Following the Felines

I said goodbye to my fourteen-year-old cat the other day.

I miss Nermal terribly. She was feisty up until the very end but unfortunately, her digestive system wasn't working anymore. I held her in my arms for at least 30 minutes after the vet euthanized her. This was mostly because if I moved her out of my arms after she was dead it would have broken my heart.

It was also because no one at the vet's office bothered to tell me to notify the front desk when I was done. No one bothered to check on me either. "Oh, well, we usually give you as much time as you need," the assistant explained as she removed my cat from the room. "You're supposed to let us know when you're done."

Blame my lack of experience killing cats.

Moving on in so many ways, the new kitten, Starlight, is attempting to prove the old adage about curiosity. Though there are three dogs upstairs (including two rambunctious wiener dogs), she insists on prancing up the stairs ten times a day. So, my recent chore was to find a gate wide enough and tall enough to cover the entrance to the stairs.

This new cat is nothing if not a destroyer of worlds. She claws carpets and furniture constantly and knocks over random objects in her pursuit of bugs or cat toys. I made the mistake of opening my window for her: she proceeded to latch onto the screen and break it. It swung outward with her on it. I ran out front just in time to prevent her from running away.

The joy she brings my daughter is immeasurable, and she is a sweet little thing. I haven’t had a kitten in so long that I’m not sure whether this cat is truly crazy or I’ve forgotten the extent of the psychosis kittens seem to suffer from. She keeps us up late or gets us up incredibly early, she is hungry all the time and mostly for human toes.

I am going to emulate the cat, except for the eating toes thing (and the whole crapping in a box thing). She runs around all the time like a little maniac and she’s definitely not of the chubby variety. She seems to have joy in the sheer business of movement despite her frequent falls and fails.

To cope with my depression and mood swings, I need exercise in my life. Do I believe it’s a cure for mental illness? Absolutely not, but it’s definitely a combatant. As ya’ll may or may not have been aware, I tried Beachbody. And I liked it, and I lost some weight, but it’s just not for me. I may still use the abdominal workouts, but the lunges are too much on my knees at this weight.

Other than consistent movement, I’m going to struggle to make healthy choices, every day. Will I miss my cheese dip, sourdough bread, and multiple incarnations of the potato? Absolutely. But I am going to shop for fresh produce every few days and (gasp) eat it instead of chips. If I ever manage to go on another date, I will choose something somewhat healthy from the menu (adieu, bacon burger and fries. I hardly knew ye).

Though I am a crazy cat lady, I will not adhere to a diet of Friskies. I tried that once, it was a childhood “open your mouth and close your eyes” situation. Never again.

So I have written my resolution. Now, to put it into motion.