I have three cats, all rescued under different circumstances. In fact, they say they choose one of them, and I'm convinced that's true. The first cat was under my car. I was a student at the university and went to get some notes, and out of nowhere, there was a tiny little kitten.
I asked the security guards, the few people who were there, if they knew of any cats with kittens, but nothing, there were no cats, just that baby. I texted my sister, because I lived with her in a studio apartment. I wasn't worried; I thought it would be easy to find her a place to live. It didn't happen.
He was small, his diet wasn't right, I had to take him to the vet and he had one treatment, then another, then he got poisoned and when I realized it, I was already attached to him and he had been with us for about 6 months.
When I was about two years old, I was at university and I saw a cat with a big belly. I assumed she was pregnant, so I preferred to keep her at home so she could have her puppies in peace. It pained me to imagine a dog attacking or simply struggling on the street.
I took her to the vet, and to my surprise, it wasn't a pregnancy bump; it was ascites, fluid retention in the abdominal area. Unfortunately, that meant her health was compromised.
The vet told me the prognosis was "guarded"; it could be kidney, liver, or heart failure. He said she needed a lot of tests, which, in theory, meant she spent a year going through treatments, tests, and rulings out, because she would improve, then get worse, and suddenly one day she was perfectly fine. When I rescued her, I named her Agata, but I changed it to Milagros.
After having Omega and Milagros, I said that I couldn't have another cat; the expenses are high, in food, veterinary care, especially Milagros was expensive, hahaha, but I don't regret it; if I hadn't rescued her, she would probably already be dead.
I was already working, passing through Chacaito and I see a cat running as if fleeing, a lady who was feeding them tells me, it's because other cats always attack him, he is a young cat that was abandoned here and they don't accept him.
I was a little worried; they dumped him there, and the other cats were attacking him. I couldn't get him out of my head. I passed by several times that week and didn't see him again. But they know; cats know exactly who to meow at.
A lone black cat appeared, timid, but its demeanor was as if it wanted me to see it. And so it was; I saw it, connected with it, called to it, but it wouldn't come near. I took out some of my leftover lunch, and as it approached, another cat appeared and scared it away. I continued visiting like this every day for a week.
One day I sat down to have coffee very close to where I had seen him, but I had already resigned myself to the fact that I couldn't help him. However, he came up to me on his own and meowed, started rubbing against my leg, and I reached down and touched him. He put his head in my hand, and I could hear him purring. I was so excited.
As best I could, I put him in my purse. To my surprise, he let me; that's why I say he chose me. With him, the process was more difficult. My cats hated him, and it was the same; they both attacked him. I locked him in the other room, and little by little his anxiety lessened. I named him Bones because he was skin and bones when I rescued him; he was very light.
Today, the three of them live together. They sometimes fight, but we're together, and please, don't let me choose another one, because soon I'll be the crazy cat lady. Single, over thirty, and with three cats. What many people don't know is the peace cats bring, the calm, and how affectionate they are.
They chose me, and I would choose them a thousand times over.
