I had worked at a great job for 30 years, but then crashed soon after retirement in 2005. Symptoms included anxiety, becoming hyper-aware of time, and hating my body, which was—in turns--emaciated, then puffed up. For almost two years, I sat on my living room couch almost all day, medicated and depressed. I quit driving, quit cooking, had expensive caregivers, watched non-stop television, and essentially said “feed me, it’s easier.”
A return to health is multi-faceted, but mine included being honest with others and myself, saying, "I am going to drive; I am going to dance; I am going to cook; I am going to get a cat!" The caregivers left as friends and I went to a local Adoption Center to find a new animal friend. At first, I gravitated toward small dogs, but each time, something happened and I went away alone. Then, I got honest with myself again and went back to look for a cat. I had always had cats, so this was the "right thing" to do for myself. When I went into the Center, down a row with cats, Camilla was in an open cage with all the women petting her, that long gray fur, that Buddha-like countenance. Immediately, I put in an application. Several days later, I went in for the required interview and the rest is history.
So, tell me how you got your cat. What your cat means to you. I want to talk, not just post my words and read them!