What I did on my previous post could be one of the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. Yes, I gave up on my cat. For exactly one week. One of the longest week filled with emptiness, tears, and regret. I knew he was in a good home and that I could visit him anytime, yet there’s a big gap in my heart between the ticking hours. No more giggling looking at his silliness, no more cute little moan when he stretches on his sleep, no more soft paws touching my face at midnight.
I did not miss his flyaway furs that triggers my allergies, nor the litter he brought to my bed that triggers my fear of germs. I also did not miss the 5-times-a-day sweeping, wiping our leather sofa, or changing pillowcase every couple of days. He was my baby. He was part of my family and I gave him up just because I can? That thought haunts me day and night eventhough I had my reasons.
Then we visit his new home and saw how his new parents, our friend Lauren and Craig, dealt with some of the problem I was having. They changed his regular litter box to a dome litter box and face it against the wall so he doesn’t just run off leaving trails of litter. Reality stabs me in the heart. Have I loved him enough if it requires certain codes, norms, rules, for me to love and accept him the way he is? Isn’t love is supposed to be unconditional?
We should be the one to adjust and find ways to live with it instead of giving up. We should have looked at alternatives, seek out help, and most important of all, we should’ve been more patient. Thankfully the sweet couple were willing to give Archie back to us, knowing that we would keep him for as long as his life shall be.
It hasn’t been easy with his latest behavior, stepping on his own waste, leaving trails of dirt all around the house, especially when I found it on my bed. The ‘me’ before would’ve screamed frantically and locked him in a room. Instead, I sighed and brought him to the sink and washed his filthy feet and cleaned the area he might’ve stepped on. The ‘me’ before would’ve worried about making his life uncomfortable, too clean, too lonely at times… Worried that I made him stressed out, or treating him like human. Then I remember that loving, and living with someone else, is about compromising. And that goes for him, too.
Love forgives, tolerates, compromises, and accepts. I failed to acknowledge how I loved him, and now he taught me to love unconditionally. No matter how upset I was and snapped at him, he would come to me at the end (or beginning) of the day with a kiss. What’s the most important thing your babies taught you? 🙂