In the days following Mishka's passing I really missed her unique and wonderful companionship; seeing her every time I turned around, having that little voice chirping at me from across the room or from upstairs if I was downstairs (and vice-versa) and having her nestle between Lorne and I on the couch in the evenings. That cherished and constant contact, vocally as much as physically. What good were all my little Mooky rhymes with no Mooky to sing them to? What point in whistling if unaccompanied by her admonishing interjections? And with no regimen of pills and such to administer, I felt an odd sense of redundancy - I had no job to do, no devout caretaking role. It's weird, but I missed that sense of being needed, especially because the boys are young enough, happy enough and (thankfully) healthy enough to just do their own thing. I imagine it must be similar to the empty-nest feeling most parents go through when their children first leave home, although Mishka won't even be coming back to visit.
It was that deep-seated sense of loss - coupled with knowing there are so many other cats (just like Mishka and all of our cats) desperately needing a home - that soon had me flicking through the adoption gallery on VOKRA's website. Vancouver Orphan Kitten Rescue Association, the same organization through whom we adopted Mel and Louis just 18 months ago. Only I wasn't necessarily looking for a kitten per se, just browsing other little cats looking for a loving home and the kind of devotion that I know we give unconditionally to our furry family. I definitely wasn't looking to replace Mishka, how could I? Well I couldn't. If there's one thing I know, it's that each of our cats has been so truly unique, there's no way we could - or should - be looking to replicate that. But maybe we could help just one more......
So Vokra's website is where I found this little love. Her name is Mudd, though literally moreso than figuratively.
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| Mudd on VOKRA's website |
While Lorne also felt Mudd could be a great cat we literally struggled with the emotional and common sense realities of it all, back and forth, for about a month. At one point we actually set up a date to go and meet her but it ended up that Lorne was just too busy at work, the girl who was fostering her (who I estimate to be all of about 15yrs old) was very scattered about planning a date/time and, in the end, we held off. Besides, it turned out another couple was also interested to see her so we decided maybe it wasn't a good time/idea for us but, if they didn't take her, then perhaps we could still think about it.
Her photo and bio remained in the 'Ready to Adopt' gallery of cats and we continued to deliberate and talk around in circles about it for a couple more weeks. I suppose it bears a strong testament to just how seriously we feel about the comittment of taking on a pet, rather than doing it on a whim and figuring out the consequences later - which is how so many of these poor animals end up being surrendered or simply abandoned in the first place. Some days we seemed to have an unspoken agreement not to mention/re-visit the whole idea for a while and other days little Mudd's (unfortunate) name would pop up again - usually triggered by either me or Lorne peeping once more at the VOKRA website and seeing she was still up for adoption.
Part of me even wondered if Lorne might surprise me with her as a birthday gift or else write in my card that we should adopt her, but we remained silent, both conflicted as to whether it would be the right decision, right timing etc. etc. So my birthday came and went and I told myself to just let things lie.....but the very next day (May 2nd) came a follow-up email from Peg at VOKRA, "Mudd is still available, are you ready to adopt? Do you want to go and meet her?"
After further discussion we determined we probably couldn't put the idea to rest without at least going to see her - which we did on May 3rd. It's hard to tell what we both thought afterwards, no further ahead really. Besides, it's awkward trying to get a feel for a new cat when you know the poor thing's already stressed out just in meeting you. So the big, fat, looming question mark remained.
Later that evening there was a follow-up email from a lovely lady, Valerie, at VOKRA, excited to know how the visit had gone and whether we would be adopting Mudd. I/we still couldn't answer.
We decided to sleep on it but the next day I still felt no closer to being capable of making a decision either way and couldn't quite guage where Lorne was at with the idea. I wondered if that in itself - our utter indecisiveness - was perhaps an indicator that we just weren't ready for this....yet. If it was the right thing to do, wouldn't it feel better? Easier? Come with a sense of certainty and excitement rather than angst? I remember we were both pretty excited when we went through the adoption process with Mel and Louis (Oct. 2011). Like expectant parents.
Emotionally I hovered right in-between yes and no - feeling like it wasn't the right time, but afraid if we waited till the right time she might already be gone. Lorne, on the other hand, seemed to be leaning a little more towards no - mostly concerned whether it'd feel too crowded - and I wanted to respect that, not least because he's been really busy and quite stressed for the past few months, since Christmas in fact; crazy-busy at work, working long hours, busy with the whole house move - finding us a new place, selling of stuff on Craigslist beforehand, even selling our camper van - etc. and then all of us being steamrolled by Mishka's passing all happening so terribly fast. And of course even all of that comes on top of nearly a year of underlying worries about my whole cancer diagnosis/treatments too.
It's fair to say that I was feeling horribly selfish and incredibly guilty for even setting this ball rolling in the first place. I was moving closer to believing adopting Mudd would be unfair on everyone but me - the same feeling I'd had a couple of weeks earlier when (with a heavy heart) I informed VOKRA that we'd be holding off on our adoption application.
Anyway, I could go on an on about my angst-ridden internal dilemma but, in the end and with an element of (understandable) exasperation, Lorne said I should just email them back that we'd take her. That way, maybewe could pick her up the same day (Sat. May 4) and at least have a full night/day with her before going back to work on Monday.
"Are you sure about this?" I asked, fingers hovering nervously over the keyboard....
"Just send the email already, we have to get going." he remarked. (We had a booking at the U-Brew to bottle our new batch of IPA).
I hesitated a few seconds more, feeling quite sick with anxiety and my gut instinct telling me (yelling at me even) to write, "sorry, she's a lovely cat but we're just not ready at this time.....". I looked at Lorne (who was staring out the window), looked at Mel & Louis, looked at the empty spot on the couch where Mishka always hung out.......and sent my reply.
"She's a sweety - We'd like to go ahead with the adoption of Mudd. Is there a possibility we can organize today so that we might have the full day with her tomorrow before work on Monday?"
I closed my laptop, we left the house and I lugged a heavy, indescribable weight of anxiety, guilt, shame, selfishness, stupidity and overwhelming angst with me.....(for the next 3 days!)
We met with Valerie that afternoon to finalize the adoption and picked up Mudd that evening. I felt somewhat like a child again, paying for her with the $100 birthday money that I'd got from Lorne's dad, Stan. But since I had wanted this adoption perhaps moreso than Lorne, I felt it only fair. And in that last sentence also lies the key element of my emotional breakdown in the two days that followed.
For some reason, the whole month-long dilemma over the adoption process, bringing home Mudd and the instant change in dynamic of our little household precipitated a complete meltdown on my part. Initially we kept her separate from the boys and that first night wasn't easy because she began crying at 5am, which set the boys off crying and whining, which woke us up and Lorne was so tired and frustrated that he ended up sleeping downstairs on the couch. I brought Mudd into the bedroom with me to try and calm her down, she seemed so upset and agitated. I just felt awful, really awful - sick to my stomach awful. Like I'd brought home this poor, innocent little cat who was all stressed out, everyone else was stressed, the whining was constant, the overall energy was extremely tense and screwy, no-one knew what to make of anything and everything had suddenly changed because I'd spearheaded an adoption that was largely irreversible.
Well, it's not that you can't give a cat back to VOKRA if it really doesn't work out - in fact they'd rather you do that instead of taking them to another shelter or giving them away - but Lorne and I know that we're not those people and that's why we even had such a dilemma in the first place. The kind of people who - as we'd learned from Valerie the day before - had adopted Mel & Louis as small kittens, only to turn around and bring them back to VOKRA a week later. One week! That just baffles me, although I'm glad they did because we ended up adopting them and they're amazing! But seriously, who does that? Oh, and we also found out that little Mudd was one of two cats surrendered by their previous owners because they were moving to a place that didn't allow pets. WTF???? WHY would you move to a place that doesn't allow pets when you have pets? These people who simply think animals are disposable and, once they lose their cuteness, get old, sick or don't suit their owners' precious lifestlye or furniture anymore, they simply get dumped on the scrapheap? I don't get it, really I don't!
Well, in the 48 hours after we brought Mudd home, I felt so bad wondering if I'd even done the right - or fair - thing, that it actually started to cross my mind. I hate to admit it, but for a moment in my overwhelmed, high-anxiety state of mind, I felt like I'd made such an unfortunate decision (and had clearly ignored the warnings of my strong gut instinct) that I honestly didn't know what to do to make it right. However, in the midst of that, I knew I couldn't give up on Mudd either - with only the best of intentions I/we had brought her into our home and should do right by her, even if I was still panicking about what 'right' should actually look like.
The enormity of my guilt and emotional/mental anguish leads me to suspect that perhaps it wasn't all about Mudd. Besides, Lorne seemed to be doing ok with it after that first night (thankfully the second night was much better) and even the boys were quickly adjusting to the newcomer in their midst, being quite curious yet fairly submissive - they just wanted to get close enough to check her out and Mel in particular seems smitten. But there was nevertheless a terribly heavy feeling in the pitt of my stomach, a lump in my throat and an ominous question running over and over in mind, "Was this a terrible and unfair mistake?"
With the best will in the world I'd made a heart-felt and compassionate decision to give this little girl a loving new forever home but soon realized my timing was far from perfect; coming too soon after losing Mishka, hot on the heels of us all adjusting to our new home and altered family dynamic, right in the midst of my job and our financial uncertainty, so soon after moving to a much smaller place, adding stress to Lorne's mental load and sending my own anxiety level shooting through the roof. Yup, it was a lovely thought and the decision was made with a caring and honest heart, but simply terrible timing on my part and this poor little cat - who only asked for a warm and loving home - was unwittingly stuck in the middle of it. Guilt, guilt, guilt and more guilt!
Overwhelmed by the intensity of my own emotions those couple of days, I had to dig deep and figure out what was really going on behind all this because it felt so much bigger than being about adopting a new cat which, to all intents and purposes, I had thought would be a lovely thing to do - why did it suddenly feel so wrong? But it wasn't just the 'adoption' that felt wrong, per se - it was something deeper within me that felt thrown into chaos, drowning in guilt and worry. Perhaps an accumulation of a year's worth of big life events catching up with me all in one fell swoop?
A well-meaning friend pointed out that perhaps I should just breathe and cut myself some slack. After all, in the space of the last 12 months, I've gone through:
- Losing my job
- Getting diagnosed with breast cancer
- Surgery
- Radiation
- Moving house
- Loss of a family member (little Mooky, after nearly 16 years)
- The imminent probability of being unemployed again (with my current contract drawing to a close and my Employment Insurance benefits finishing completely in the next couple of weeks)
So, on Monday (May 6) I went home a little earlier than usual in an attempt to take some time, hang with the cats and get things a little straighter inside my own head. And I'm so glad I did!
When I got home, all three cats were surprisingly relaxed - even with each other - just lazing around, hanging out and basically quite content. Within the space of 48hrs, Mudd seemed to be blending perfectly into our little homestead and the boys are so good-natured, they already seemed largely unphased.Let me just say that internal angst is great for getting the house clean - I must have swept, vacuumed, mopped, dusted, polished, scrubbed and laundered like a mad woman. By the time Lorne came home, the house was near sparkling and I already felt soooooo much better! And you know what, even my stress over the stress it was all causing him had perhaps been blown up in my own head - he seemed fine and pretty relaxed about things really.
I'm incredibly grateful that Lorne is such an amazing husband and a truly wonderful life partner. On Sunday morning, while I lay snivveling on the bed feeling horribly torn and guilty, he would have been perfectly within his rights to say, "Well you wanted this", but he didn't. But then I suppose he couldn't have made me feel any worse than the selfish, stupid and crazy (irrational?) monster that I already thought myself to be. But he's so great in sooo many ways, not just about this. A large part of why I felt so awful and selfish was the realization of just how much he's been going through this past year as well as me and yet, through it all, he's always been right there for me offering his support in so many ways, I'm not even sure he knows just how much he amazes me. Every day!
Anyhoooo, I had given myself a thorough enough beating (mentally & emotionally) those couple of days that, by Monday evening, the storm finally began to pass - oh and I got my period. Hmmm, do you think PMS could have had anything to do with it too???
With the calm once again reigning down after my internal tornado, I'm delighted to say that Mudd is settling in just fine, all things considered. Furthermore we've decided to call her Ella - which was initially Vicky's suggestion, in sticking with the jazz theme we used for the boys, Mel (Torme) and Louis (Prima). I hope we'll all live together happily ever after!
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| Mudd/Ella already comfortable enough within the first week to sit right in-between Louis (left) and Mel (who's looking at her adoringly). |
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