Get it? Because it's May? DO YOU GET IT?!
Anyway. The day before June starts, I remembered that I hadn't posted an entry for this month yet. Oops. I had actually been planning on making a video entry, but I got lazy. So there's that. At the moment, I am home from work, as I have been feeling crummy (to put it mildly) for about a week. And so, in desperate need of some recuperation, me voilà.
The biggest thing that happened in May was the adoption of our two guinea pigs, Eleanor Pigby and Lucy Diamond. We actually got them on May 1, so their first "monthaversary" is tomorrow. We rather love them. At the moment, they're on the other side of the room behind me, chutting happily (it's a sort of squeaking noise that happy piggies make), munching on hay and running around their cage. (Speaking of which, I need to change the bedding for that today. Sigh.)
Getting a guinea pig is something that has been on my mind for a few years now. I used to want a hamster when I was little, but found out that they had a tendency to bite (hard), and we always had cats when I was growing up, so getting a rodent was never really an option. Lauren, one half of my bestest friends, had had several throughout her life, and constantly insisted to me how amazing they were, but my response was always along the lines of “Okay, honey.” I didn’t actually meet a guinea pig until a few years ago, a lovely Abyssinian (really long hair) chap by the name of Scooter at her dad and step-mom’s farm. I fell in love with him and immediately gained the desire for a guinea pig of my own. While I was in Montréal, I actually entertained the idea of getting one (when I was still intending on staying for the rest of my life), but then I did some research and found out that they needed a lot more space than what they’re given at pet stores (or even the cages that are sold there), and that they really do a lot better with at least one other guinea pig since they’re very social critters, unless you can be there with it almost constantly. So gave up on the idea, but when I moved in with Theo, he agreed to entertain the idea.
Now, there may be some among you (whoever “you” are) who wonder: what about our cat? In September, not long after I moved in, we adopted a cat from the local shelter and named her Sylvanas. Three weeks later, I announced that we had returned her with little explanation other than insisting that it was a personal decision and nothing that she had done. Someone even commented that I shouldn’t have adopted a cat if I hadn’t been planning on keeping her. Over the months, I had thought about writing about what happened, but resisted. Now that we have two more pets, though, I figured it was time. Let me start by saying this: Sylvanas was an amazing kitty. She was extremely affectionate, and though she had been a stray, she warmed up to us very quickly, and insisted upon snuggling, purring, and kneading our legs the moment we sat down. We adored her and we still miss her, and not a day goes by that I don’t feel guilty about what happened. I wish she was here, however, I don’t regret giving her up.
I’ve thought about going into great detail about what happened; I even wrote it all out. Eventually, though, I changed my mind, mainly because I don’t owe anyone anything. It’s just that the comment that that one person made has always stayed on my mind. The thing is, though, is that we always planned on keeping her. It wasn’t as if we went to the shelter with the idea, “Hey, let’s adopt a cat, and if we like it, we’ll keep it!” No, we fully intended to keep Sylvanas for the rest of her life. So why didn’t we? It was because of nothing she did; as I said before, she was an extremely sweet, loving cat. We didn’t keep her because my anxiety, which had been lying dormant since returning from Montréal, flared up with a vengeance, and every day I was reduced to panic and anxiety attacks. It was the first time in my life that I decided to put my mental health first instead of shoving it under the rug, and I did it because I knew Sylvanas deserved better. I wanted her to be happy and loved with a family who could give her the amount of time and attention she needed and deserved. So we did what we thought was best. And all I can do is hope that she was adopted by a family who gives her the love and attention she deserves?
Does this make me a bad person? I don’t think so, though I do still feel guilty about what happened. As my anxiety has lessened, we decided we were ready for guinea pigs. And so far, so good! We love them. They’re a bit shy, but I can relate, so it all works out.
In other news, Theo and I drove up to Kentucky over Memorial Day weekend to give my mom B.B., my little yellow car, as I now have my Kia Soul. Theo got to meet my Aunt Carol for the first time, and we all got to hang out, and it was just dandy.
