A history of pets

My kitten, Magnus, has been sick on and off for about a month now and it’s been bringing up a lot of feelings for me that I didn’t realize I had never dealt with. My cats are my everything and sometimes I feel as though people who don’t have any pets don’t understand the bond between a human and their pet. I even remember a guy I went to high school with posting something a while back along the lines of “hating” when people refer to their pets as “children” because it’s “not the same thing.” No, I did not give birth to my cats but I care for them, feed them, even bathe them when needed. They comfort me when I’m sick or sad and I will be there to take care of them until their last breath.

I was talking about this during therapy today and I began to cry. Why? Because Mojo and Magnus are not my first cats. Watching Magnus struggle to walk around the last couple of weeks made me think about the first cat I ever lived with (I say lived with because he wasn’t exactly mine).

This is Strummer. When I met Strummer he was only 2 years old and, to put it mildly… pretty insane. He not only loved to chase bottle caps, but knew the sound of a six-pack and anxiously awaited his chance to play. If you gave him a toy mouse you had to be prepared to get it back soaking wet because the very first thing he’d do was dunk it in the toilet so he could fish it back out again. Now, Strummer was technically my ex’s cat and he really only tolerated other people. He liked that I fed him, but other than that he wasn’t the snuggling type… not with me anyway.

Around the time Strummer turned 5, he started limping. Nothing serious, but just a little bit of a limp every now and then. However, over the course of just a few months it got worse. After a trip to the vet, it was found out that Strummer had a hereditary and degenerative joint problem in his knees. The vet said that surgery could be done but that there was no guarantee it would work. Instead medication and joint supplements were chosen, though getting him to take the medication was a totally separate issue.

Towards the end of the summer, after only a couple months, it was very clear that he was only getting worse. He could barely walk and was literally dragging himself around the apartment. He couldn’t stand up long enough to even get into the litter box. The most difficult decision that any pet parent can make was made, and on August 30, 2012, Strummer crossed the rainbow bridge.

Now this… is RJ. What is there to say about RJ? I feel like he would make the perfect subject of a children’s book. RJ came along when it was felt that Strummer needed a friend. RJ was the most lovable cat I’ve ever encountered. He loved everything and everyone he met. He would greet me at the door when I got home from work, follow me around until I was ready to sit down, and then plop himself on my hip once I did. He was the first cat that ever truly felt like mine. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed and I’m pretty sure he thought his name was Strummer, but that only made him more lovable. Unfortunately in June 2012 when a move to a new apartment was imminent and the new apartment only allowed 1 cat, RJ was given to a friend that he was comfortable with. I hated saying goodbye to him that day but knew he was going somewhere that he would be loved.

Oh, my Coozy girl. The house was so quiet after Strummer and even though the sting of grief was still there, the absence of a cat was palpable. That’s when Coozy came along. Only 10 weeks old, she was the tiniest thing I’d ever seen and I fell instantly in love. She cuddled, but only on her terms, and loved to play. She was sassy and chatty and always let you know that she was the boss. Coozy also had a neurological problem called feline hyperesthesia which caused vibrations down her spine and, when really bad, hallucinations. I knew how to help her when she had episodes and she often came to me for comfort when she needed it.

When I got pregnant, I’m pretty sure she knew before I did. She would snuggle up to my stomach and fall asleep because she knew what was happening in there. On the day of the miscarriage, I woke up from a nap in horrible pain and there was Coozy. She was watching me sleep because she knew… she knew before I even really knew and was by my side the whole night.

When I moved out in March 2018, my ex and I made the decision to split up the cats. Mojo stayed with me and Coozy stayed with my ex. I bawled my eyes out having to say goodbye to her and there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about her. She’ll always be my little princess… my Coozy girl.

Alright, it’s Mojo’s turn. When I say that Mojo is the love of my life I’m not being cute. This cat is my entire world. He’s everything to me. He was only 8 weeks old (to the day) the day I brought him home. He chose me and curled up on my chest the moment I held him. He was a mama’s boy from day 1 and has not left my side since. He just turned 5 last week and I started thinking about everything that’s changed and how much has happened in the last 5 years. Through everything, he was the one by my side. He has been the one constant in my life. There is absolutely no way I would have made it through the last 3 years, and especially the last year, without him. Hell, I dedicated my book to him for a reason.

Now for sweet baby Magnus. If you don’t know Magnus’s story, be sure to check out this post. I don’t think I’ve ever met a needier cat. He’s basically me… in cat form. He has severe separation anxiety, hates being left alone, needs to be touching some part of me at all times, loves to snuggle, but hates kisses. When he started getting sick a few weeks back I was so upset that I didn’t notice right away. Then he got better… and then it got worse than before. He’s slowly making his way back to normal (I hope!) but watching him struggle breaks my heart. Knowing what that loss feels like I simply never want to go through that ever again.

I know someday both Mojo and Magnus will also cross the rainbow bridge. I hope, for my sake and theirs, that those days are a long long LONG time from now. Just thinking about losing either of them makes my chest ache.

So for anyone that claims people shouldn’t call their pets “children” or who think that someone with pets and no children doesn’t understand what it means to be a parent, I have this to say: not everyone can have kids. Some people try and fail. Some people don’t want them. Whatever the reason that someone doesn’t have children, do not judge them for having pets and referring to them as children. As far as I’m concerned, Mojo and Magnus are brothers. Coozy was their big sister. Strummer was the big brother to all of them. RJ, well… RJ is the crazy uncle. They are mine and I love them unconditionally. Is it 100% exactly the same as having children? No of course not, but as far as I know, at this exact moment, they’re the only children I’ll ever have. And if that’s the case… I honestly don’t really mind.

To anyone who has ever had to say goodbye to a pet, I hope you are feeling the hug I’m sending out to you right now. Pets are our everything - our constant companions, sounding boards, and foot warmers. I don’t know what my life would be without M & M but I can say with certainty, it would be very empty.

- Danielle