The Strongest Bond

What I have with my pets is a bond that goes beyond words. My car drives down the road near my house and my cat senses I’m nearby. She sits at the top of the stairs and waits for me to walk through the door. And the moment I do, I’m ambushed by seven pounds of unconditional love.

She sits outside the bathroom door and cries while I take a shower. One might think she is trying to protect me while I’m in a vulnerable state, but I know that she wants to come in because she hates to be alone. 

When I walk off the porch and into the backyard, she watches my every move. If I sit out on the deck, she stares at me through the window and cries because she wants me to come back and be with her. 

She stares up at me from the floor when I sit on the sofa and she won’t jump up until I nod my head. It doesn’t even matter if my sitting position looks difficult to balance on. My cat will find a way to sit on my lap.

Once she’s settled, she leans her head toward my hand until I pet her. Her purrs are as loud as a car motor. A simple steady rumble coming from her lets me know how calm and protected she feels with me.

I remember when she was just a kitten. I had to keep her in my room for the first couple of weeks before we could take her to the vet. The night I got her, I was lying in my bed with her close to me. She curled her paw around my finger, and I immediately felt like a mother to this animal. I even call her my daughter.

She’s there to comfort me as well. She can sense when I’m sick. When I was battling with a stomach bug, she laid down with me and kneaded my stomach. She was trying to make me feel better. 

She sits with me most of the time because she wants attention and she bites my phone whenever I don’t give her enough of it. She wants me to only focus on her when she’s on my lap. But if something else catches her attention, she’s free to catapult herself off me. Then she goes and chases the light that’s reflecting off the metal name tag on her collar.

She’s not always the most gentle creature. This is especially evident with how she treats my older cat. While she’s simply looking for a playmate, my older cat feels like his life is threatened whenever the youngest decides to pounce.

I don’t condone the behavior, so I hiss and growl until she runs away. Whenever this happens, my older cat gives me a look that expresses how grateful he is that I’m there to look out for him.

When I found out my older cat had cancer, I was heartbroken.

I made sure to dedicate some quality time with him. I’d invite him into my room in the middle of the night because at some point, I won’t be so fortunate enough to find him somewhere in the house.

I’d start bawling my eyes out whenever he sat on my bed with me. He knew how devastated I was. I would break down right in front of him and he would just rest his forehead on mine and rub his face on my cheek. 

He was trying to wipe away my tears.

My older cat is like a brother to me. I used to dress him up when I was a kid. I’d make him wear sunglasses or a cowboy hat. He was my little doll, and he didn’t mind. He never once tried to scratch or bite me when I would mess with him. 

That black-and-white ball of fur has been by my side since I was five. I don’t remember a life that didn’t have him in it and I can’t imagine one without him. It’s gotten to the point that whenever I see him sleeping on a chair in the living room, I have to go and check if he’s breathing. I’ll randomly make a loud noise to check if he’ll still perk his little head up.

I’ll do anything to make sure he’s still with me.

I feel so connected to these animals. My daughter and my brother. And while it sounds a bit unconventional, I wouldn’t have it any other way, because they love me for the person I am on the inside. 

It’s shocking how close I can be with someone I’ve never exchanged words with. I think that’s the beauty of our relationship.