Like most cat parents, I love talking about my own cats. I want to introduce my two sweet dudes, Prozac and Poutine! Prozac is the focus for today so hopefully you’ll feel just as warm and fuzzy about my sweet boy as I do after hearing his story.
An Unexpected Addition
Prozac came into my life rather unexpectedly. I had just lost my precious Zoloft and was in a really bad place. I wanted to go pet some cats to comfort myself and saw this dude named Paul online on the Humane Society’s website. He looked so scared and sad. I felt a tug to go pet him and make sure he got some love as I figured we both could use some comforting.
My intention was to wait a bit to get another cat, though I knew I couldn’t go for too long without one. When I picked Zoloft’s ashes up, I felt this weird sense of feeling better now that he was with me again in some form. I decided to go visit all the places we had lived together as a way of coping and grieving on our way home from picking him up.
I also had this unexplainable urge to go visit Paul. I’m not sure what I believe happens after we or our cats die, but it felt somehow he was trying to tell me to go see this cat. It may have been my brain’s way of coping, but it was an overwhelming feeling to go meet him.
I decided that on our way home, I’d go see this cat as a way of honoring Zoloft and comforting myself. After all, he’d want me to go comfort a fellow Siamese boy, right? I was just going to pet him and make sure he got some love.
A Sad Story
When I arrived, I found Paul hiding in his litter box. He was so afraid and so scared. He was extremely thin. It hurt seeing him like that. Then I learned his story.
He had shown up at someone’s house and basically just wandered in. He was thin, covered in fleas, and had an abscess on his tail. The dude wasn’t doing well. He was brought to a rescue, but because he needed more medical care than they could provide, he was transferred to the Humane Society. He was described as purring for the veterinary team and very sweet despite being very afraid.
A Tug At My Heartstrings
The volunteer asked if I wanted to meet with him in a separate room and I said yes. After all, I was just going to pet him so no risk, right? We headed to the private meeting room. Paul stayed in his litter box and then some dogs started barking. The poor guy slinked out and hid under a chair. He was so thin and he was so reactive to every noise. He looked terrified and so uncomfortable.
It was at that moment that I knew I couldn’t leave him there. It just felt wrong to let a poor, scared guy stay any longer than he needed when I had a home that was filled with things for cats that, unfortunately, no longer had a cat who would be using them. Was I prepared to bring home a new cat? No, not at all. Zoloft was on a prescription diet so the only food I had sitting around was his prescription food. I didn’t have anything set up to properly help a new cat adjust to a new home.
But… I couldn’t leave him. I couldn’t leave that terrified cat there. With tears sliding down my cheeks, I croaked, “I think he’ll come home with me.” And he did.
It may seem odd, but it was especially meaningful to me that I met Prozac at the same time I was bringing Zoloft home to rest. I felt like I was doing what I needed to in order to take the lessons Zoloft taught me and use them to help another cat find a loving home. It also felt like Zoloft led me to his younger brother in a way so them coming home at the same time was a way of the torch being passed on.
Healing Together
Prozac was very shy at first and I let him slowly settle into his new home. There was a lot of me crying those first few weeks and I had a hard time functioning, but I was able to focus on something outside myself by having Prozac there. I had to figure out what to feed him and I had to set up a new litter box as he is a high peer. There were times where I felt angry that he wasn’t as snuggly or that he wasn’t a purr machine like Zoloft was. It was a challenging time for all which is why I encourage people to carefully think about getting a cat after your cat dies.
Despite that, Prozac began warming up to me as I tried to be patient with him. We began bonding over clicker training and I quickly discovered how much he loved to play. I started to see he is very sweet and that his meow is the cutest thing in the world. He has definitely turned into quite the snuggle bug and can often be found seeking out my lap. Despite him taking his time to get here, he’s now my very sweet boy.
My Goon’s Favorite Things
Prozac is much less scared than he was when we first met. He’s more confident and playful. His goofy personality really shone through! I learned quickly that he loves lounging on our window perch and that he, like most cats, is a huge fan of the Cat Dancer.
Prozac loves getting chin scritches and will leap into my hand when I pet his head. He’ll sit and give me a cute meow with a concerned look if he wants something or there was a strange noise.
Then there are his paws. He has the perfect paws. I’m not exaggerating when I say they are perfect!
I’m very glad he wants to snuggle now, but even if he didn’t, I still love him for who he is. He helped me and I’d like to think I helped him. I’m still grieving and will always miss what I had with Zoloft, but Prozac is special in his own way. He’s my playful dude and he and his brother are often found rough housing.
I wish I could share more of how special he is and you could get to know him like I do, but I hope you’ve enjoyed learning a bit more about my goofy goon. He tends to show up during behavior consultations so you may even be lucky enough to meet him if you set up a session with me!
