Depression, Life and Death through the eyes of my cat

Miss Kitty has been a member of our family for 10 years. We rescued her from an urban pound at the age of 3+. So, at 13+, she is what could be considered “mature”. We introduced her to the outside after about 1 year, and all of her appropriate shots. She loved the outdoors. Perhaps living in a cage, in a room full of cages, made her love the freedom, smells, and excitement of outdoors all the more. Then one day, she got bit by a fox, and required 22 stitches. Selfishly, I didn’t let her out again. Years passed and I noticed that the fire left her eyes, and she spent all day sleeping. She hardly ate, although she had plenty of opportunity to do so. She sat in the window looking out. She became obsessive with us, and if we left for a couple of hours she mourned and was clingy when we got back. She was clearly depressed. Who knew cats could get depressed? Within the last 2 years I have been allowing her back outside again with the proviso that she does not stay out all night (when foxes are active in our community). She is alive again. Everyday she runs and jumps around as if she were a kitten. She brings countless presents of moles, chipmonks and squirrels in to us. (We have a Havaheart trap, and return the live ones). She eats three times as much as she used to, and still maintains her girly figure. She purrs like a champ. Her fur is full and shiny, her eyes sparkle with life. In her own way she has told me that you have to be IN life, not watching life through the window.


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