Pieces of Peace

I am at peace with a kitten sleeping on my belly, and I think that may be the answer to all the problems I conjure up in my own head. By which I mean that I might be discovering a pattern – I was happiest and most joyful when I was taking care of Mano back in August and September. December and January have been fairly challenging up here in my mental and even physical space; I’ve been doing some hefty cognitive labour in just trying to figure out what to do next or about my relationships or how to make sense of my place in my life on this uncharted and unlived-before journey, and it’s been tiring. But here I am with a relaxed kitten on my lap and I am very much at peace.

This kitten has a dark grey coat and the most beautiful face, with a symmetrical white marking on his forehead that looks like an ‘M’. For this reason his name is Emmett (for now, knowing how susceptible we are to changing our stance on names). I picked him up after hearing him meowing in our driveway; he was practically hidden from anyone’s view if I hadn’t seen a little black kitten shaped movement in the corner of my eye in the guard room. I picked him up immediately and brought him upstairs. He was terrified, didn’t eat, cried through the evening and did not play.

But very soon he started to eat. I’m so grateful we had kitten formula at home. He was cold too, and shivering, and so we bundled him up. The first night was difficult; I woke up every hour from 3 AM to 8 AM to feed him and tend to his cries for his mother. Then I slept throughout the morning after asking mama to keep an eye on him for the next few hours.

The second night was better, he had eaten solid food and had a fuller belly, only waking me up once at 5 AM after which I scooped him up and made him sleep with me. At around 8, I felt a wetness near my leg. I had to wash my sheets.

Last night was similar, with me waking up at around 5 AM to a hungry and confused kitten. I scooped him up again and kept him quite literally under my armpit. He’s such a peaceful sleep companion. I could only hope he wouldn’t pee again – he didn’t. He knows where his litter is now.

Today, he’s been playing all morning long and has finally tired his tiny self out. He’s probably about 5 weeks old. Here’s hoping someone falls in love with him soon so that I can bring Mogli back into my room. She’s super suspicious lately and I miss her presence at night too, honestly.

But anyway… Today’s thought to carry forward is that peace = happy kitten.

As I wrote this post

Mano gets adopted

Today is the day I give Mano away. Mano is the kitten I took under my mommy wing almost two months ago, in the first week that we moved into our new house. We went through many names over the past month and a half, from Simba to Peachfuzz to Keeto to Satsuki to Noni to Mano, which finally stuck. But she will be named something else when she moves into her new home.

I’m feeling the feelings today. I’m sat on my bed writing this with teary eyes as she naps on the cushion behind my pillow, as she has been doing lately.

Two days ago I took Mano over to her potential adoptive home for a playdate, and of course they loved her. Part of me knew that I would be bringing her back home that day as her new family prepared their home for her with food and litter and nice things to eat from and play with, and so I hadn’t felt the full emotions of letting her go that day. Today I am feeling them, because today it is final, and because this is the first time in my life that I am doing this.

The other kittens we have taken in have never met the fate of being adopted by someone else. They were either adopted by us and are now living in our house (Minny and Mogli), or they passed away too soon. It’s been a sad year as far as that goes; I took in kittens with the full intention of giving them away to loving homes, but they died before that became possible. I may have mentioned earlier that I was scared when I took Mano in; I didn’t want to feel that loss again. But I am feeling loss in a very different way today. I think that it’s not just knowledge of the loss of my kitten, who I feel I have raised from absolute babyhood to big kittenhood, which is such a big fat deal for me and I really am proud of myself, but also the loss of this time. This time that I have had a kitten to greet me as soon as I walk into my bedroom, this time that I understood what it meant to be joyous upon the sight of a solid poop, seeing the positive effects of antibiotics on an infection, of waking up in the middle of the night to see a tiny kitten silhouette playing with her tail inside my blanket, all these everyday experiences that have marked this transition period of our lives. And so I suppose the emotion is a little more complex; I anticipate the loss of a little friend and the loss of a certain time that I will remember so fondly, not just because of her alone but of the circumstances of this month; a joyous wedding, a new friend (this one being in human form), feeling connected to my family, and having so many feline companions everywhere I went. I miss it already.

There are other things in store though. This week, I sold my first ever painting, and then my second the very next day. I am painting more than I ever have with intention and with the kind of feedback I think I may have been building up towards; actual SALES! Just someone wanting to potentially buy something I have made and not even following through has been enough to give me joy.

So I’ll be okay, I’ve got stuff to do. But I do feel like I’m giving my baby away. Despite this, I know this is a success story. I’m not a failed kitten mommy. I did my best and it worked, and for all of these things I have sad, bittersweet, happy, fulfilled tears.