This isn’t some animal rights rant about how animals should roam free and who are we to keep them for our own pleasure.  Nor is this a rant about animal welfare issues ‘if you can’t afford a 10 acre paddock for your Chihuahua with a princess castle dog hut then you shouldn’t have one in the first place’.  In fact, this isn’t a rant at all.  This is a story about a girl who was destined to be free of bad relationships.  Let’s say the girls name was Joanne.  It all started when Joanne was very young and had a dog.  The dog was a loving animal who let her ride on his back time and time again until eventually the dog’s back legs gave way and he was taken to see out the rest of his days “on the farm”.

That was that, no love lost, the dog had been nothing more than a toy to Joanne.  A disposable source of entertainment quickly replaced by another transient asset.  Joanne didn’t long for another pet and so remained petless.  Until, one day Joanne heard a cat crying in her garden.  Said cat was up a tree petrified.  Joanne coaxed the cat down and arranged for food and drink.  Having made enquiries with the locals, Joanne could not find a home for ‘Cat’.  And so Cat remained with joanne.  Cat was adorable, cuddly with a drool problem that left your neck soaking wet after said cuddling.  A bit yuk but a characteristic none the less.  And so Cat and joanne co-existed for many years.  Joanne feeding, caring and providing for Cat but never really considering herself to own Cat or for Cat to be her pet.  (Think Audrey Hepburn in ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’)

And then one day Cat moved on.  Cat moved to a neighbours’ house.  As quickly as it had arrived in Joanne’s life Cat  moved out.  Never to return again.  Joanne was not bothered, knowing that Cat must have had his reasons.  Perhaps they had better milk, perhaps they had other cats for Cat to play with.  Or maybe Cat was just ready for change.  Who was Joanne to question Cat.  She didn’t own him.  He was not her pet. They had simply stumbled across one another one day and so the relationship had worked for a while..

Joanne remained solo for many years.  Until one day Joanne’s father returned home from work with a cardboard box in hand.  ‘Look inside’, he said.  Peeking into the box with apprehension, Joanne let out a squeal, ‘oh he’s beautiful, my very own ginger pussy cat.  My first real pet!’ (Quickly forgetting her beloved dog and the companionship of Cat)

Simba was a beauty, taken from his mum far too young to avoid being disposed of, he needed extra attention and care.  Joanne provided the care and affection that would see Simba surviving his first few weeks in his new home.  Joanne soon let Simba venture beyond the house.  Oh and how he loved it.  Tearing around the garden, venturing beyond and bringing home delights on a regular basis.

After a few intense weeks of nurture, the relationship became very casual.  Simba appearing as and when he could be bothered checking in.  It worked.  Joanne didn’t need to pander to his needs anymore, he didn’t’ feel constrained by a timetable of dinner times and bed times.  After long weeks of missing each other due to their differing schedules, catching up on a Sunday afternoon became a treat for both of them.

And then it ended.  Samba stopped returning.  He was alive.  Joanne knew this.  She saw him around town.   Simba wearing a new red collar and strutting around like the boss.

There was no sadness.  It was a joyous moment.  Another relationship moving on.  Another pet finding its changing needs being met elsewhere.  Joanne could feel nothing but pride knowing that they had had their good times but that she could let go when the time was right.

But then the questions came.  ‘Where’s Simba?’  ‘Oh is that another cat that’s moved out on you?’  ‘What are you feeding them?’

And suddenly Joanne realised, maybe this wasn’t normal.  Maybe she just wasn’t; fit for the job.  Of course it’s a bad sign when your pet moves out.  That cannot be a good thing.  Maybe she should have fought harder to keep them – locked them indoors, asked the neighbours to stop feeding them, bought more toys.

After much pondering she came to realise that some people just shouldn’t have pets.  Not her – she is the perfect pet owner.  Those people that shouldn’t have pets are the ones who keep them beyond the duration of the relationship.  A relationship with a pet is like that with another human. Its fluid and ever changing.  Keeping a pet when the relationship has moved on is like being stuck in a stale marriage.  It may look good on the outside and prevents the questions (as above – what did you do wrong this time).  But it’s not right.  Joanne learned that more people should be true to themselves and just let their cat go when it’s time to move on.  And to the judgey judgersons, they should probably apply this to all their relationships.  If it just isn’t right anymore, move on.  Don’t try to lock someone indoors and lavish them with great toys/milk/treats of any description – they will only end up wandering to the neighbours during the night behind your back.

Regardless of how you decide to treat your relationships, you should never judge the crazy cat lady who has a high turnover!  She might just have method behind her madness.