Tuesday, October 30

Memoir of a Cat Part 2


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"It was the first night, and Sparta was still nervous and aloof. He missed his companion and his home. He had not yet grown accustomed to my roommates who immediately pounced on him because of his cute face and soft coat. It was the dead of night, but my sub consciousness had been waiting for a sound like the ear-splitting crash that suddenly erupted. Still immersed in darkness, I knew it could mean only one thing: Sparta had knocked over the unstable shelving unit that held my entire collection of snow globes. I flicked on the lights and found glitter, glass, and water all over the ugly carpet of my room. Sparta stood flat against the opposite wall looking scared and not in the least bit sorry. The thought dawned on me that I was in over my head and had never truly been a pet owner before. Was it always going to be like this? With tears in my eyes, my heart ached to have Piddy Paws there and not the Destroyer of Snow Globes as I picked up the large pieces of glass and soaked up the water. Vacuuming the glitter waited until morning.
The dead snow globes
            The next morning, I nearly started packing up Sparta’s belongings to drive him back to my mother’s house. It was not going to work out, I could see that now. He was too rambunctious, and I was feeling guilty for taking him away from his home in the first place. Yet, something stopped me as I watched him sleeping in my beanbag chair. Looking back, if I had taken him home, it would have been the worse decision I would have made.
            Due to the curiosity in his friend’s roommate’s cat, I met my boyfriend Stuart, who increasingly came over to our apartment to play with Sparta. We fell for each other and started dating, thanks to Sparta. Then three months later, Stuart graduated from Western Carolina University and moved to his hometown of Raleigh. We began a painful, lonely one-year long distance relationship. My constant companion and bright star through the entire year was Sparta. He kept me entertained, forced me to get out of bed in the morning, and gave me a living thing to hold at night. Even he knew what it meant when Stuart left, patrolling the apartment and meowing loudly as if looking for him.
Sparta fell in love with Stuart!
            During that time, I also hurt Sparta deeply. In desperation to constantly see Stuart, I often traveled to Raleigh, a five-hour trip from Cullowhee. Because of my few friends and scatter-brained roommates who would most likely kill a fish in a day, I usually dragged Sparta with me. For five hours, Sparta whined and cried down I-40 or settled in my lap between my stomach and the steering wheel wondering when he would never set his foot down on solid ground again. Two nights later, we made the same trip back to Cullowhee with me sobbing at least half an hour of the way after saying good bye to Stuart with Sparta’s pitiful whines in the background.

             After a semester of that, I transferred to UNC-Greensboro to be closer to Stuart. Sparta moved into my new home where there was another male cat and a Labrador retriever. The male cat, Mac, refused to let Sparta out his grasp. Constantly, Mac mounted Sparta and pinned him by biting his neck in his small jaws. It took only a week or two for me to break down in tears over the stress and misery Sparta experienced. I handed him over to Stuart one hour away in Raleigh, heartbroken, promising to bring him back after Mac was neutered. Even then, Mac still abused and tormented my cat. For the rest of the semester, Stuart cared for Sparta, and I spiraled into a deep and deadly bout of depression as I pined away for the cat that had never meant much to me back when Piddy Paws and I were growing up together. Now, I committed so many fouls against my beautiful pet whose personality had started to alter because of the stress of it all."
To be continued...

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