Kira and Annabelle, the only cats I have that came from the same place, are 8 now. MY CAT'S ARE GETTING OLD WHICH DEPRESSES ME. I may have to console myself with a basket of kittens.
It's not a great secret that 2001-2002 was pretty much the worst time in my life. I've had depression (been dealing with depression? Suffered from depression?) since I was 8-9, and received zero treatment until I was 19. That's... too long. 2001 was just a cluster-fuck in regards to my mental health and treatment. By summer of 2002 I had been cycled through 9 or ten different medications, none of which had worked very well for me. I went from a huge manic phase (my freshman year of college I was taking any where from 18-22 credit hours a semester, working several jobs and sleeping maybe 2 hours a night, if at all.) to a major depressive one- the medication made it so I slept...all the time. I barely passed winter semester that year- and was on my third college. I was back to living with my mom and her new husband in Port Huron, a town where I knew no one but.my mom and her new husband, and one ex girlfriend of my cousin's. She and I had a sort of friendship...we hung out at school and we both worked at the same store, and would go watch my younger cousin's basketball games back in Brown City. When my mom finally was fed up with me, Erika was the only person I had to turn to. I moved in with her, which was probably one of the worst things I could have done- I would have been better off living under a bridge.
Except for the fact that Erika tried really hard to bond with me for a time. We worked different shifts- I worked midnights and she worked days, and in between we had school, so the rare occasions we were both home, I was usually asleep. Her stealing my clothes and various things didn't really help foster the the sister-friend relationship she wanted. Her last ditch effort was to get a pair of kittens from another co-worker because she knew I liked cats. Really awful reason to get pets (kind of like- our relationship is on the rocks, let's have a baby to save it!), especially considering she'd never had an actual pet before.
Her father was like a lot of other men where we grew up- a total douchenozzle who hunts for fun. Her parent's house is one fucked up house of death, with stuffed 'trophies' everywhere. Bears, deer, pheasants, fish, bobcat...it's creepy. When their barn cat population got 'out of control' he would use the cats as target practice. Erika wasn't a hunter, but she had her father's detachment to the pain of living creatures. She had no idea how to care for cats, and wasn't interested in learning. Why she thought getting kittens would be super fun, I have no idea.
Did I mention the kittens were a surprise? And that they hadn't been socialized at all?
Our co-worker, Melissa, wasn't supposed to have cats because her dad hated them, so her cat was kept in her room at all times. Except that time she escaped while she was in heat. The kittens were kept in secret in her room- under her bed. They never saw anyone but Melissa, and when they were finally big enough to eat solid food, she got rid of them. I DON'T UNDERSTAND PEOPLE AT ALL.
So, these two pathetic black fluffs of fur were brought into our apartment, and hid under the couch for the first few days. They started to come out if I was home alone, but not if Erika was. She was fed up with the litter box existing after a week, and the fact that the kittens wanted nothing to do with her, and demanded I keep them in my room...
Let me explain about my room. Erika was in a one bedroom apartment when I moved in with her...into her boiler room. There was just enough room for a twin bed and a tiny white rack where I kept my clothes, and that was it. The kittens didn't seem to mind, but I felt bad about it and only kept them in there when I was at work.
I don't know how to explain how messed up I was at this time. During the months I lived with Erika I was on Lithium, which took my barely manageable depression and turned it into my own personal hell. I had started cutting the year before and that behavior hadn't lessened at all. I was a walking suicidal zombie. I had to drop out of school (again!) because I had lost all my financial aid when my mom got married, and was stuck working midnights in a grocery store where another employee was stalking me. Everyone thought it was funny. I was terrified. I had a falling out with my father the year before, and now my mom didn't want me around either- the reasoning for both was for something I had no control over. My father said my depression was a sickness that was going to infect his other kids (and then chased my out of the house with a knife and almost ran me off the road with his truck. True pillar of sanity, that one.), and my mom thought depression was something I was making up for attention (which is funny, since I didn't want to be around anyone, let alone draw attention to myself.), and that I was sabotaging her marriage.The only one who understood at all was my grandmother, but I wasn't about to move in with her unless I could be stable.
All I had at that point was those two kittens- Kira and Annabelle. They didn't blame me for anything, they just gave me undivided and devoted attention and love. I was the center of their world, and I truly believe that without them I was probably weeks from committing suicide, if that. The self harming behavior gradually decreased. I started being able to push aside suicidal thoughts because if anything happened to me, I was terrified at what their future would be with Erika. They were completely dependent on me, and I couldn't go dying just because it hurt so hard to be alive.
My life started to get better little by little after that. I managed to make some actual friends that weren't just being pseudo nice to me to try to get back with my sleazy cousin. My mom took pity on the kittens having to live in that crappy apartment, and took them home with her. A few weeks later, she did the same with me. I got off lithium and stopped taking anti-depressants all together- I realize that anti-depressants help thousands of people. I wasn't one of them. (The only time antidepressants did anything positive for me was the first two weeks I was on Zoloft- after I had to sit and watch my apartment building go up in flames with my cats inside. After those two weeks, though, it was useless and I had to come back off it. My brain hates pills.)
After getting a new job and finding a place of my own, I was planning on just taking Kira, as my mom was very insistent on keeping Annabelle. She also told me if I didn't take Boyd, he'd find himself on a farm far far away. (Everyone says they love that cat, but no one likes to live with him.) After my first night away, I received a call to come get Annabelle, too. She had spent the whole night sitting at the door, crying for her sister.
Belle and Kira may be sisters from the same litter, but the most they have in common is their color and their love of Boyd.
 |
| Belle and Boyd |
 |
| Boyd and Kira |
Kira sleeps more than any cat I have, and is the biggest bully, too. The first time she met my mom's bully cat, Mia, she clocked her in the face and walked away- mind, Kira was about 3 months old at that point, and Mia was full grown. She puts up with no shit from anyone, but loooooooovvvveesss baby animals. Loves them. There was a bunny in our apartment for a day and she spent the hole day just cleaning him. A few months after I moved out on my own, my mom came home from a trip to her sister's with two kittens. She kept one and brought the other one over- a little gray blue kitten who I named Taran (because if I was already one cat over the 2 cat limit for my apartment complex, what was one more, right?). All three of my cats took too him, but he was Kira's little baby. There was never an acclimation time like there has been introducing any of my other cats to each other, they all took to him right away. I might write more about him later. After he died (he was a very sickly kitten), Kira herself fell into a deep depression. She wouldn't eat, she wouldn't drink, she just wandered the house looking for Taran and sleeping in his favorite spots. She lost half her body weight and it was a fight to keep her going (especially since the vet said there was nothing wrong with her). She pulled through, but she hasn't taken to any other animal she's been introduced to since.
 |
| Also, she loves water. |
She's never been too impressed with other people, either. She used to sleep on the pillow next to me at night, but since Anton came along she won't get on the bed with him there- he apparently doesn't understand that's her side of the bed. She looks like a dragon, and while she's black, she has this warm chocolaty undercoat of brown fur that's almost red in the sunlight. She also has an obsession with water- the fresher, the better. She won't drink out of the same bowl as everyone else, so she gets her own bowl in the bedroom. Heaven help anyone who thinks they can go to bed without filling it.
 |
| She lay like that for hours. |
A: Out?
J: Not now.
A:....out?
J: Not now. Later.
A:...........now?
J:No, not now. Later.
A:..............................now?
I'm not one of those crazy people who think they hold conversations with their pets, really. I promise. But cats have a wide range of vocalizations and can mimic human speech. Boyd and Annabelle love "out". They'll sit hopefully by the door and parrot it all day if they think there's a chance they'll be let out. Annabelle started with the "now" this summer. My mom's cat Mal will tell you "no." Dogs, in comparison, have about 12 different vocalizations. Dogs are crap.
She's also crazy picky. She can't abide a mess. Just now, she came to sit next to me but the remote and my phone where there. Any of the other four would gladly kick the stuff out of their way as they jumped up, delighted to be inconveniencing me. Annabelle waits until you move it. She won't even step on rumpled covers on the bed- the blankets must be smooth or forget it. She's got several neurosis, and as long as you're prepared for them she's the best cat. If you try to change or fix her, forget it. She'll have none of it and will just make you miserable.
I love my girls. Happy birthday to the best little Halloween cats ever.
