I spent most last night twisting and turning. This chest cold was keeping me up. My little guy (age 9) made his way into my bed and I ended up on the couch because I didn’t want to share this cold with him. Moira, my two-year-old brown Tabby cat, spent most of the night at my feet. When she heard me cough, sneeze or get up to get a drink of water to soothe my sore throat, she would come next to me and rub her nose towards my hand, so I would pet her. When I ignored her, she would tap my chest with her paw. She would purr once she got her way and got petted.
Moira isn’t a very cuddly cat. She only wants attention on her own terms. But she is very loving, especially when she sees her human mama struggling. She has helped me get through many RA flares in past year and a half since she came into our lives. She gives as much love as she is given.
She and my boys aren’t always on the best terms. She may like them, but she mostly tolerates them. The nine-year-old wants to carry her around and make her stay and cuddle. She is no cuddler and she wants to run about, so he usually ends up being scratched. And for my 18-year-old, the moment she hears his voice she hides behind her human mama. He is never done anything to make her fear him, but his size intimidates her.
Moira came into our lives two months after we lost Mom. My kids had for years asked for a pet, but I never gave in because the responsibility of a pet would have fallen on me. After many years of contemplation, I finally decided that a cat was easier to take care of when you live with chronic pain.
We met a nearly six-month-old Moira at our local pet rescue. You know how they say, “Who rescued who?” Well, I strongly believe Moira rescued us, especially me, with everything I was dealing with at the time. Further, she picked us, we didn’t pick her.
We went to the pet rescue that day looking for an older, short haired cat. And we looked at plenty of cats, all in cages. Moira wasn’t in a cage. She was in a play area trying to get our attention, and I didn’t want her because she was a long-haired cat. All my type A personality could think of is all the vacuuming I wouldn’t be able to keep up with. But Moira wasn’t having it. After all, her brother was adopted earlier in the day, and she was going to follow suit, so she put the charm on. It took some time, but that girl got my attention and she came home with us that day, much to my children’s dismay because they wanted a male kitten who is was 2 or 3 months old.
Moira has gotten plenty of love, care and pampering, but she gets as much as a she gives, especially when it comes to her human mama. She is also a bit of a snob. Sometimes, I watch her snubbing her food or us and I wonder if she was royalty in a previous life. Or when I watch her stretching and staring at herself in the mirror, I wonder what she is thinking. Is she thinking that she is as beautiful as I tell her she is?
Then there are those moments where she does the craziest things, like stare at a wall for no reason, or climb into the sink, push open the faucet, wet her head and then have a long drink. Or when she tries to fit into a box that is way too small for her. Or maybe it is the fact that when it comes to her snacks, she knows how to manipulate the kids while I am freaking out that they are going to make her fat.
All I know is that 2-year-old cat (almost 26 in human years) has brought a lot of joy to our lives from the day she came home. Not only does she make me laugh and feel needed, but she also is there when I am feeling my worst. Someway, she has connected and bonded with me, and made my life so much happier and filled it with the kind of love I couldn’t have imagined. And even if I am still not feeling well tonight, that beautiful feline will be by my side showing me the same TLC that I have shown her. Pets can be such a blessing and joy and until you have one, you have no idea.