Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Tough Cholces

I love my feline associates. I have known four of them since they were born. Now, I've come to the unfortunate task of choosing who is staying and who is going. 

I could keep two but I really need to adopt them all out. Riley is a Bombay, or black cat, so she doesn't have a great chance in the adoption world even though Bombays are really smart and lovely. I love Maeson my Lynx Colorpoint Shorthair. He is so loving. Anoushka is just starting to warm up to me being Miss Independent Calico that she is. Jack, my black and white with a pink nose man, he is so adorable and cuddly.

My heart is so torn. Each deserves a home that can titter to them, play with them, and love them. I wish I could give them everything, but I cannot. 

I cannot give what I don't have myself and sometimes love isn't enough. 

I had to ask for help feeding them this coming month. I hate asking for help but I had to. So I am back to making choices. 

I often feel punished for being ill. I had to give up my service cat because of ear infections her last owner did nothing about. I tried to get some friends to help me rescue her from the Humane Society but no one would step up and be a friend to me or Georgie. 

And, I really need her.

I often forget I am cooking something on the stove and she would pester me until I went to see what she was upset about: a pan boiling over or boiling dry. 

I still need her. She was also a Bombay and very intelligent. She taught herself to look out for my short term memory issues.  

I reached out to funding sites, grant sites, and people on social media. Again, no one was there. I feel so bad wondering if the Humane Society killed her or if she is in a cage all alone. 

Here I go crying again and I'm not a crier. My mother would never allow me to cry so I had to learn to hold my emotions all inside or get hit until I stopped. As a small child, I learned to keep quiet. Children were to be seen; not to be heard.

I was incredibly smart, incredibly gifted and no one did anything about it. I feel so behind because I wasn't supported enough, or at all. It's a crime in my book when a good mind goes to waste. I'll never know what awesome contributions to humanity I could have made. 

My brain is malfunctioning now, so I doubt that Great American Novel will come out of that inflammatory damage. Too bad too...

With Georgie not here to help me and I have to replace a pan yet again, which is costly by the way, and the decisions about the babies, I am at my emotional end.

Part of me knows that the kittens and the two year old cat, Ivanka, who co-raised the babies with Irene their mother need a better home than mine. I would still have Ray, the abused white cat who is twelve years old. When he goes to kitty heaven, then I would be alone in the house once more.

I do need some type of companionship, but I'm allergic to everyone I know. So a cat is the best deal. I wonder though if I am a good deal to the cat?

 Georgie Mikayla kitty, I sooo miss you!