Infamous,
I so feel you... I also feel very engaged right now as I formulate this post--and (to be candid) glad for the relative anonymity of this message board. I have a cat named Kimba who is now six and a half years old. I believe I have a closeness with this kitty unlike any that's come before. When I say, "unlike any," I do not mean, "unlike any other cat" since I've never had a cat before. I really do mean, "unlike any other relationship of any kind."
I always thought of myself as a dog person. The decision to get a cat came only after I'd separated from my wife. My daughter, then 13, had always wanted a pet, but her mother had no patience for them and would not allow it. My apartment complex at the time allowed residents to have one cat, so off we went to the pound. There were quite a few baby kitties there. In one cage, I pointed one out, but my daughter liked the whitish one next to it. I was surprised since it was completely passed out and seemed a little listless. But that's the one she picked.
The first two weeks were mind-bogglingly frustrating, as she would cry all night to come into my bedroom. I felt certain that I would win out--but in the end this tiny furball completely broke me. I began to let her sleep with me, and over time we became close friends. Even though I knew separation from my wife (a volatile alcoholic) was the responsible decision, I was a JW, and this produced intense feelings of guilt. I also felt entirely disconnected from everything. Kimba was my companion through this time.
She was also there while I was disfellowshipped--unlike anyone else. When I would struggle emotionally over why I'd been DFd, why Jehovah would really want me to remain married to a maniacally unstable and frequently violent person, and why things just weren't adding up--Kimba was there. She always seemed to sense the unease, sniffing the air near me, trying to discern the problem. She was right there next to my computer--as usual--when I first logged onto JWD, when I cautiously gave myself permission to conduct an objective investigation of the Watchtower Society, and when, on September 15th, 2004, my eyes became opened, finally seeing this organization wasn't what it purported to be.
She has moved with my daughter and me on our fade, from Michigan to California and now to Arizona. She has chosen me as her pet, and aside from those times when she wants to go off for a reclusive snooze, usually wants to be on my lap--or as close to me as possible. It is a closeness I've not had before--and I can definitely understand how you would call your cat "friend," and why you would be so devastated by your friend's loss.
When the time comes for me, I will be wrecked. I'm so sorry for your loss.
Confession
