Pets and Peace

Carmel, the Comfort Cat

For anyone who has a pet, we know the joy and comfort our pets provide us in our every day lives.

Research reveals that the power of a pet can reward us with a sense of peace throughout the time we have them living in our homes.   An artical by NPR gives a broad range of ways that hosting a pet (I’m not fond of the term “owning” a pet)

I wrote briefly about my cat, Carmel a few posts back in “Comfort Chimes.”

When I finally made my decision to end a long-term, ever on-going abusive relationship, I was unfortunately NOT left alone or abandoned.   That would have made my life more manageable.  Instead I endured an extended level of absurd events through LOCKS, LIES and LAWYERS.   The end of April 2011, I filed a PFA, but since “AA” (abusive adulterer) didn’t beat me, stab me, throw me down the no-railing attic staircase, the lady at the courthouse just typed in my account of events and handed me information for the DV center in the city.  You wouldn’t want to see all the scars from the mental/emotional wounds — they’re really ugly.

I can cover that in another blog — so back to Carmel . . . sorry, some of the scabs from my emotional wounds aren’t healed, yet.

“Your mother-in-law” as she was referred to in 3rd person, died Nov 2007.  In 2007, my furry friend Leo was showing signs of sickness for a year, but the “AAA” (abusive assaulting adversary) wouldn’t take him to the Vet. He just purchased over-the-internet meds to shove down the Talented Tabby’s throat.   When that didn’t work, no surprise, the 14 year old companion was driven to a vet for the first time in 14 years.  I called an employee to cover the coffeeshop and prepared for the appoinment with spouse (?) and veterinarian.  Leo, artist model, took his last breath in my arms!  That was 2008.

Oct 2009 — my kind, thoughtful, generous father died unexpectedly in the hospital.  Though I rushed to the hospital every time “your mother-in-law” was hospitalized, not ONCE did the conX visit my mother while hospitalized in mid 2007 and not ONCE while my dear dad was housed in a hospital.   Nope, he just showed up for any holiday where he could get hospitality and cash or check in his pocket.   2010 — off the charts E, M, S abuse including the unbelieveable “get a job” remark.  Those that know me understood I was working about 6 “jobs.”  2011 — psychotic episodes, cruel comments about my father, family and me — all  to bash down my spirits during a vulnerable time — for his premeditated hostile takeover of my home, businesses.

It was the beginning of May when I decided I NEEDED a new companion — one that would’t bark at me or potentially bite me.

 

Carmel was a scaredy cat when I brought him “home” in a box and was released into the basement pottery studio.   He needed a place to hide.  I needed a place to hide.  There were enough boxes and cubby holes for him to hide.  There were NOT enough doors with locks for me to be safe, but he was my new buddy, the comfort cat — his designated role in our new life together.   We had plans:  a cat cave, cat cove — but our “castle” was overtaken by Bully Boys.

People oddly voiced more concern about my 3 year-old cat being locked out of access to his litter box than about my 82 year old mother being locked out of a household bathroom.   “That’s animal cruelty”, a student showed concern.   I had to haul and install a portopot for my mother, and no one said “That’s elder abuse.”   Not customers, employees, lawyers, police.  Carmel had to be shoved and swooshed out in a tiny bag for his safety.

Now that we are 100 miles away from any direct impact, Carmel and I are learning to trust — all over again.   Carmel has such an incredible purr, a gentle touch of paw.   His eyes do not show anger or evil.   He waits for me longingly at the back door to enter.   He follows me from room to room.  He rests for hours in my father’s chair in the dining room.  We play, we sleep, we comfort each other.

I’m not sure, but he may be a soul from my past — I’m thinking perhaps it’s that of Curtis whose life was shortened at 28 from a car accident.  Whatever the reason Carmel (original name Amarillo)  out of all the tabby cats at the humane society came home with me, he has been an amazing comfort for my mom and me.

Carmel the Comfort Cat has an important place in my life.

If any of my blogger fans have some stories or photos to share of your comfort critter, send them my way.

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