The Trash Cat Who Trashes the Place

Moving to college wasn't an easy process for me. I suffer from a severe social phobia and have trouble connecting with peers. They only thing that's keeps me going at home is my beloved senior cat, Seal, who has been with me for over twelve years providing me with emotional support. When I moved four hours away, it effectively cut that tie and left me feeling totally lost. I started to relapse in my mental health and was seriously considering returning home as I couldn't imagine going any longer without a furry friend to keep me company.

One day as I was standing in line waiting for the dining hall to open, an acquaintance from class asked me if I had seen the kittens on campus. I immediately perked up and started asking questions. The kittens were located under a shed behind my residence hall, near the dumpsters. I went to check after dinner and sure enough, three little black kittens were poking their heads out from under the shed.

I immediately went into full mother mode. I went to a local Walmart to purchase kitten food with all the money I had. Every day after dinner I would put out two paper plates, one with dry food and one with water. For the first few feedings they wouldn't let me near them at all and would retreat as soon as I moved or spoke, but over time, they started to warm up to me. Two of them had already been named, Inky and Midnight, but no one seemed to know about the third one. So I named her Slendy, in reference to the horror video game character Slenderman, because of her long legs and mischievous personality. Her outgoing and playful nature made her a quick favorite of everyone, including me.

Slendy took to life as a pet cat almost immediately, greeting me with happy meows, sitting in my lap, and allowing me to hold her. I had to hold her back while the others ate because she had a tendency to push her much more scared siblings out of the way. I started calling her a "little pig" because of her food-hogging behavior. Eventually, this led to her permanent name becoming "Piggy", much to the chagrin of my mother, who called it a "horrible name". It did avoid the awkwardness of people thinking her name was "Sundae", which I appreciated.

Caring for the kittens became basically my whole life, and they were mostly safe and happy under their shed. However, as Halloween approached, I started to worry about their safety. Black cats are often the target of abuse around Halloween because of superstition, as well as people adopting them for a "witchy" aesthetic and quickly abandoning them when they realize how much work actually goes into owning a cat. I put up a sign on their shed asking people to please find them homes quickly as my parents weren't willing to take the 8-hour round trip to come care for cats they didn't really want in the first place. A guy named Adam contacted me not only willing to adopt Inky, but also house Piggy and Midnight until I could take them home. Unfortunately, we were unable to capture Midnight and she disappeared, likely scared away by all the commotion and the loss of her siblings. I was devastated that I wasn't able to save all three of them, but relieved that Piggy and Inky were safe.

At Thanksgiving we said our good byes to Inky and thanked Adam for caring for both of them, and we took Piggy on her four-hour journey home. My original goal was to move her in as my emotional support animal when I returned to school, but my school was firm on their policy that I had to wait until the next semester started to bring her in. So after Thanksgiving I had to say good bye to her and wait another anxious month to get her. When I brought her into my dorm for the first time after Christmas it felt like everything had finally fallen into place.

Unfortunately, we had one more hurdle to get over. At the end of January of 2020, I contracted COVID-19. It was a very mild case, I was only sick for a few days. But I was left with quickly dwindling energy. I spent most of my time in my dorm sleeping, which at the time I thought was just a result of my depression, and Piggy often went a few days having no one to play with but herself. She was extremely energetic and I started to consider passing her on to someone who could spend more time with her. I pushed through despite being stressed about her well-being and returned home to my parent's house for spring break, which ended up lasting until the end of the year because of COVID.

I had to drop out of college because of my new illness, which was eventually diagnosed as chronic fatigue syndrome, with COVID as the likely cause. I fell into one of the deepest depressions of my life. There were no treatments and no cures for what I was experiencing and it was likely I would never go back to college, as my fatigue affected my mental abilities as well. I discussed with my parents the possibility that I would have to give up Piggy and they encouraged me to hold out for just a little longer. She was badly behaved and I was stressed out not having the energy to train her, but she was still only a kitten and I knew she would calm down with age.

And sure enough, as she grew, she became less of a terror. She still tears around the house at lightning speed, chomps on our hands, and stands on our dining room table when she wants something, but she also sleeps peacefully next to me on the couch. She helps me stay active by caring for her, even on days when I just want to curl up and do nothing. Even though we had possibly the roughest start we could have, I'm glad I decided to keep her around.