Day 3

Getting easier still. I can leave Mya out of her cage now, because there’s no one to jump on her. The house doesn’t smell as much, because Mya mostly potties outside. The kitchen counter is messier than before, because I have no reason to clean up after myself. And when Violet pops the back door open, I don’t have to freak out because now everyone in the house is allowed outside.

I spoke with Tiffany this evening. She says that Annabelle loves Plymy, and is trying to rub all over him like she did with Tiffany’s Mr. Kitty. Plymy still isn’t warming up to her, but has been out of the bedroom and into the kitchen and living room, but every time the dogs see him, they perk up in their crates and wag their tails and it scares him and he runs back. He and Tiffany’s little black cat Button don’t seem to have much of a relationship yet.

So there we are. I know what’s best for Plymy, which is probably living with Tiffany. I think he’ll be happier there, and I think that in the end, not having Curtis’ frustration and dislike pointed at him every day will probably help him be a better and happier cat. But right now, every day of his being scared and growing used to the new place is a day that I feel all of the fear and pain right along with him. I miss his silky fur, and petting down his head and neck and back when he was laying on my chest. It will be a long time until I feel that again, as I have decided not to visit him for a while, to avoid his getting confused. Oh, I miss that little boy of mine. Mom really was right. It’s the pains in the ass that worm their way into your heart. And that’s what it feels like… like I’m a dog with heartworms, and the heartworms are being pulled out by the ends, and taking chunks of my heart with them.