Yeah, the cats...

Today my cats and I parted ways. My truly wonderful friend S. [& her partner in crime, S.] took them off my hands. Of all the things that I need to get done before I leave, I sincerely didn't think much of giving the cats away to their new owners. That is until it was time to do it.

In preparation, I cleaned the shitbox, the tent that covers the shitbox [necessary, of course, in order to provide my feline companions their much needed privacy], and the transportation device, i.e. the kitty cage. When the cleaning was finished, I was drenched with sweat, covered in what I assumed to be a fair amount of tiny flecks of cat shit, and really starting to feel hungover from the night before.

S. and S. showed up and the transfer began. I think in explaining the role I play in the lives of my cats I came out looking like a terrible pet owner. More of a warden, really, than a loving, caring mother-type. For the most part, I would say that this is true. I am not the loving, caring mother-type when it comes to my cats. They annoy me, aggravate me, and make me sneeze and itch. However, when the Shits McGee got into the box and I walked the box out to the car, I was truly shocked to find that it was all I could do to not start crying hysterically. When I picked up Nigel to put him into his box, he gave me a familiar hug and licked my shoulder. Again, all I could do to not start weeping.

After the cats were gone, and after I had calmed down, I started thinking that I was a horrible, selfish person for not only owning cats who I ignore, but for taking a job that requires that I give said cats to friends so I can romp around the world. That feeling turned into a feeling of utter dread regarding this decision to move to Japan. I keep telling myself [and others] that it will be fine, that I'm making the right decision, that everything is great, but what if I'm wrong?

The cats have been gone for about four hours, and I don't feel any better. Maybe it's all the crying, but I feel incredibly empty. When they're here, I take them for granted, push them away when they want attention because they make me itch, and sometimes forget to feed them. Now that they're gone, I miss them terribly. So I guess what I'm trying to say is that when it comes to my cats, I'm just like every ex-boyfriend I've ever had.