Have I told you about the kitties in my dreams? They appear almost as much as he does. A therapist once told me these creatures represent me and that has both made sense and not over the years. In most cases I am taking care of them, stressed about them…there are almost always two, sometimes they morph into my dog I now have, my niece or a baby, possibly the one I miscarried a few years ago but the kitties have been present for over 10 years, adventures with kitties – saving them from flash floods, fires, neglect and abuse, I wonder who would narrate such a Netflix special.
The kitties are seemingly a memory frozen in time because at one point I had two kitties, Angelica, I called her Lika, and Willow. Lika was my childhood cat, I brought her home at a young age, much to my Mothers dismay, I mean rightfully so, I always brought home strays. I had found Lika, her siblings and the mommy kitty under a dumpster on my way home, from…where you may ask, I have no recollection but this is the story I have on file as the origin story of Lika, the mind is a mysterious thing. The story goes, the kitty mom was dead and I loaded her and all the kittens into a box and rode home on my sweet pink bike, my mom buried the kitty mom in the back yard (we had a garden of dead animals when we moved from this house #sorrynotsorry new owners, damn I miss that house!) I kept Lika and we gave the rest away. My parents left to travel, after I graduated high school; I kept the one thing from my childhood that would never leave – that scrappy kitty. It should be noted that although I loved that freaking cat, I mean obviously, I dream of her a decade after her death but my favorite cat was Cosmic Creepers – an all-black cat whom my Dad (a retired cop) brought home from a crime scene when I was 6 – that cat was also very scrappy.
After my parents left, they came home in the summers and were basically snow birds; I visited them at ‘the property’ which was just a small piece of land at that point, that is where they parked the RV, now there is a house on the property, I cannot say I love that property, it is what it is. One night at dinner my Dad did something that had always bothered me, I think that because they left me, I mean I did feel abandoned and I had no idea what to do with myself, about anything so I just kind of floated through life after that but he spanked my butt while I was putting dinner on the tiny table in the camper. I am not sure what sparked my outrage but I turned around and yelled at him that I felt gross and hated when he did that, that I am not kid anymore and he laughed, he said ‘I made you, I can do whatever I want’ and lightly punched my cheek with his fist. Enraged further I ‘lightly’ punched his arm asking if that hurt, if that was ‘appropriate’ and we went back and forth ‘push me pull you’ style and then I pushed, and I pushed…I wanted to get my point across, I mean I was always a sassy kid, but I never countered my father, he was always working so I guess I never had the opportunity but I am his daughter, head strong as fuck.
Eventually he lost it and pushed me, hard, into the table, I don’t remember much else, I did have bruises on my mid/lower back from where the table hit me, for weeks. I left, drove home crying, it’s funny how the night moves. I don’t remember the drive home really but I remember I did not speak to my parents for many, many months. I used to visit them every chance I got – never mind that they left me, I always went to them, in Arizona, in Utah and at the property – perhaps I was chasing what I thought was a healthy family. When my Dad apologized, I do believe he meant it, I also know my Mom meant it when she told me ‘sometimes you just push too hard’.
I am not sure how long after but I met Matt, to this day, when I do speak of him, I call him ‘Bad Matt’ he was a drunk, a pill popper, a heroine and or crack addict – he was much more and possibly much less, but it took me time, too much time, to uncover that wreck. We had a moved into a townhome in Kirkland and we had Lika there – one day she disappeared and I wandered the neighborhood for hours, I don’t know if I had pictures of her to post, print out – this was 10+ years ago – I couldn’t just post online, I felt helpless, this was before Myspace for Pete’s sake lol! We were told by a neighbor that a cat had been hit on the road and I ran to see; Lika, poor Lika – we buried kitty in the back yard, said prayers and I cried for hours.
I remember Matt and I made love and after – I was sitting on the side of the bed and heard something down stairs….I ran down to the den, it was LIKA!!! At the back slider, I was so happy!!!!!! She became an indoor cat after that, ugh – possibly so traumatic, losing my only piece of my childhood, and one kitty had a lovely sendoff they may have not had otherwise but it was rough. Not too long after that, this one I do remember, I found many many kittles under a townhome near ours, feral and wild – but I collected them, took them to the humane society – I think 8 in all, there were spayed, neutered and adopted out but I kept one, Willow – she was beautiful, a Maine coon but she did have a heart defect, the vet said she would always struggle and would likely die within a few years but I loved her with my whole heart and forgot all about that.
Things with Matt became abusive and awful, again no memories of concrete occurrences but we fought a lot and I had to pay for a lot of the damage to the apartment, many holes in the walls which I could not explain to the property manager, nor did I remember but it was my name was on the lease so yea, lesson learned? Years later, I am not sure how many, I met Scott, at the time I felt he was a ‘boy next door’ type who looked sexy in his homeland uniform, perhaps I thought he would be the opposite of Bad Matt, a better choice. I was combative after Matt, prior to that I was calm – with no experience or expectations – I floated along. Now more mad about my parents for leaving and this new ability of mine to find the worst kind of man; unsure of how to act or trust I kept him at a distance at first but Scott calmed me, he said I was a wild horse but could be tamed; I slowly trusted him and I became a little house wife of sorts. I loved cooking, doing yard work, doing his laundry – ironing his uniform, my parents were in complete disbelief – I guess I was the opposite of that prior to this relationship, I just know I did not want to be subservient like my Mom but Scott made me want to take care of someone.
We eventually rented a mother in law house in a rural part of Seattle – moving in together wasn’t new to me, it was the 2nd time but I was so happy to have space for the kitties, a 2nd room for my parents and family but once we moved in I was told they had to be outdoor cats – he built them a cat house on the deck, insulated and even had a heater but I was so sad, I never told him, even when my allergies started to make it difficult to snuggle them – I wanted them inside, I would lay awake hoping they were ok but I never said a word. Months after we moved Lika disappeared, then Willow…it’s been 10 years and I don’t know what happened, he told me the neighbors used to come up to the house and play with them on the porch, they had kids – most likely stole them, coyotes always were brought up as a possibility. I remember coming home from a babysitting job and being so tired I walked right past Willow, Lika was already gone by this time and she was out and ready for pets, I walked right past, the next day she was gone, perhaps it is the regret, feeling that I abandoned them that keeps them in my dreams. Scott was another bad boyfriend in the end but sometimes when I was being stubborn, Scott would wrap his arms around me, he was very tall, skinny but tall, and say “here kitty kitty”, it wasn’t sexual – it became a call to action, my call to melt into him and things would be ok, I could let down my guard – I should have kept it up I guess but that is another long blog story.
When I wake from a ‘kitty dream’, it’s so confusing, they never die but I have carried them bloody, malnourished and or shot throughout an elaborate maze of circumstance, yet I do not know what happened to them in that little rural heaven I briefly lived in. They only visit in the night time too, never a day nap, “it’s it funny how the night moves”. The tiny act of dreaming, not tiny emotionally albeit, I have, over time, collected in thought what you have read, unsure of exactly what holds all of this together but I think that is what trauma is like, a collection of memories, spliced together and shades of….well in my case, many versions of kitties.
RIP Lika & Willow – I will always love you.
-B
