June 22, 2018: The Story of Arya
I sit with my coffee and english muffin on a rainy day. I think to myself “Okay, I get to write about Arya (my cat)” that thought is then followed by “What in the holy heck is wrong with me?” “Why do I have a cat? How did this happen? Am I a cat lady?”
Stetson and I found ourselves about 3 to 4 weeks, once we arrived in Illinois, to be on different schedules. I was working and he was constantly on campus. We found our down time to be at different times. We would sit at home, clean, cook, watch tv, go for walks, anything to keep us busy. Stetson said to me one day in words that seemed so simple, and as if it would be the easiest thing we could ever do, “We should think about adopting a pet”. (Words that for the first year of Arya’s life, haunted me, I should have thought harder.)
We knew we did not want a dog, mainly because we do not have space in our lofted apartment and three square foot “yard”. I sat on the idea of a pet for less than 24 hours when we saw the sign for the humane society saying they were at “Cat-pacity”. (Curse you cute play on words). That day we went to the humane society and came home with Arya.
For those of you that knew me prior to Arya, I was the opposite of a cat person. I hated them, I was afraid of them, I thought that they were a pointless animal (sorry all you cat people out there). Stetson’s comforting words were that “maybe if I got a kitten and saw it grow up into a cat I would not mind cats so much”. He was right on that one (those words felt like I was typing on 50 needles rather than a keyboard), but Arya and I have definitely had our ups and downs.
For the record, I puke a little every time I realize that I am talking about a cat.
Arya was great the first month or so, then she began acting out. She only acted out with me. “Acting out” involved me constantly be scratched or bit when trying to pet her, her cornering me in the house and attacking my legs. The worst of all though was at night, she would run up the stairs, hide either in the closet or under the bed. The second I stepped foot in the room, she jumped out of her hiding space, ran at me on only her hind legs (which I didn’t even know cats could do) with her front legs outstretched. Then she proceeded to bite me until I was fully under the covers. This was a nightly occurrence that resulted in me sprinting to my bed before she could bite me or Stetson having to escort me. Talk about relaxing.
Stetson’s way of trying to make it better was saying that I needed to work on my “discipline voice”. Can someone tell him I’m a seventh grade teacher and would not be alive if I didn’t have a discipline voice? He also said I need to not show her my fear. Okay. If normal pets sense fear, they are usually comforting or trying to get rid of the fear. Now, I needed to hide the fear from my cat so that I didn’t get mauled by the wild animal living in my home. Perfect. This was a great decision (I can’t stress how much more I should have thought about this).
One of the major turning points for Arya and I’s relationship was after Christmas vacation. It was either Saturday or Sunday evening, Stetson was not home and I was laying on the couch. All the sudden I see a flash of cat and boom the 7 foot Christmas tree is falling over. I reach out my arm, feeling like The Hulk, and put the tree back up before it could fall all the way down. (Yes I was so proud of this and told my students the next school day). After that, I locked Arya in her kennel for the rest of the night. #discipline. She meowed constantly while I tried to drown out her crying by turning up my fan. (I’m going to be a great mom).
Since then Arya has found some peace with me. She still seems to struggle sometimes with deciding whether or not she hates me, but more often than not, chooses not to. My suspicions about cats, I would argue is right, just not so harsh. I no longer hate cats, and they are not completely pointless. She has brought laughter and lots of warm snuggles. The first year of being a reluctant cat mom, is going well. Luckily for me we will have at least 18 more years to keep trying (again really should have thought about this decision longer). Here’s to progressing in our love-hate relationship Arya and Happy First Birthday.
Stetson and I found ourselves about 3 to 4 weeks, once we arrived in Illinois, to be on different schedules. I was working and he was constantly on campus. We found our down time to be at different times. We would sit at home, clean, cook, watch tv, go for walks, anything to keep us busy. Stetson said to me one day in words that seemed so simple, and as if it would be the easiest thing we could ever do, “We should think about adopting a pet”. (Words that for the first year of Arya’s life, haunted me, I should have thought harder.)
We knew we did not want a dog, mainly because we do not have space in our lofted apartment and three square foot “yard”. I sat on the idea of a pet for less than 24 hours when we saw the sign for the humane society saying they were at “Cat-pacity”. (Curse you cute play on words). That day we went to the humane society and came home with Arya.
For those of you that knew me prior to Arya, I was the opposite of a cat person. I hated them, I was afraid of them, I thought that they were a pointless animal (sorry all you cat people out there). Stetson’s comforting words were that “maybe if I got a kitten and saw it grow up into a cat I would not mind cats so much”. He was right on that one (those words felt like I was typing on 50 needles rather than a keyboard), but Arya and I have definitely had our ups and downs.
For the record, I puke a little every time I realize that I am talking about a cat.
Arya was great the first month or so, then she began acting out. She only acted out with me. “Acting out” involved me constantly be scratched or bit when trying to pet her, her cornering me in the house and attacking my legs. The worst of all though was at night, she would run up the stairs, hide either in the closet or under the bed. The second I stepped foot in the room, she jumped out of her hiding space, ran at me on only her hind legs (which I didn’t even know cats could do) with her front legs outstretched. Then she proceeded to bite me until I was fully under the covers. This was a nightly occurrence that resulted in me sprinting to my bed before she could bite me or Stetson having to escort me. Talk about relaxing.
Stetson’s way of trying to make it better was saying that I needed to work on my “discipline voice”. Can someone tell him I’m a seventh grade teacher and would not be alive if I didn’t have a discipline voice? He also said I need to not show her my fear. Okay. If normal pets sense fear, they are usually comforting or trying to get rid of the fear. Now, I needed to hide the fear from my cat so that I didn’t get mauled by the wild animal living in my home. Perfect. This was a great decision (I can’t stress how much more I should have thought about this).
One of the major turning points for Arya and I’s relationship was after Christmas vacation. It was either Saturday or Sunday evening, Stetson was not home and I was laying on the couch. All the sudden I see a flash of cat and boom the 7 foot Christmas tree is falling over. I reach out my arm, feeling like The Hulk, and put the tree back up before it could fall all the way down. (Yes I was so proud of this and told my students the next school day). After that, I locked Arya in her kennel for the rest of the night. #discipline. She meowed constantly while I tried to drown out her crying by turning up my fan. (I’m going to be a great mom).
Since then Arya has found some peace with me. She still seems to struggle sometimes with deciding whether or not she hates me, but more often than not, chooses not to. My suspicions about cats, I would argue is right, just not so harsh. I no longer hate cats, and they are not completely pointless. She has brought laughter and lots of warm snuggles. The first year of being a reluctant cat mom, is going well. Luckily for me we will have at least 18 more years to keep trying (again really should have thought about this decision longer). Here’s to progressing in our love-hate relationship Arya and Happy First Birthday.