I got a cat, it’s our first one. Seems innocuous enough on the surface. The thing is, Grant hated animals. Maybe I shouldn’t use the word hate. I don’t want to misrepresent. It felt extreme like that with him though. We’ve never had animals in our little family and with 4 boys you’d think a dog would be a given, even ideal. Not with Grant. He was adamantly against any animals, it was never even a discussion. It was a don’t-even-bring-up-the-issue. 

Despite this, while he was around, I got baby chickens that would live outside in a cage. I didn’t discuss it, nor make it a mutual decision, boy did I cause trouble. I didn’t think it would be a big deal since they’d live outside.

We had a coop already because we’d had them before, but apparently, I didn’t take good enough care of the ones previously. It was one of the few fights we had in our marriage. Chickens.

We were able to work it out. With a lot of promises to Grant and convincing him that we were able to responsibly keep the chickens, he consented. They produce eggs and eat our kitchen scraps so they are multi-purpose. This is a term and quality Grant can’t resist. Go watch his videos see how many times he says multi-purpose, or implies it. It’s ingrained in him.

Cats, dogs, mice, birds, etc. are not multi-purpose in his mind. They are dirty, smelly, extra responsibility, inconvenient and all those things that make it inconceivable to him that he’d ever allow an animal in our home.

Since he didn’t grow up with animals, he’d never had created a bond. It wasn’t just his deep-rooted feeling about animals, we’d renovated houses before all our kids. We did this for years. There are what are referred to in real estate as the ‘cat houses’, you know that one, where people have animals that they don’t take care of. This also affected Grant. The stench is overwhelming when you walk into such a house. One we bought, they had had a whole room that was the litter box and doggie doo doo room. It was never cleaned. That kind of neglect is disturbing to a rehabber, add to that, paying for all the damage it causes.

Me? I didn’t grow up with animals, so I also wasn’t used to them, nor the responsibility of them. We had a cat when I was 12, mostly to be a mouser. She deeply scratched my finger, which drew blood. I was not enchanted with bonding after that. Now, we had human babies to take care of. I didn’t want more responsibility, so animals were never an issue for us. We both agreed that animals didn’t have a place in our little family.

In the back of my mind though, I thought, maybe one day when the kids were a little older and could help. I know there are the emotional benefits of an animal and that it would be so good for them. Heaven knows they needed emotional support now.

Now my babies, for whom I have full responsibility, they have a big empty hole in their little hearts. It can’t be fixed or filled completely no matter what it is being filled by. An animal could help give them more to love though. I’m emotionally vested in giving them an opportunity to fill that space where dad was, even in some small way, ironically with an animal in the house.

Our 2nd boy wanted a cat for his 9th birthday. An all-black one. He’s been asking for a cat for his birthday for about 3 years, but had no luck with dad around. This is the first birthday without his dad. This year, I said yes. Without any argument, just the quiet of no one to disagree, I got a pure black cat with bright green eyes. The power and the pain of making my own decisions.

The boys love him. They coo over him, cuddle him, get proud that he loves them when he purrs in their lap. He’s certainly not even close to a replacement, but he is definitely something to give their love to. He’s been a healing animal for us. He even loves me most. He’s always wanting to cuddle up to me. When he does he licks his little paws and it sounds like a baby sucking. It makes my heart happy.

Ahhh… that feels good to have my heart happy, a foreign feeling these days. I got the cat for the boys, like everything else I do. I didn’t know he’d help my heart too.  I look up to the heavens and with a sassy tone I ask, “How do you like our cat, Grant?”  I feel a smile come back, “He’s fine.  I’m glad you're happy.”