My Cat

When Gracie and I moved out, she became really anxious. She had never been alone before. She had always had Sarge. The adorable and fun and cuddly boxer. 

 

And a seven year old Toby, who loved to play and cuddle with her. 

 

She had a backyard to dig in. (She loved to dig). And then we moved to this lovely new apartment. she got anxious. They say that's normal given the situation. We tried some herbal supplements. We tried some doggy Xanax (it's a thing). We tried the dog park. We tried taking her to doggy day care while I worked. We tried hiking and running and keeping her so worn out all she could do was sleep. And yet, when I would leave, she wouldn't eat. Left alone in her crate she would pant until her paws were saturated withsaliva. Eventually it was too much. Something had to be done. So I got her a cat. Enter Toothless. 

 

Adorable eight year old adoptee. Neutered, declawed, house trained, good with kids, good with dogs. FREE. He didn't much help with her anxiety, but he turned out to be the world's friendliest cat. Like legitimately. I have always been sort of indifferent to positive towards cats, but he is so cute and cuddly and sweet. And kids love him. And when I was in pain after surgery, he could totally tell and would make sure I wasn't alone. And then it turns out he's just a cute sleeper and he's just really grown on me. 

 

 

 So now I'm a cat lady and a dog mom. But you guys. I still have social skills and even though I wear sweats a lot because, I could blame surgery, but really just because, I still wear lipstick. And that has to count for something.