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Pet or Pest

Recently I was going through a tough time.   Caught between wondering whether this month will bring me a pay check, and worrying about my husband debilitating HBP and a few other concerns which I can’t tell anyone or find solace from,  the pressure was building handsomely.

I came home to find Kate crying about something non-stop, refusing to eat whatever was still in her food bowl, and a pile of bills on the desk.  The house was in a mess. The car was giving some problems which will take a few hundred dollars to fix.  Adding to the “shitty” list.

I exploded.

People advised me to give up Kate (that is one reason I can’t tell anyone I have stress) because she was adding to my stress, causing me headache and lost of sleep.  True, of all my concerns, Kate is the only item easily deductible from the list.  Just give it to SPCA.

But you know what?

Kate was the only item in the whole darn list that came to me, sat next to me quietly while I cried my heart out, the only item who waited until I finished and shakily put her paws on my lap and looked at me with her shaky bobbing head.

I would not give up Kate even if that trade means that the list will be completely erased off.

She is not a pest. She is my beloved pet.

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