Jack

From the first day I started planning my escape a big part of it all was this guy, Jack.  Jack is 13, I've had him since he was a kitten.  He actually has/had a sister, but she didn't make the trip with us.  She wasn't really my cat, she followed my ex around like a puppy, he called her his "one true friend" (in reality she likely is his only friend).  Although we got them at the same time and they are blood related, I never really bonded with her, but Jack was mine from the first time I laid eyes on him. 

I'd never had a black cat before, so I didn't know how awesome they are.  He can hide in plain sight just by sitting on a dark chair or in a dark window.  I love the deep dark richness of his black fur.  His eyes are bright and show up even more since the rest of him is so dark.  He's my baby. 

So when I finally made the decision that it was time to go, there was no question in my mind that Jack was going with me.  He had been through almost as much as I had, on a cat level.  My ex insisted that they both get declawed, so biting is his only defence, as is hers, and she used it a lot.  His sister beat him up regularly, he often had to hide from her just to keep her from biting out chunks of his fur.  My ex is very superstitious, so he wasn't crazy about Jack from the start, so if he wasn't abusing me, he would often take out his frustrations on my cat.

Jack has been physically thrown across a room.  He has had many things thrown at him, from a pillow to a book.  He has been thrown in the shower with the water turned on full blast and hot.  He has been thrown in the tub while I took a bath.  He has been kicked, screamed at, terrorized for his entire life.  But throughout all of that time he always knew that I was his safe place.  If he was afraid, he would sometimes hide in the bathroom behind the litterbox, or if my sewing room was open he'd go way under the table in the back.  Once the coast was clear and it was safe for me to do so, I'd go get him.  He was a pretty big kitty, about 14 lbs, but when I'd pick him up to take him to sit quietly and safely with me, he'd snuggle up to me and make himself as small as he could.  We'd go out to the living room and sit in my chair together, with him snuggled up beside me or in my lap. 

Jack's never been a real cuddler, or fond of a lot of touching ... he'd tolerate just so much and then he'd be done and either hiss or bite or just run away.  He never slept on the bed, he preferred to sleep on a chair by himself out in the living room.  He's not a real touchy-feely cat, unless he's scared, then he desperately needs his mommy.  Unfortunately, he spent a lot of his time there afraid and hiding or lashing out, but he's always been my sweet black kitty who loves paper bags, catnip toys, and ice cream. 

Then suddenly one day out of the blue he was put in a cage, then took a ride in a car to a strange place where his cage was put on a wagon and taken to a strange room, where he was finally let out.  He was in his first hotel.  This was the first time he'd ever left his home since I got him 13 years ago.  He was terrified.  He snooped around and tried to hide behind the bed, I had to stuff pillows around there so he wouldn't get stuck somewhere that I couldn't get him out of.  He wouldn't eat, or use the makeshift litterbox I'd brought along.  That night Jack slept on the pillow literally wrapped around my head.   The next day he went back in the cage, then in a plane, another plane, a bus, then another hotel.  I had put an old sweatshirt of mine and a toy of his in his cage so he'd have familiar smells around him.  He must have held out as long as he could but by the end of the trip he did pee on the sweatshirt, but not so badly that he was all gross ... I just tossed the shirt & toy and he was fine.  Of course I had his favourite blankey packed with me and a backup toy.
We were at that hotel for 2 nights, he finally did eat but still wouldn't use the litter box.  It was strange and not what he was used to and he was still scared.  Again he slept wrapped around my head.  If I was sitting in a chair, he sat beside me.  If I sat on the bed, again he was right beside me.  He didn't meow, didn't hiss, no biting, not a sound, just made sure he knew where I was at all times. 

Then we went to the place where we were to do the rest of our 14 day Covid-19 quarantine.  We had a borrowed camper to stay in, it was roomy and very nice, lots of places for him to snoop around and an actual litterbox that he finally used.  He hid under a bed every time I opened the camper door for any reason, and sat tight against me whenever I sat down, and of course slept wrapped around my head.

It was early April, still quite cold, especially compared to where we'd moved from, so we relocated to an airbnb cabin.  There we had a wood stove, so it was nice and warm all the time, more space to stretch out, a borrowed laptop to watch movies on, we brought along the litterbox and we were all set.  He hid for most of the first day, but by the second he was much more comfortable, though he still ran and hid under the bed every time I opened the door or he heard a noise.  We were at the cabin for a week, then back to the camper once the cold snap had mostly passed.  Jack had now graduated to sleeping on the pillow beside my head, instead of ON my head.  It was a refreshing change not to have a "cat hat" every time I went to bed.   This is him in the camper on his favourite blankey with his toy, right beside me, of course. 

When our isolation time was complete, we moved into the house.  For me, this was heaven.  I was and am now surrounded by my people, people who I love and who love me back.  I am safe and no longer afraid (most of the time).  For Jack this was another huge change in his now constantly changing life.  He went from first spending 13 years being abused by a monster, then in the matter of 2 weeks he went into a cage, in a car, a hotel, 2 planes, a bus, another hotel, another car, the camper, another car, the cabin, another car, the camper again, then into a strange house filled with people and pets he doesn't know.

First there's Pepsi.  She's tiny, fluffy, looks harmless, but is obviously the queen of the house as she is the oldest (she's a year older than Jack) and she hates all of the other animals in the house and makes it crystal clear.   They all know to just steer clear of her and all will be well. 






This is Mort.  He's the Alpha Male cat in the house.  He spends most of his day sleeping because he spends the whole night outside hunting.  He brings home squirrels, mice, rabbits, all sorts of critters and leaves them on the deck for us to find in the morning.  He likes to sit where the kitchen floor steps up about an inch or so to the back entrance, with his furry arm leaning there like a little man keeping an eye on the stairs and the back door.
Both Pepsi and Mort of course have claws, they're both indoor/outdoor cats. 



Then there's Chester.  Chester is about 6, he's a black lab/german shepherd mix and he's basically a huge puppy.  He loves the kitties.  He loves everyone.  He's barky and big, but not nasty at all.  He and Mort often sleep on the couch together.  There are no bad vibes coming from Chester unless you're the mailman or the UPS guy. 




The only other animal Jack has ever known in his life was his nasty sister.  Now he lives in a house full of other animals.  I'm sure the first time he saw Chester he was thinking "what happened to make that kitty SO BIG?".  He'd never met a dog before, didn't have a clue what he was or what to expect from this gigantic exuberant kitty. 

We started our journey on March 28, finished our isolation on the Easter weekend.  Jack went back to sleeping ON my head and didn't leave our bedroom for over 2 months.  Since then he gradually started to make an appearance ... one of the kids asked me one night if Jack was allowed to leave his room.  I said he's allowed to, he just never does.  Apparently he had decided to take a little walk down the upstairs hall.  Interesting.  (note: we keep a flimsy cardboard barrier across the lower part of the bedroom door so he can jump in and out IF he chooses, but to deter the other kitties and Chester from going in.  Oddly enough Chester COULD just nudge it over, but never does)

Pepsi was brought in one day to meet Jack (she had been using that bedroom as her own personal space until we got there, sorry kid, it's ours for now).  She growled at Jack, he hissed and growled at her, such sweet cousins greeting each other.  Then she looked around and you could almost hear her thinking "what the --?  he's got catering?  and an en-suite???"  She took a swipe at him and was quickly ushered out.  Since then she's only leapt the barrier once (at 3am - yay) and a full-on catfight ensued.  We take major steps to avoid them even seeing each other now.

Jack very slowly, very gradually started venturing out of his room more often, a little further each time, usually when the house was really quiet late at night.  Chester can be noisy, his toenails clatter a little when he walks on the wood floor, but Jack got used to that.  He no longer hisses every time he walks past the bedroom next to us when Chester is in there for the night.

He spent a lot of his first encounters with Mort with both of them just looking at each other from about 6 feet apart.  I don't think they were social distancing, I think it was more about how neither knew what the other could do and were weighing out their options.   I used to think Jack was a big kitty.  Since we've moved he's lost about 4 lbs, so he's smaller than he was, and he's definitely smaller than Mort.  Mort is a substantial kitty, all muscle (and very snuggly).  If he wanted to, Mort could kick Jack's butt.  Jack started out just hissing and growling every time he saw Mort, then eventually he took a swipe at him. 
Now, when a declawed kitty takes a swipe at you, it's like being smacked lightly with a mitten.  He usually does a few in a row, like bop bop bop then runs away.  I'm sure the first time it happened Mort was just like "what the heck was that?" 
Since then Mort has swatted back, but never with his claws so far.  If Jack was smart he'd just leave him alone, but I'm starting to question his intelligence these days because he can't seem to do that ... though some days he does give him a wide berth. 

We had thought if any house animal would be ok with Jack it would be Pepsi, since she doesn't like the others and keeps to herself, maybe they'd be allies.  Nope.  The one animal that he got used to first was the gigantic mutant kitty - aka Chester the dog.  Jack was snarly and hissy at first, but not for long.  There is no animosity coming from Chester, he's a happy guy who loves kitties. 

3½ months ago nobody would have thought that firstly, Jack would ever leave his room, and secondly, that his main ally in the house would be Chester.  Now Jack is often found wandering the house, he just pops up randomly all over the place.  He is still hissy at people when he's surprised or startled, but fortunately the only person he has ever bitten (I did mention he's a biter) has been me.  I wouldn't want him to bite the others in the house, especially the kids (they're teens, not little kids).  Unfortunately the one person he does bite is the only one allergic to his "venom" (it's landed me in the ER for anaphylaxis already).  But this picture here, with Jack sitting there after having just had a drink from the communal water dish with Chester just laying there chillin', is proof of how far this kitty has come.  I have survived a lot, and so has he, and like a Timex we take a licking and keep on ticking.  Jack is my sweet black kitty who has done so much in such a short time, I'm so proud of him every time I see him come carefully poking his head around a corner. 

And yes, he does still sleep on my head or right beside it on the pillow.  I don't think that's stopping anytime soon.

Ain't missing you at all ....

Remember that song that came out in 1984 called "Missing you".....  it was meant to be ironic, saying I don't miss you but hearing your name or thinking about you makes me want you back, breaks my heart, etc.  For me it's not ironic, it's absolutely literal.

I reckon most of us have gone through at least one breakup in our lives, some more than others, though there are the few lucky ones who find that special someone right off the bat and that's it forever.  I'm not one of those lucky ones.  I had my share of teenage breakups that would send me listening and crying to that song (it did come out in my prime), but then when I was 24 I met the man I ended up marrying.  He abused me horribly for 14 years, threatened and tried to kill me many times, then after I left him I met the one who promised to make it all better and take care of me for the rest of my life.  Nope, that one was a dud as well, once again abusing me in some of the same and some different ways as the first.  Neither was any better or worse than the other ... both abusive narcissistic sociopaths.

What strikes me as odd sometimes, though sometimes not so much, is how I really am not missing either of them at all.  The first one is no surprise, it's been 16 years since we split.  The second was just a few months ago, though in my heart I'd left him years ago when he first started hitting me. 

When I was first contemplating leaving him I had my share of second thoughts ... I hadn't been alone in a very long time.  I'd spent the last 30 years being beaten down mentally, emotionally, and physically, and constantly reminded that I was nothing and could do nothing without either of them.  Or could I?  I had no idea, but I knew I had to try.

For 16 years I've had to be constantly accountable for my whereabouts and what I was doing and who I was with.  He would text or call me repeatedly throughout the day to check up on me.  He'd time me when I said I was leaving somewhere to go home (like from the library or something) then quiz me on why it didn't take the amount of time he figured it should have.  If my answer wasn't acceptable then I paid the price. 

When I finally did leave him, I was alone (with my cat) for the first time in a very, very long time; and rather than wondering when he was going to message or call, or try to come up with answers to whatever questions he might have for me, or worry that I was doing something he wouldn't like or that he'd scream at me for stepping out of line, or punch me for making a sound in my sleep ...... for a little while all I did was sit there in the quiet.  I just sat.  I didn't have to say anything, do anything, all I had to do was just BE.  I didn't even cry, I just sat there.  It was terrifying and liberating at the same time.   I had blocked his phone so he wasn't calling or texting.  He didn't know where I was, and had no way of finding me, and I was so relieved that from that point on I was only answerable to myself.

Up until the day I left I had wondered to myself if I would miss him.  I had no doubts that I had to leave, but I did wonder if I would miss anything at all about him.  Nope, not a thing.  I miss nothing of him.  I don't even think about him.  His face doesn't come to mind at all, ever.  I don't wonder how he's doing, I honestly don't care how he's doing.  He tormented me for so long that of course I do have PTSD, on top of the PTSD I already had from the first one, so that's extra special .... I get nightmares, flashbacks, all the usual stuff.  But do I miss him?  Absolutely not.  I truly ain't missing him at all.

It's a strange feeling to suddenly be your own person.  To be responsible for making your own decisions, things that you haven't done for a really long time.  I went to a store to buy cutlery (I am literally starting over from scratch) and when I found a set I liked I was hesitant at first.  I looked around for someone to tell me yes, you can buy that if it's what you want.  There was nobody to do that, this was MY decision, and mine alone.  If I ended up not liking it, then that was my problem too, but I don't ... I LOVE it.  I've been gradually picking out things for my new life, taking my time and getting only things that I love, things that mean something to ME, that are special to ME, that shout out to the world that I chose it and it represents who I am and what I like and if they don't like it, I really don't care. 

It's also terrifying and often overwhelming.  It's a huge thing to just start all over from nothing at this stage of my life.  As I mentioned, I'm having to buy literally everything I couldn't get out of the house with, so that's pretty much everything I need to fill a house.  I did get my clothing, books, my quilting fabric and tools, some dishes I'd collected in anticipation of this hopeful future, and not much else.  I often find myself walking through a store looking at kitchen supplies and comparing things like the various slow cookers and then I'm looking at knives, pots, toasters, kettles, moving on to area rugs, lamps, literally everything starts piling up in my head and I just have to get out of the store ... it's too much.  Thankfully I'm able to collect what I need slowly.  I see an item or a good deal, and if I like it, I grab it.  Then I can cross one thing off the list.  Maybe the next day or week I'll see another thing or two, but there's no way I can do it all at once.  For one thing, I can't afford to.  And I have no place to put it all even if I could.  Not yet anyhow.  But fortunately for me I'm surrounded by people who love me and are helping me deal with that.

I do wonder sometimes if he ever misses me at all, or thinks about me. 
The day I left, once he realized I was gone he sent me an email saying he had no idea it was so bad for me ... really?  Maybe he thought the bruises were what - decorative?  What about the times when he would laugh and brag about how he loved the thought that he could terrify me with just a few words or the tone of his voice.  Or all the pain meds I had to take and x-rays I had to get because of him ... I guess all those things were just for fun. 
He said he was sorry for yelling ... no he wasn't, he loved yelling, often just screamed AAAAHHHHH in the middle of the night just to make sure I couldn't sleep. 
He said all he wanted was to make me happy and he thought a nice home, no worries about money and freedom to do my thing was enough.  The home was nice because I kept it that way, because if there was a tiny mark or loose thread or speck of anything he would scream at me for "destroying" the place.  I could use my credit card when I wanted to buy something, as long as he got every receipt and I had done my duty in adding up everything ahead of time to make sure it was all right and of course I needed a reason for everything.  I knew better than to ask for something fancy or expensive because although he often "offered" to buy me things like a fancy expensive watch or something, I knew from experience that I would be expected to a. not use it so it would be pristine and new forever, b. if I ever did use it I could never get a mark on it that would indicate that it was used, and c. I would have to thank him profusely for it every time I used it.  So no, I asked for nothing.  As far as the freedom to do my thing ... I could go wherever I wanted, as long as I told him where I was going, who I was with, and how long I would be.  Even then he would call and/or message me constantly checking to make sure I was where he expected me to be and then I had to tell him when I was on my way home so he could time me and make sure I arrived in the right amount of time or I had to account for the difference. 
His email ended with him telling me he hoped I was safe and healthy and that he'll love me forever whether I believe him or not.
Well, the rest of the email was a lie so I expect the ending was as well, especially with the way he handled himself after I left.

There are a few things I do miss.  I miss the convenience and accessibility to get certain things easily in a large city.  That is out-weighed by the charm and friendliness of a small town and being surrounded by my family and friends here.  I miss the fact that I won't be going to watch my Canucks play at their arena anymore.  No biggie, I'll watch them on TV (it beats sitting next to someone who either won't stop talking or won't talk AT ALL or the abusive things he'd do on the way to and from the games).   I miss the Childrens' Hospice where I volunteered, I made many good friends and met some amazing people there.  I miss my quilting guild and my friends ... I already know many quilters locally here and I still have many friends that I've already seen a few times.  My best friends in BC will now have to be online friends, but they know that safety is paramount. 

So I do wonder now if he ever does think of me, or wish he'd not been such a gigantic abusive ass for 16 years.  I doubt he does, and to be honest I really don't care.  I'm done.

If you have NEVER ....

To all the people who have questioned, criticized, blamed, finger pointed, whispered, gossiped about the various life altering decisions I’ve made over the years, right now please mentally stand up.

If you have NEVER been raped, you may sit down.

If you have NEVER been strangled or choked to near unconsciousness, you may sit down.

If you have NEVER been punched repeatedly by someone who claimed to love you, you may sit down.

If you have NEVER been tortured, you may sit down.

If you have NEVER been pushed down the stairs, you may sit down.

If you have NEVER had someone tell you that unless you leave & never return you will be gang raped, dragged naked through town tied to the back of a truck, then buried under a cement slab in the yard, you may sit down.

If you have NEVER laid awake all night, silent & still, afraid to move or make any sound, you may sit down.

If you have NEVER been sodomized by a person or various other large and painful things, then crawled bleeding & crying to the bath, you may sit down.

If you have NEVER been told that you are a useless waste of space, you may sit down.

If you have NEVER been screamed at & punched in the middle of the night for any or no reason, you may sit down.

If you have NEVER been told that if you’re too “chicken” to kill yourself they’d gladly do it for you, you may sit down.

If you have NEVER had to have surgery to repair damage caused by someone claiming to love you, you may sit down.

If you have NEVER had to hide in your own home until the coast was clear, you may sit down.

If you have NEVER had to stay away from the small people you gave birth to because your life depended on it, you may sit down.

If you have NEVER been kicked in the face while trying to get away, you may sit down.

If you have NEVER been publicly screamed at & humiliated for any or no reason, you may sit down.

If you are still standing, and I’m betting there are none if any left, then you and only you may criticize me. My shoes are awkward, ill-fitting, uncomfortable and not many people that I know could or have walked in them, so until you have, just keep it to yourself because I have enough going on inside my head that I don’t need you in there hammering away too.

Now I’ll sit down, because frankly, I’m exhausted.