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Cleo and Cricket

The Cats that Saved Me

By Jennie JeannePublished 3 years ago 5 min read
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Cleopatra

I was living in a place I didn’t want to be, but at the time I didn’t have a choice.

I was 16, and deeply depressed. My at home life, well let’s just say it wasn’t good because that is a WHOLE other story. The short version is my mother, brother and I moved into her fiancée’s house with his mother in a very tiny house and they had a very feral cat living there called Wilhelmina. She hated everything, wouldn’t let us near her and pretty much wanted to stay in the wall, so well left her alone.

One day were heard mewing and found she had had kittens. 2! She had had kittens before but they had all died, but there was a black kitten and a tabby striped kitten, happy and healthy.

My step dad wanted to put them outside, but my sister and I begged him to let us keep them. I wanted the black one, which my sister and I named Pandora, and she was going to keep the striped one we named Cleopatra. Luckily, he let us keep them, though we did not end up with the kittens we wanted.

Cleo chose me.

She followed me around, slept on my pillow, and perched on my shoulder as I did dishes or homework. She would sit in my shoe before I went to school so I would have to pick her up to say goodbye before I went to school. She refused to let Pandora near me, seeking all of my attention for herself, so though it wasn’t the plan, Cleo ended up being my kitten and I loved her that much more.

When I was home we did everything together and when I was at my lowest she was there for me. She kept me going when I didn’t want to and she made me smile when I was sad. I think some part of her knew that she was almost put outside to die and I had saved her so she wanted to return the favor.

When I moved out of the house I was happier and freer. Cleo was happier too and it felt like we could be happy the rest of our lives.

Then one day, Cleo wasn’t feeling well. She curled up on my bed and stayed there all day no matter what I was doing which was so unlike her. I wanted to bring her to the Vet, but my friend’s mother, who I lived with, told me it was probably just a hair ball and that we just needed to wait for it to pass.

Two days later and she was getting worse. She wouldn’t move, wouldn’t eat, and wouldn’t play. Finally I brought her to the Vet and they did some exploratory surgery. It turned out Cleo had eaten a string and it tied up her insides. She died on the table, there was nothing they could do.

I was devastated. That cat saved me from myself so many times and when she needed me, I had let her down. Of course I had listened to an adult, someone who should have known better than to tell me to wait, but I was so heart broken and guilty, it didn’t matter who was to blame.

Blaming myself or my friend’s mom wouldn’t bring Cleo back.

For months after I felt like a part of me was missing. I would wake up and look to see if she was sleeping on my pillow. I would wait for her to come running when I came home. I would feel her tiny paws on my shoulder when I did dishes and wish they were really there.

My friends were worried about me and 8 months later, they took me to Second Chance Animal Shelter.

I told them I wasn’t getting another cat, that Cleo was the last cat I was ever going to have. I didn’t want to replace her. They insisted I at least look, so I went into the rescue center and looked around.

Baby Cricket

There weren’t many cats there at the time, just a lot of dogs. I considered getting a dog instead because at least then I wouldn’t feel like I was replacing Cleo. While I was looking at the dogs, the woman working there came over and told me to sit down. When I did, she plunked two kittens in my lap. One of them ran away immediately but the other climbed up my arm and started chewing on my finger while making this cute little chirping noise.

I fell in love right then and there.

I took Cricket home with me and she has been my companion ever since.

It was almost like Cleo had been reincarnated into Cricket. She follows me around like Cleo did, perches on my shoulder, and plays like Cleo, but she also has a personality all her own. She flops over on her side so I can pet her belly when I came home. She loves beef jerky and will go to any lengths to get it when she knows it is in the house. She checks on me when I’m sad and makes sure I’m ok before going to bed.

I may have rescued Cricket, but she, like Cleo, saved me. It may be cliché, but it’s true. The “Who saved who?” saying is all too real.

I loved Cleo with all my heart. I had her for her short 3 years of life, but because of her and my friends who knew I needed a cat to love, I was able to save Cricket and give her a loving home. She has been with me for what will be 13 years on her birthday this year in April, and I couldn’t ask for a more loving fur-baby.

Cricket (CriCri)

cat
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About the Creator

Jennie Jeanne

A writer, a Poet, a mother, a friend; an artist

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