Bit By Bit - Change Happens

I grew up with house cats for pets. I didn’t especially love them, partially because they weren’t very lovey or snuggly - and partially because all I ever wanted was a dog. My parents wouldn’t let me have a dog, so the first thing I did when I bought my first house, was buy myself a teeny tiny, wiggly chocolate lab puppy. She was born to two very large AKC Chocolate Labs on September 10th, 2005. If you’re doing your math right, that means that teeny tiny, wiggly Chocolate Lab was born 14 years ago this week. Her AKC name is Molly Brown Truffles, but I call her Molly Brown, or Molly B for short. I wrote a post on Instagram for her birthday to explain all that she means to me, but just to reiterate, this dog has been with me through everything that has happened in my life the last 14 years- and I will be forever grateful for her companionship and constant love.

Four years ago, my ex and I rescued a tiny kitten off of the mean streets of Rockland Maine. And by rescued, I mean that he brought a kitten home that I told him we couldn’t keep. And as the days went on, and he didn’t take the kitten to the shelter as I asked, it became clear that the kitten was there to stay.. and that kitten loved me. His name became Tillie, after the grinning figure who adorned the side of the Asbury Park Amusements building in Asbury Park New Jersey, and I was now financially, mentally and emotionally responsible for him too. 

I’ve never had children of my own, but I have had to take care of two animals who were solely dependent on me to feed them, love them, take care of them and protect them. There are many people who will tell you that having pets is not the same as having children... but I would walk through fire for my animals. My need to protect them is no different than that of a parent, I don’t care what anyone says. 

Molly and Tillie are the only beings in this world who know what I went through in that past relationship. My dog would shake in fear when my ex would yell at me and throw things. Sounds dramatic, right? She would visibly shake.. and I would scream and cry for him to stop because he was scaring the dog. The cat would hide under the bed. One night, after an especially bad fight, I let Molly outside to go pee, and she took off. She turned herself in at the police station, and had herself a good nights sleep at the shelter while I laid in bed wondering how much longer I could continue to not only endure this abuse myself... but for how much longer I could put Molly and Tillie through the constant destruction and chaos. 

A month later, when I finally asked him to leave, and told him I didn’t want to be with him anymore, he had the gaul to ask me if he could take the cat. I told him absolutely not. I was the one buying him food, and cat litter and loving him when he was scared .. and there was no way in hell that monster was taking that cat. So Tillie stayed with me. 

When I moved in with my current boyfriend, he graciously allowed me to bring the cat, even though he is allergic. We had hoped that his allergy to the cat would be lessened by the amount of space we have in his house, vs. my teeny tiny apartment. We hoped that keeping the cat out of the bedroom would mean that he wouldn’t suffer from the sneezing and watery eyes. But the truth is- none of those things helped... and we really tried. 

So for months, I’ve been trying to find someone to adopt my cat. And today was the day that we found him a home. My boyfriends niece is a cat person.. who was looking for another cat, and she came and picked him up tonight. I sit here, as I write this, sobbing. All I have ever wanted for the cat and the dog is to live out their days, stress free... and they can both do that, now. Grateful doesn’t begin to explain how I feel... but I am going to miss that little smooshball.. luckily he’s just moved right down the road, and I’ve been promised visits whenever I want.