I’m going to be honest right away, you might be hearing a lot about the transitions I am making from a proud owner of two cats to the proud owner of one.
The passing of Oliver marked a strange and poetic piece of my life. My place as care taker and nurturer has changed meaning in some ways. Oliver was my very first cat. It took me twelve years for him to stumble into my life, and I had him for twelve years there after. In those twelve years we have had many late nights and medical scares. Snuggle and scratches. I would change nothing about those years. I did what I could for my lovable fat orange kitty. But I find myself in an odd place. I am used to having two cats now. Shelby came into my life only a year after Oliver, also by happenstance. It was as if I was meant to juggle the stress and lives of two cats, and they have been worth every moment. Now, I only have one kitty to keep track of, and it’s strange.
I have never had an emergency with her. She just wants to snuggle and play. She doesn’t get into mischief. She’s pretty chill, mostly because she is too fearful to do anything crazy. Oliver, was the exact opposite. He was fearless, and therefore, a danger to himself more often.
So now I find myself a bit lost. That sounds really melodramatic, but it’s a mild form of lost. I was so distracted by the personalities of two living creatures, I find I’m rediscovering the personality of one. She is much more complex than he seemed. She has more moods than I had ever noticed. She copes differently. She adjusts differently. She has more energy than I had realized. I hadn’t realized how much she had slowed down for Oliver. I’m having trouble keeping up with her. It’s fascinating, and somewhat scary. I hadn’t know so much about her than what I have learned in the last two days, and it saddens me to think of how little I knew of my Oliver. How much I might have missed out on.
I also find myself paranoid. I feel like I no longer understand what normal and abnormal behavior actually looks like with Shelby. With Oliver it was obvious something wasn’t quite right. His lack of eating being one of them. But with Shelby, she doesn’t eat much anyway. She nibbles for days without making much of a dent in her bowl. To top it all off, she has quite a bit of energy, but also a great deal of fear, and often goes into hiding for extended periods of time. WhT if she gets sick? Will she hide? I try not to think about the what ifs, but I can’t help it right now.