Anya, the spaghetti belly, full of potatoes. My gray girl🤍🤍🤍
So Roxy has always been entirely comfortable with me, like, literally the first night we brought her home she sat with me more than anyone else, on day one she chose me and that’s how it’s always been. This photo is her wrapping her paws around my hand, pulling my hand in tight, letting me know she wants aggressive face rubs. Cause, that’s the other thing about Roxy and i, we’ve always understood the other. Very rarely have we had points in time where either of us hasn’t known what the other needs or wants, we just understand each other so well. Like, i think back to that time where her face was swollen and full of pus, i sat there squeezing puss and blood out of her face, and it musta hurt, but she sat there purring with her eyes closed (i know purring isn’t always good) and just let me do it, no fighting, it was only when more blood than pus came out did she finally meow to let me know that was enough, like, it musta hurt but she knew i was helping, and i know she knows that
But then she does this XD Sometimes, like here, she will just sit there and stares at me, and it lasts for ages, and i cannot figure out why. I know it isn’t fear or insecurity, i know she isn’t scared of me, i know things are okay, yet i cannot tell you why she does that XD
to start, here’s my kitten October, with her brother Shadow literally hanging out in her Shadow.
this picture was taken yesterday, so they are 2 weeks old here!
[Id: two kittens present, one laying on a blue heating pad, the other a short distance behind, both are laying down, the front kitten does not have her front paws tucked in. end desc]
I adopted my cat 2 ½ years ago.
I was depressed and suffering from suicidal thoughts. My therapist wrote a note to my landlord telling him I needed an emotional support pet.
Less than a week after discussing it with / getting approval from my landlord, my mom had a stroke. The first of what would be over a half dozen in less than a year.
I went to the hospital with my sister to visit her, but afterwards neither of us were in a good place to go home. We stopped at PetSmart to distract ourselves, so I could buy a litterbox, scratching post, etc.
I also said hi to their resident cats from the SPCA. I asked to meet a couple. I thought I wanted an older or all black cat since they’re the hardest to find homes for. But I didn’t connect to the Black cat or the two seniors that were there. But my sister pointed out the scrawny, 1 yo tortoiseshell who had been watching us quietly and intently. When her kennel opened, she immediately began rubbing on us, with inaudible purrs vibrating through her.
She had been a stray, caught by the tnr program, but they decided to put her up for adoption, rather than release after her spay, because she was malnourished, and the rescue didn’t think she could take care of herself.
I took her home a week and a half later and changed her name from French Fries to Artemis.
She was an odd cat. She would be immediately there when I was having a bad depressive episode or panic attack, rubbing against me and making sure I knew she was there, but otherwise watched me skittishly from the other side of the room. She barely let me pet her, sprinted away when I moved to fast, and hid from guests.
For nearly the first 2 years, she never kneaded blankets, purred loud enough to be heard, or meowed outside of very soft trills.
But now these are daily activities! She audibly purrs every night as she falls asleep on my feet! Every fluffy blanket left unattended is kneaded and napped on! She screams at me to make her dinner every night at 6:00.
I just started crying, watching her knead a blanket at the foot of my bed while she purred loud enough for me to hear it.
She’s in a much better place than she was when I brought her home and so am I. I’m so proud of her for how much she’s grown and how much she’s allowed me to grow.