There are two announcements at the bottom of the page. And apologies – the formatting is off because WordPress is being more difficult than usual today.
I‘m Taking a Break
Those of you who have been following me know that I have days when my blood pressure is so low that I can’t accomplish anything. Things pile up, and then I get totally overwhelmed. Self-care gets more and more time-consuming, and I feel stretched very, very thin.
I decided I needed to replenish my store of energy. So I arranged for friends to visit and cleared out my schedule except for medical appointments and really important online commitments.
From May 17 to May 25, I will be off playing, doing all the wonderful things I don’t normally have time for. Assuming, of course, that my blood pressure remains above 80/60.
There will be no blog post on May 20, and perhaps not even one on May 30. (Yes – I know this one is late – that’s a function of being overwhelmed, thanks to a run of low blood pressure days.)
Overwhelmed or not, I have been working behind the scenes on the new blog. If I steal some material from it, I won’t have to write a whole new post today. The new blog is about ritual abuse, of course, but there is also an entire page devoted to my cats. It’s called, of all things –
My Life with Cats
The year before my amnesia lifted and my memories came, I bought two Cornish Rex kittens from the same litter, a girl, Rosie, and a boy, Fargo. They were named after Rosebud, South Dakota and Fargo, North Dakota. That was because their father’s name was Demon Dakota. (Oops, I promised I would say nothing about RA/MC. I just can’t help myself. It’s such an integral part of my life.) Their mother’s name was Sweet Purrfection, yuck. They were orange cats with white markings.
They lived a long time. Rosie was sixteen when she died, and Fargo lived another year and a half. I thought I would never get another cat because no cat would be as great as they were. Surely a kitten would outlive me, and it wasn’t fair to go and abandon him like that. So there was lots of crying – “I’ll never sleep with a cat again!”
After a couple of years, I changed my mind, got another orange and white Cornish Rex kitten, and named him Dakota. He lived to be eighteen and a half. Obviously, I was wrong about dying before him and leaving him all alone in a cold world.
A black Cornish Rex kitten named Bobcat joined us when Dakota was six or seven and stayed a few years. I had to separate the two because Bobcat was bullying Dakota and made his life miserable. I found him an ideal home with two adoring people and an adoring one-eyed, toothless Italian greyhound, and he has been very happy there. It was best for all involved, but still heartbreaking.
I lost Dakota last September, and, to my surprise, I was not nearly as hesitant about getting another cat. I have no idea why. Am I braver? More impetuous? More selfish? Am I betting on being immortal? Who cares? This is the way it is – I want a cat.
I realize I no longer have the energy to chase after a kitten. Fostering was a possibility, but I wouldn’t be good with a cat with behavior problems, and I would be heartbroken about having to give up an animal I had grown attached to. The other option was adopting a grown cat, perhaps an elderly one. The two of us could keep each other company as we limped through our golden years.
For months, I knew I wasn’t ready because I kept expecting Dakota to be in the next room. (That’s called seeing a ghost cat.) As Dakota gradually stopped visiting me in his new form, I began checking out AdoptaPet.com and local animal rescue organizations. My friends started asking me if I had found a cat I liked. I liked some well enough, but the chemistry wasn’t there.
I had a few non-negotiable demands. It must be older, short-haired, and affectionate, and it can’t be orange. I don’t need an echo of Rosie, Fargo, and Dakota. I prefer an open adoption so that the previous owner can check that their cat is okay in my home and can even visit him if they want. I can ask a million questions and send cute pictures.
The SPCA website beckoned. I hadn’t intended to go there because their process of giving up a cat and adopting one is detailed to the max, and, frankly, I found some of their questions intrusive, even insulting.
One night I was in the mood to window-shop and went to their site to look at the photos of available cats. Lo and behold, the SPCA has gotten far more reasonable! They now have a section called “Animals in the Community,” which lists cats available for private “rehoming.”
It turns out that some non-negotiable things are negotiable after all.
That’s all for now, folks. There are two more cats to come, Baker and Spencer.
Reminder: Survivorship’s 2023 Online Conferences Are Almost Here
Clinician’s Conference – Friday, May 19
Survivor Conference – Saturday and Sunday, May 20 – 21
“Sound of Freedom” Trailer
A survivor wrote me,
“This is a movie about child sex trafficking that will be in the theaters July 4.
“This is the trailer. At the end of it the link is given where you can buy tickets…for yourself and for someone else who might not otherwise go, see, or learn about this horror.
They also give free tickets to those who can’t afford it.
Let’s try and fill the theaters with people who need to hear/know about this. Pass this on!