Recently, I became a mother. No, not to a human being, but rather to a cat. I had gotten to the point where spending my weekends alone in my apartment talking to the walls was becoming demeaning, utterly unbearable, so I decided to adopt a cat. For the entirety of my life, I have had cats, so I had an idea what I was in for when I sign the papers and she became mine. What I didn’t know was how quickly I would find myself acting as a mother to an infant. What most people don’t tell you about being a fur mom is that, although having an animal is a bit less responsibility than being a ‘real’ mother, is that it’s a lot of work. Not only is it a lot of work, but you create a bond that you couldn’t imagine possible. I think that’s the part that surprised me the most; I had spent my whole life with cats, yet the bond between my very own is stronger than any bond that I’ve had before.

I had gone to my hometown shelter knowing that I was going to come home with a cat, come hell or high water. As I entered, I was greeted with kittens, dogs, and an older cat that really just wanted all the affection he could get. I wasn’t really attracted to any of these adorable fuzz-balls. They were cute and all, but they weren’t “the one”. So I collected myself and moved on to the cat room. Literally it was a room full of cats. Every woman’s dream. As soon as I stepped foot in the room, I noticed there was a family of pure-bred Persians who had been surrendered by their previous owners. I immediately knew that I was coming home with a Persian. So I sat with the family of Persians and waited until I found the one that would become my partner in crime. As I was sitting there, my mom pointed out a Persian whose tongue was sticking out. We both laughed hysterically because she was the most ridiculous looking cat we had ever seen, but when I was done laughing I took her in my arms and fell in love. I am not the proud owner of a Persian cat that constantly sticks her tongue out at you.

Since I adopted her a month ago, I have discovered that she was malnourished, toothless, had a double ear infection, needed to be buzz cut because no one had taken the time to brush her coat out properly, and older than we had thought. She was not loved, nor was she cherished in a way that any decent human would cherish their pet. In the past month, I have spent my free time going to the vet, the groomer, chasing her down to wash her face because her eyes crust together, feeding her so that she gets back to a healthy weight, brushing her, talking to her, and most of all, loving her. I spend my days telling her that she really shouldn’t do this, and doing that isn’t exactly the best idea either, and trying to get her to understand that I’m never ever going to hurt her. A month ago, my life changed more drastically than I had ever thought. A month ago, I became a cat Mom, and I would change a thing.