What was it like?: Turning in a neglected cat

I'm torn. I've thought about this mid sized grey cat for weeks, months. He's been perched outside of a house a block away from mine. We walk by it everyday on our way to school. The cat hardly moved. It was being fed, but it was sick. I knew the homeowners had grown attached to it, there would be cans of cat food in the morning, by the afternoon half eaten cans remained, filled with flies. The cat would eat and go back and perch on a sliver of fence. It rained? The cat stayed. 

It was perched on a half inch fence, a fence only three feet tall. There were places along the small fence that were thicker and once he found those, weeks ago, he stayed there. In the same spot. Throwing up, defecating, same spot, every day. 

It tore me up! My son told me one morning, Mom, is his tummy getting bigger? It was. The cat was in pain. 

I put in a request for animal cruelty yesterday morning. Probably around this same time. I did put the address of the homeowner, I also put in my details. By the afternoon, the cat was not there. I didn't want to think it had already been picked up. It had been 4 hours, max. My worry, was that upon the cat's eventual death, it would rot there. It didn't deserve that. A slow, painful, certain death. 

As we turned the corner to come home after school, I told my kids I had decided to contact the city for help with the cat. My kid's talked about how sad it looked. My son reminded me about the big stomach. He touched my shoulder and told me I did the right thing by getting it help. 

This morning was the truth. Had it taken hours to get him help? I'm not naïve. I know they probably will/have put it to death. Did I want that? Never. But did it deserve to humainley leave this Earth and not feel pain? absolutely. 

It wasn't there. The cat was gone. 

It's 8:58am, just an hour after dropping off my kids and I had to write all this down. This is the type of thoughts that cross my mind. The cat, the perching, sadness, relief. 

Little Kitty Cat, 

I love you. 

What was it like?: Saying enough! To a loved one

If you have read my blog, perhaps you have read about my relationship with my youngest brother. 

I don't believe I was a good sister. I could have been nurturing, but I would often choose not to engage. I don't believe I learned how to express love as a young child. So, although I cared about my brother, I would choose my own interests. Our baby sitter would put us against each other. He was not a calm child. So often, I was tasked with taking care of him, and it was hard. I was young, so as soon as I could, I wanted my own time. 

Did we have a communicative relationship? No. But I did reflect and try to be a better sister as I got older. Yeah. Having kids, and suffering from PMDD turned me into a horrible version of myself, but as I sought help, my heart softened. Medication and therapy conversations helped my heart grow, too. 

Over the years I chose to forgive harsh words, harsh interactions, for the sake of family. But therapy taught me I am not responsible for the words or actions of others. I am responsible for Kathy. For checking in on Kathy and reflecting on their words and actions. Not obsess. But feel; in the moment. 

I was ready to call my parents that week. I was working up the dialog in my head. The words to use that would allow everyone to be heard. Deciding if I wanted to make bullet points but also knowing that would be too impersonal. I was scared of steering off course and stumbling upon a one sided argument with my mom. 

But my brother text me. He text I was abandoning MY family. His level of manipulation was increasing as I was deciding on how to speak to my parents, with days turning into weeks and eventually many months. 

He has always judged me and when able to, made me out to be a bad person. I've tried to give him advise, and ways to help himself. He's often had to apologize for his words. And I knew the last time we had argued, it was going to be the last. I didn't like the version of myself that day. The words I said or the way I yelled. If he was going to bring out the worst in me, it was time to stop communicating. 

I sent him a text with my point of view, as concise and precise as possible. Told him his words were harsh and uncalled for. I was not going to take his behavior and look the other way. 

Yes, he has reached out and I won't call back. I did text him not to come to my home. 

Sometimes, people don't understand the value of others. 

Take care, 

Kat

What was it like?: Having an older brother

so many thoughts running through my head. 

It was fun.

It was frustrating. 

I met my oldest brother when he was 18. He spoke only Spanish. He was funny. I was 14ish. 

Over time our relationship shifted. I grew up. I began to make my own choices and had independence. Did he take advantage? Or did I? Who asked who? Maybe I was too trusting. I asked him to find drugs for me and he did. 

I was already a heavy marijuana user, but as I approached drinking age, a rebellious spirit inside wanted more. One night, we stayed out all night. it was the first and last time. I felt safe with him. I trusted him with things I wouldn't say to anyone. 

Weeks after that night he got in trouble for something. He was talking back to my Mom, diminishing the situation he was in. As I walk from the kitchen to the living room, we lock eyes. He says, "Mom, you are worried about me? You should see all the things she does behind your back!" 

I'm sure I shouted something back. I've never stood down from a verbal match. Let's go! 

Mom stopped us. She said this wasn't about me and to go to my room. I did and she never brought it up again.  

My brother apologized, but it broke my heart. He's my half brother, different fathers. And although I met him at a young age, I never treated him like he wasn't a member of the family. In a moment of frustration, he lashed out on the first person he saw, no care for who I was. 

Our relationship today is cordial. At least there's that. 

Take care, 

Kathy