… teaches me a whole new level of patience;
… forces me to learn another language: what is the difference between meow, meeeeoooooow and maaaaraaaouw?
… made me take a good look at my apartment – and turn everything upside-down to accommodate the cats, myself, the additional scratching posts and toilets, and still have an aesthetically pleasing and cosy home;
… teaches me a new level of compassion. These are creatures who cannot explain their pain or tell me about their traumas in order to understand why they behave the way they do. I just have to guess and feel my way through, showering them with love;
… gives me an insight as to what life would have been with three children. Each cat needs their own special, exclusive time, and activity but also need to be taught good manners and right conduct.
… reminds me how uniquely individual each cat is. I have an imperial princes who needs to be carried up and down places, but will travel any distance on any vehicle; a bully who won’t take any bullshit from anyone and absolutely hates being brushed; a shy wall flower who is scared of anything that moves and can’d decide whether to shiver or purr.
… sounds like a lot of work, but any relationship in this universe is. If you commit to it, you can’t back out and change your mind simply because it is inconvenient or has a few bumps along the way. I just happen to commit to slightly more complicated relationships with these four-legged creatures.
I dream of the day
… that they all get along like long lost friends and best buddies;
… I can photograph them all together;
… I can cuddle up with all three to watch a sob story on Netflix.
… that I wake up to running playful cats instead of frustrated growls under tables and beds.
I chose to live with three cats, three traumatised Persian cats, two of whom need to learn how to trust and love again, and one transformed rescue cat who is a social butterfly but whose world crumbles when shouted at. So yes, divorce does strange things to my life.