Letter of Apology to my Cat

Dear Guinness,

I must apologize to you. I saw that look of terror on your face tonight, and I know you’re traumatized right now. After almost 14 years together, I know you all too well.

Yes, the loveseat has been moved into the other room, and yes I stored my clothes on that loveseat for the past 10 months, but it’s okay. We are not moving again. I know you assumed differently. Savoy, my boyfriend, simply moved the loveseat into the other room so that he can move a dresser in here for my clothes. Don’t worry! All is well.

It’s my fault that you’re freaked out. I totally get it. You’ve been through so much. I remember when I brought you home from my good friend Floyd Salas’ reading of his book, “ Love Bites — in Celebration of Dogs and Cats.” I was told you were the only one of six kittens who hadn’t adopted, and a lady plopped you on my lap. You were six months old then, and I knew you were mine. When I brought you home and let you out of the makeshift carrier, you practically bounced off the walls. Megan, who was only 13 then, and we watched you bounce back and forth and then beelined right for the Christmas tree. That was December 2006. You fit right in, and instantly became a member of our family.

You didn’t mind when we brought Sydney Girl, the little white dog, to you back in 2008. In fact, you liked Sydney. She was the only dog you liked, and you would follow us whenever we walked her, just as if we were walking you too.

We moved countless times in the past 14 years. Every time we’d move, you’d hide and we had to make a special trip after we moved back to the old place where you’d always be waiting. Sometimes you were stubborn and didn’t want to go into the carrier as you stubbornly clung to the bit of world you had dubbed yours. I apologize for that.

I know those changes were hard, and I forgive you for peeing on my bed that one time right after we moved into the house on the hill. Then we moved again to the mobile home. That’s where you got to know Baby J, the grandson, and you’d follow us when Baby J walked Sydney as well. You also tolerated Baby J because he was always good to you, even when he was little. You’d even sit with him on my bed when I let him play with my colorful ukulele.

In 2016, I moved to Oregon and left you with Megan and roommates at the mobile home in California. I didn’t have a place for you when I moved up there, and I figured you’d be happiest if you got to stay in your same world. I had moved you so many times. I had no idea you’d be mad at me for moving away, and I am deeply sorry for that. I wanted to take you with me back to Oregon, but I still needed to set up a place for you, and that was when you got attacked and hurt badly. Just the week before that happened, I was hugging you and I wanted to take you so badly then. I had spent lots of time with you in California. I told you I’d come and get you in 10 days after I moved in. I think you understood.

I will never forget that trip I made to California to rescue you, not sure if you were even dead or alive at the emergency animal clinic. I was so relieved that you pulled through, though it took months for you to heal. I rescued you from the nice veterinarians who saved you and drove you to Oregon. Another move, yes I know. Then I made you stay inside for over a year so you could heal from all your injuries. You were so traumatized by what had happened to you, you would hide every time someone came over.

Then I brought Sydney Girl up from California, and you were so happy to see her. You became sociable again, the two of you together once more. Then one day, I had to take Sydney away. You knew she was sick, and you may have known she had cancer. You found her that one night hiding in the closet. And we both weren’t the same when I didn’t bring Sydney back.

I know you freaked out when I moved from Lincoln City to Eugene even though I swore I’d never move again. You hid in the back of a cabinet and delayed the move by three hours. I get it though, and I understand. Once I finally coaxed you out and you saw that carrier, for once you didn’t try to run away. You knew you were coming along.

But now you are here with me and Savoy, and we both love you very much. You get to hang out in the yard or inside, or outside, or inside. I promise you I’m not moving anywhere, not without you.

Love,

Your Mom