#like literally idk why it showed up this should’ve been deleted long ago so idk where it was being saved ����

[dnpbeats]

for some reason a couple of random imessage chats showed up on my phone from years ago and this is the oldest one that came up 😭

[nattikay]

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Just trying to sort out some thoughts, came here cuz not sure where else to do it. Might delete later.

So we’ve had Maisie for almost a week now an honestly, it’s...caused me a lot more stress than I’d expected it to. Don’t get me wrong, I like her, and I don’t plan to give her back to the shelter or anything, good gracious, no--but tbh I feel a little guilty for not being ~euphoric~ over the whole scenario, and I’m just trying to work out why.

Don’t worry she is being well taken care of! This is an emotional issue, not an ability-to-care-for issue.

I think some of it may have its roots in our old cat, Harry Pawter. We got Harry when I was around 9 years old and I loved him. However, being a child when we got him, I was never really super good at taking care of him; most of the animal care wound up falling on my parents. 

Harry, for the most part, was a pretty good cat most of his life, but he started developing health problems around his last two years or so. By this point I was in high school, and for all intents and purposes should’ve been old enough and responsible enough to step in and help take proper care of him. But by that point, I hadn’t really formed those habits and...I never really did. Not as much as I should have. And looking back...tbh I feel really bad about it, and wonder if I didn’t love him as much as I should have, or as much as I thought I did. My dad would certainly imply at much when he got frustrated with the cat, and that...kinda sunk its way into my brain, I guess.

I’ve mentioned before that we lost Harry my freshman year of college, my very first semester. But I haven’t told the whole story, because well...I feel really bad about it. But maybe it’ll be good to get it off my chest.

See, Harry’s health had been declining for a while at that point (he was now 9 years old btw). He was struggling to keep himself clean and having more and more accidents outside the litterbox. My dad took him to the vet, and the vet suspected he may have had a brain tumor. All this was happening recently after I started my first semester of college, so I wasn’t home at the time, only getting this info via phone calls. 

My dad didn’t want to pay for expensive tests and surgeries for a cat, so was considering putting him down. I was obviously not in favor of that idea, so we decided that we’d wait until I came home for Christmas and then discuss what to do about the Harry situation.

But we never got the chance. Around November, there was some sort of leak under the fridge or something (I don’t remember the details; again I wasn’t home at the time) and we had to get a lot of work done in there to fix it, which included having all the tiles completely removed and huge fans placed in the kitchen to blow away the ensuing dust. In order to keep Harry out of the way of the construction, we wound up regulating him to the screened-in back patio (and for further context: Harry had always been an indoor-only cat, and never showed much interest in going outside). Needless to say, on top of his health concerns, this construction and jarring change in environment was probably really stressful for him. One day, he found his way out of the patio...and never came back. 

We...don’t really know for sure what happened to him after that. I like to say that he passed away rather than ran away, partly because he didn’t really have great survival skills and between that and his already-present health issues, well...I don’t think he would’ve survived long as a stray, and I prefer to imagine that his suffering ended as quickly and painlessly as possible. Even if he did manage to survive for a while then, he’s almost certainly gone now, given that he’d be nearly 15 by this point...but I digress.

All that said...idk, I guess I never really got any proper closure with Harry. And the more I learn about how to properly care for a cat, especially doing all the research I’ve been doing for Maisie...well, the worse I feel for him.

It’s not that we were bad owners, per se, and we certainly weren’t malicious in any way...but man, we could’ve done so much better. Harry was definitely overfed and undergroomed and we didn’t really know how to deal with his issues later in life...again, we weren’t malicious, but I think we were ignorant. I can’t really blame myself in the early years given that I was a literal child but by the time I reached high school and the like...idk I just feel like I could have and should have done so much better. I wonder how many issues could’ve been resolved if we’d been more attentive, more vigilant. Had been willing to put in more effort than just “meh fill up his food bowl twice a day and have Dad change the litter once in a while”.

And with all that considered, well...let’s just say I have doubts as to my prowess as a cat guardian. I want to make sure what went wrong with Harry goes right with Maisie and I just...idk. It’s just been a lot more emotional pressure than I expected it to be, even more so considering I haven’t yet quite formed the emotional bond with Maisie that I felt with Harry (not that I necessarily should have expected to at this point, given that we’ve only had Maisie for less than a week whereas we had Harry for nine years). But still.

And I mean, it’s not like taking care of Maisie has been difficult from an objective standpoint. It boils down to just feeding her (and making sure it’s the right amount of food), cleaning her litterbox, and playing with her, all of which are pretty simple and straightforward (well actually trying to figure out the right amount of food for her age and size has been a bit of a chore but I digress). 

Again, it’s not the tasks themselves that are an issue...it’s, I guess, the emotional baggage, or something. Knowing that as my cat the responsibility rests squarely on my shoulders (as opposed to having Harry where my parents took up most of the tasks) probably contributes as well.

Probably doesn’t help that this was a rather sudden development as well. It was only a week ago that we even seriously entertained the possibility of getting a new cat, and now here we are. It all happened so fast, it...almost doesn’t seem real.

Then again, not much has been feeling “real” to me lately. But that’s a separate issue and one for my therapist. :P

I also, despite all objective evidence to the contrary, feel almost like I’m being a burden my bringing Maisie into the house. I know that I shouldn’t...it wasn’t even my idea. My brother made the suggestion, my mom endorsed it, my dad ultimately agreed. The whole family seems to like her, even my dad who is by far the least of a cat-person out of all of us has pet her and talked soft to her (I expected him to mostly ignore her).

But...well, ok, another (shorter) storytime. My parents, while they don’t dislike pets, have had enough of them to last their lives, especially after Harry’s troubled final years, which we kids (regrettably) did not do much to help with despite being older by then. About a year or two after we lost Harry, a family in our church was giving away a bunny for adoption after their two dogs didn’t take well to it. My sister, who has always loved bunnies, begged and begged and begged to adopt it, and after promising and promising to take care of it, my parents finally relented. Alas, the bunny did not wind up being as friendly and cuddly as my sister expected, and after a few weeks she lost interest in it, leaving the bulk of the care responsibilities to our youngest brother (who, to his credit, did pretty well...honestly he’s just pretty good with animals in general, of all types...dogs are his top preference but he’ll happily work with just about anything). Not long later, the poor bunny injured itself, and upon doing some research my parents found that bunnies rarely heal properly from that type of injury (I forget what it was exactly, again I was away in college at the time so don’t recall all the details) and that the most humane option was to put it down. We only had that bunny for a few months.

After that, my dad was (understandably) hesitant to bring another pet into the house, however hard we promise to care for it, cuz last time he relented he got burned and a poor bunny had to suffer. When he agreed to let us get a new cat, he included the (reasonable) stipulation that if it ever seems like we’re not taking proper care of kitty, he’s allowed to make the call to give her up back to the shelter.

Now, I have absolutely zero intentions of pulling a sister-and-the-bunny on Maisie, and I very much plan to take as good care of her as possible. But...you can see how there’s some emotional pressure there, yeah? ^^; 

I feel like I have to be an absolutely flawless owner else I’ve let everyone down and proven that my promises to care for her were just talk. I’m afraid people will get mad at Maisie for doing Cat Things and I’ll take the fall and it’ll be assumed I’m not taking proper care of her because I can’t train her well enough. I’m afraid any inconvenience that naturally comes from owning and animal will by default get pinned on me, that I’ll be at fault because I’m the one who technically owns her, I brought her into the house, were it not for me we wouldn’t be dealing with Animal Inconvenience. 

And yes I know that’s irrational...I know my brain is exaggerating and none of them really expect an 8 month old kitten to have flawless behavior or blame me for it and as long as I’m keeping her happy and healthy it’s fine...and yet...

I don't know.

Pressure, I guess. A big life change that happened pretty suddenly and it’s gonna take a little while for it to become the new normal...I’ve just gotta hang on until it does, I guess...

anyways...

R.I.P. Harry Pawter, 2005-2014

(last picture we ever got of him)

Maisie, I will do my best ;_;

(first picture I ever got of her...which, I am just now realizing, is similar to the last pic of Harry ;n;)