And no, I'm not talking about a baby. I'm talking about the kitten sleeping sweetly next to me as I type these words. It feels so good to bond once again with an animal that loves me unconditionally... and we've only had him 3 days.
Here's a part of the story that needs to be understood:
I used to have a cat. His name was Petey and my father got him for me when I was roughly 4 years old. I grew up with that cat. He was my best friend. When I was 18, I moved out of my father's house right away, for many reasons I will not explain now. I couldn't bring animals into my new house, so Petey had to stay with my father. I made him promise to take excellent care of him, as I would have, until I could find a place that allowed me to have Petey with me.
Months went by. Slowly I started to notice Petey's significant weight loss. My father and his wife insisted he was just getting old, but was not at a loss for food. I bought that story. I shouldn't have.
I have recently found out that my father and his wife kept my beloved Petey locked in the basement. The cat never really saw the light of day, never got to play, to socialize with the people in the house, and was all alone. I moved into a new house with new roommates. We are allowed to have cats here.
July 25th, 2010. I called my father to let him know that I was moving on the 30th. He invited me over to the house on the 29th to pick up a dresser for the new place. I told him that I was allowed a cat at the new place and that I wanted Petey. He was getting old. I wanted him to die with me, the one person who actually cared about him, not in a basement alone.
July 29th, 2010. I went to my father's house to get Petey. It wasn't until this day that my father decided it was the right time to tell me that Petey passed away in June. I was heartbroken. I cried for hours. How could he keep that from me? It was just... wrong.
Today. We have a new kitten in the house. His name is Whiskey. We got him for free and were going to sell him to make some extra cash, but we all fell in love with him instead. He sleeps in my bed, follows me around the house, and meows loudly if I go into a room without him and close the door (example: the bathroom). He is, right now at this very moment, sleeping next to me. I am so in love... it only took a moment. I dread going to work because he will be here alone and he'll meow for me. I'm only going to be gone for 5 hours, but I already can't wait to get home and play with him some more - and I haven't even left the house yet.
I believe that Whiskey is my second chance - to be the Mommy I should have been to Petey toward the end of his life. I should have visited more. Fed him. Bathed him. I blame myself for the horrible state he was in the last time I saw him... he was skin and bones, dirty, his fur was matted, and he was starving. I brought him some food, and you should have seen him scarf it down. I've never seen him eat so fast. When he was done he crawled into my lap and purred himself to sleep. I never saw him again.
Whiskey is my little angel with paws. My little orange beauty. My blue-eyed baby. I will never forget Petey. Whiskey is giving me the chance to remember Petey the way he was when we were growing up: bubbly and playful. Even as he slumbers, Petey's face is there. He is still with me, living through this tiny new addition to our household.
Sleep tight, little Whiskey. I'll be home soon enough. <3