I’ve always believed that pets can have an incredibly therapeutic effect on your life. They remind you how important it is to relax and somehow they just manage to calm the soul. So the decision to adopt a cat five months ago came quite easily to us. At the rescue centre we were immediately drawn to one little fluffbag…. Chutney, AKA chutters, chut chut, chunty, (the only way a person under 2 can pronounce Chutney apparently) chuntey monkey…you get my drift. Let’s face it, an animal is only truly loved when they have 68 different nicknames.
But when does your love for a pet cross the line into obsession? In my life, often. Much to the dismay of those around me. But now I try to watch for the signs to pull myself back to reality and remind myself that I run my life and Chutney is not my boss. Apparently I went to the interview and got hired but I still don’t remember receiving any pay checks from him.
However there are still times when I will be laying on the sofa for hours, desperate to run to the toilet, but how can I? Chutters has set up camp on lap and has no intention of moving. Let’s face it, they are inherently lazy creatures, this nap could easily turn into an all-nighter. There are many mornings when I realise I have kissed Chutney good morning before finding the time to even acknowledge the gentleman. And there have been many many events over the last few months where I have turned up covered in a duvet of fluff because giving him one last hug was more important than being presentable.
So it’s time to open my eyes a little. Would I accept this behaviour from anyone else in my life? Being completely ignored when he is not in the mood, never a word of thanks for all the food and love I send his way. Headbutting my face whenever he wants my attention. I must be stronger, I must play hard to get. I will start today