Today’s post is shared by our favorite Ohio-residing Ashley. Behold. It is a heartwarming anecdote.
I always considered myself to be a “dog person.” But, when I moved to
Yellow Springs almost three years ago, I found myself in a
relationship with a small black cat. What I first thought to be a
stray turned out to be my neighbor’s ex-girlfriend’s ex-pet. What I
called, “Black Cat Best Friend,” turned out to be “Violet.” At a
particularly rocky point in my life, I was living alone in a former
funeral parlor in a new town with no friends or family. I relied on
Violet for support. I sat with her and pet her and talked to her
almost every day. This small black cat helped to maintain what little
emotional stability I had left. Then a car hit her.
Because I’m a certain kind of girl, I took this as a sign. I thought,
“Maybe this means I’m ready to go at it alone!” I must have been wrong
because two weeks later, another small black cat showed up at my door.
This cat was more clingy than the last, following me through the yard,
trying to sneak into my apartment and car, meowing incessantly,
waiting by my door every morning when I left for work. Her name is
Irene. Because I’m a certain kind of girl, I took this as a sign.
Violet could only take me so far; she was my coping mechanism during a
dark time. Irene was the catalyst for my evolution. Three years later:
I’m still moving forward with the help of my little stray.