I was never a cat person

Growing up, my sister had severe allergies to cats and most dogs. She couldn’t sleep over at certain friends houses, she couldn’t be around cats for too long, and we never ever had cats in the house. This allergy to cats translated into a fear of them on my part. I felt like my sister’s allergy to them translated into all cats hating me (completely irrational) and therefore, i hated all cats.

I was often met by the chant of, “but you haven’t met MY cat. She’s absolutely wonderful and cuddly and loves everyone!”. I would often hear this and immediately be turned off by that person. No, Debrah, your cat sucks too, you just refuse to understand that. I would always meet these cats that loved everyone and immediately be met with hissing, biting, and scratching. I hated cats.

My friends would make fun of me when I walked by a cat because I would take a wide turn in hope that the cat would not be interested in me and leave me alone. The thought of a cat getting onto my lap and sinking its claws into me was my worst nightmare. I hated that they couldn’t just be like dogs; always happy to see me, never sinking tiny knives into my thighs, and ready for attention at all times.

Then, my life took a downward spiral in 2018, especially Spring Quarter. Everything I did in my housing situation was a problem that needed to be publicly aired, even when I wasn’t home for the entire day. I had so much anxiety walking into my house that I went to the hospital. I needed an out. My rabbi and his incredible wife Julie opened up their home to me and offered me a room, rent free. The one condition was they have two cats (Tux and Buddy) as well as a dog, Oliver. Of course, I was in ZERO position to turn down this out from hell. I realized that when you are stuck between a rock and a hard place, you have to face some fears and move forward.

I moved in with the Rabbi and Julie, as well as the motley crew of cats and the dog. I realized that Buddy, a little grey, old man-esque fur baby, is the sweetest thing in the world. He will come and lay on my bed for hours and snuggle up on my chest if I don’t give him adequate attention. Tux, on the other hand, is a loose cannon. I never know if he will let me pet him or if he will attack my hand for purely existing. I tend to favor Buddy, and Tux always looks a bit heartbroken, until he tries to bite me.

Regardless, I was never a cat person before moving in. Now, I find myself taking hundreds of pictures of the cats doing their ridiculous things throughout the day. But this is yet another thing I tell my therapist.