special things are rare.
I met a woman during all of this who rescues animals. She told me that she thinks Will is unusual. That she thinks some animals should be in and other should be out. It just depends. Will? He should be out, she said. He. Is. My. Love. He used to burrow into me at night. In between my chin and my neck. I loved it. It was sweet. And trusting. Will is simply a cat who is not a cat. Not to say that being a cat is bad. Little Skunk is coming into her own being on her own. And she's pretty entertaining. She's stopped flirting and started being her own cat. Which works for her. Just like people. We rise or shrink in proportion to what surrounds us.
The life and me part? Well. I wish I never had to leave town/LA on the way to what I want my life to be. That my life could be what i want it to be here. In the meantime. Moving sucks. So does failing. And so does realizing that all the shit I wished for and planned for and worked for hasn't paid off. But it's my life. And there's just me.
posted by jodypwrites | 5:26 PM
1 Comments:
Unfortunately cats have too many predators in a city life, the most serious of which is cars. Protect Skunk and keep her inside in your new place, or you could be facing the same heartbreak again.
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