Ten years ago on Feb 2nd, the cutest little two pound ragamuffin decided to allow me to adopt her. I had no idea what her name was so I resorted to calling various names out to see if she’d respond. I finally called out ‘Molly’ and she turned and nodded to acknowledge that I’d figured it out.
Ten years later, I can tell you that they vastly undercharged for the adoption fee. $65 was a steal…and if you offered me billions for her, I’d give you the stink eye.
This little companion of mine…
Well, she has cuddled her cute little self up to me through so many serious times. Four job changes, three moves, two broken hearts, one deployment, one family suicide, and the aches and pains that come with learning who you are fresh out of college and new to the workforce. All of that would be a lot for one little cat to comfort, right?
Then top that off with one chronic illness, the loss of several beloved hobbies, the fear and temporary loss of identity, and the aches and pains that come with pulling yourself out of this.
I may laugh about how badly she can behave, but she really is a very good girl.
The little (very unhappy) pumpkin knows my emotions better than I do. When I flared so badly several years ago and every time I’m sick or upset, she is in whatever room I’m in. I’m in bed, she’s in bed. I’m on the couch, she’s on the couch. I’m in the shower, she sits between the curtain and liner and hisses at the water. If I cry, she follows me around crying until I sit and she can crawl in my lap.
Her presence is calming and her antics are adorable.
She’s even tough on guys who come by.
Well, that picture was her posture for the cable guy who was a stranger but still. Guy = protective. And unlike my dad and brother, she has claws and teeth.
I’ve noticed many patients rely on their pets for comfort. I’ve read literature that states pets are good for longevity, blood pressure, and happiness.
These are all things that are true at my house.
Happy 10th Birthday, Molly cat! I love you to pieces!