A few years ago, I was in the middle of my first year teaching, just barely afloat. I'm sure most of you have heard the saying "the first year's the hardest" - it's 100% truth. I remember calling my mom crying sometime during my second week just not sure how I could do this for a whole year. Of course it gets a bit easier as you get the hang of things like discipline and keeping kids engaged- you learn what works and doesn't work for your classroom. You also get huge burn out. You're exhausted- drained in a way that you've never experienced.
I was also a little bit lonely.
None of my best friends from college had wound up in the metroplex yet. I moved between three schools each day and therefore had just a few work friends. I had been desperately looking for a church and had finally found the Village, but was yet to really plug into my amazing home group that would become my family for the coming years.
I went to school. Came home. Went to bed. And repeated.
That cycle gets hard after a while.
So I thought it would be really nice to have something/someone to come home to. *insert Christian dating joke here*
 |
| Han gets it. Han always gets it. |
No, I just wanted a cat. (Side note: love dogs, didn't want to have one locked up inside an apartment all day.) I had looked around for a few months and on a trip back to Waco, my mom and I visited
Fuzzy Friends - an amazing no kill animal shelter.
There are several, free roaming cat rooms with a dozen or so cats each. You can wander around and just play with any cat that'll have you. This time, in a separate area, there was this funny-looking cat that had been shaved in a cage all by himself. We thought maybe he had a skin disease or didn't play nicely with others. We started talking to an employee who said, "My favorite's Zorro, he's the sweetest" and motioned to the weirdo in the corner. As soon as I opened the cage door, he had his front paws up on my shoulder and was meowing in my face. It was over. I didn't even pick him- Zorro made his choice very clear. He picked me.
Zorro was an amazing cat, right from the start. I think he might have thought he was a dog. He loved people and always wanted to be near to you, sometimes to a fault. ;) Every night when I came home, he's be right there jumping up on me and meowing like crazy before the front door was closed. He truly was what finally made my apartment into a little home of its own.
He had some health problems about year into my having him during which I found out that he was either hit by a car when he was younger or suffered some other great trauma that left him with a diaphragmatic hernia. He had to go on special food to help his poor, messed-up innards deal with digestion, but other than that, he was healthy and happy like always.
He did shed like crazy though, so for the summer he got a haircut. Luckily, he had no idea how silly he looked.
Every time he had to go into the vet, the techs always marveled at how he was the most easy-going and friendliest cat they'd ever met. He'd routinely rub his head against the nurses and purr while they were giving him a shot.
When I moved away to England, my mom really wanted to send Zorro with me as a present, but it's actually extremely difficult to get a pet into the UK. I didn't want to subject such a good-natured creature to months of quarantine. So he went to live with his grandparents in Waco where he loved it. (I think he fell in love with my dad more than he ever loved me, but I don't hold it against him. My dad's pretty great.) He was also great with my two nieces- extremely patient with toddler "petting" and the like. The more people that were on the couch, the more he needed to be touching all of them at once.
My first trip back home after moving abroad was Christmas 2013 and the first thing I did upon entering our house was take a picture with Zorro. He was shell-shocked at my return, as you can see.
We took more selfies later though:
Fast forward to a month or so ago when my mom let me know that Zorro wasn't doing well. He wasn't eating well and was lethargic and having digestion issues. My vet had warned me could eventually happen with his injuries. He lost four pounds very quickly and stopped eating all together.
He was in a lot of pain.
It's that really sucky time that you always have to deal with when it comes to owning a pet. I'm really thankful for my parents, that they were there in Zorro's last weeks, days, and minutes, loving and caring for him just as good as I could have. I hate that I never really got to say goodbye. But it's more important not to be selfish in situations like this. It's important to end suffering.
When I think about Zorro, I think about becoming an adult. A real adult who started out on her own in a new city, grew a support net, chased after the Lord, followed her passion, worked her butt off, made difficult and scary decisions- all with a cat snuggled up next to her as close as he could get.
Zorro, who didn't care if I got the role or was saving enough money or had a boyfriend or didn't eat any vegetables for a week. Zorro, who only cared that I loved him. And he loved me. That's all you can ask for. Being loving to him today was difficult, but it was right.
To Zorro- I love you.
