I know the title sounds a bit crazy, but just bear with me. Maybe by the end of this, you'll understand why they hold such a special place in my heart.
In a couple previous posts I've made, I talked about the abusive relationship I was trapped in for 8 years, but I didn't really go too much into detail about what I actually experienced. I'll save most of the details for another post, and focus this one on these two.
Itchy and Scratchy were both rescues in a way.
I found Itchy on Craigslist back in 2009. An older woman had posted about the litter of kittens her cat had just given birth to. She was selling them… and out of the litter, there were 2 all white, a calico, and an all black kitten (Itchy).
She had said in her post that the small black kitten was not for sale since he was black and was sure to bring nothing but bad luck to anyone he came in contact with. She was going to take him to a local shelter that was known for killing animals. She didn't even want to give him a chance.
I contacted her, and told her I'd be glad to pay double just to take him. She tried talking me out of it, saying that he was sure to ruin my life with the bad omen he carried around with him. (I wish I was making this up. This woman LEGITIMATELY thought he was some kind of demon cat.) But I wouldn't budge. Eventually, she said if I wanted him that bad, I could have him for free.
3 years later, I met Scratchy. My ex had a co-worker who owned a cat, and she had a pretty hefty litter of kittens herself. I think there were like, 8 kittens total. Scratchy was the runt of the litter, and no one would take him. The owner had decided that Scratchy wasn't going to make it. He was a runt, after all. He couldn't eat right, and required being fed by a syringe. (You know those plastic ones that you give children amoxicillin to? Those ones.) He was too little to climb into the litterbox. Etc. He had a million and one reasons as to why this tiny, helpless kitten needed to be put down. I took him in, with all his responsibilities and needs, and within 2 days was eating solid food and using his tiny litterbox (that I made out of a small cardboard box) all on his own.
I developed a bond with these two over time… a bond that felt closer than I ever thought imaginable. They were so goofy. They made me laugh with their ridiculous antics. When I'd get home from work, or the grocery store, they would meow frantically in excitement and climb all over me. Purring. Itchy would even climb on me and sit on my shoulder, like a parrot. Any time I'd go to the bathroom, they'd both sit outside the door, meowing and scratching at the wood until I'd let them in.
As I mentioned, I was in a violent, abusive relationship for 8 years. He had taken me away from my home in Missouri to Minneapolis, Minnesota. I had no friends. No family. All I had were my cats.
Any time an incident would happen, they were always there. Both of them. Curled up next to me as I cried into their fur. Licking my face… purring… comforting me. They would even sit there and let me dress them up in stupid hats for my own amusement, just to put a smile on my face. They never seemed to mind. During one of the attacks, Itchy actually got hurt because he had tried to attack my ex. I had never seen a cat protect a human being like that before.
One night, the worst of all the incidents happened. My ex and I had got into a heated argument about something so trivial and stupid that I don't even recall what started it. I just remember him pulling out his gun on me.
I was sitting on the couch when he came back up from the basement. He grabbed me by the neck with one hand and slammed my head into the wall behind me. With the other hand, he had his gun, and he pressed it against my forhead. He looked me dead in the eyes and said "You will NEVER leave me. If you do, I will fucking kill you. DO YOU UNDERSTAND. I WILL CUT YOU INTO SMALL PIECES, SPREAD HALF OF THEM THROUGHOUT THE STATE, AND THE OTHER HALF I'LL SEND TO YOUR FAMILY. YOU WILL NOT FUCKING LEAVE ME. EVER."
He dropped the gun on the cushion next to me and was now squeezing my neck with both hands, and after a moment, I blacked out…
When I came back to, I ran back upstairs to our room and locked myself in there for the remainder of the evening. I made a decision that night.
I was going to take my own life.
I had it all planned out. I was going to take a bottle of sleeping pills and a bottle of Tylenol. I was done, and couldn't find a way out. I had nothing. No one. I was completely alone. And I just… couldn't take life anymore.
After my ex went to bed, I went into the bathroom and locked the door. I sat in there for about 20 minutes (although it seemed like decades) thinking about my family. My brothers and sister. My parents. I was isolated and wasn't allowed to contact them. They hadn't heard from me in years. They probably thought I hated them. I felt like I had somehow let them down by allowing this to happen. I thought about my life, the life I wanted, and the life I actually had. I thought about my relationship, and couldn't help but feel like all of this was happening to me because I had ALLOWED it to.
I was done. I didn't want to feel anymore. I didn't want to cry, or hurt, or fear. I was done.
As I stared at the bottles on the sink, I decided it was time. And as if on cue, I heard scratches at the door...
I tried to ignore them. But every meow, every scratch… it felt as though they got louder each time. I caved and finally let them in. I decided that I'd have one more tearful cuddle with both of them on the bathroom floor before I "go".
While laying on the cold ceramic tiles, Itchy curled up next to my head, Scratchy in my arms… I felt this warmth come over me. I can't explain it. But it's as if something was telling me I couldn't give up. They needed me as much as I needed them. The purrs, the soft little mews they'd let out every few minutes, they distracted me from the emotional and physical pain I was in, and they made me feel like everything was going to somehow be ok. We stayed there like that for a while. I'm not sure how long, but it was long enough for me to fall asleep for a bit.
When I finally escaped, I couldn't bring them with me… and it absolutely broke my heart. Even now I get teary-eyed thinking about how I couldn't bring them with. That's a long story in itself, that I will save for another day. But I will never forget these two. They were my only friends when I had no one. They gave me a reason to get through the day. They saved my life... and they will both hold a special place in my heart until my final breath. I will never meet another cat, or another animal for that matter, that will mean as much to me as they do. Even though they're no longer a part of my life, I will forever be grateful for the time I had with them, and for everything they did for me.
"Until one has loved an animal, a part of one's soul remains unawakened." -- Anatole France