AJAX: Love Purrs
Trigger Warning: Suicide/OD mentions; Assault mention
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After my rabbit died in High School, I was distraught. I felt like a part of my soul had been ripped apart. I threw myself into my work and focused on my career ignoring any and everyone who claimed to love me...that is until Jax appeared in my life.
I walked into the doors of my new home, an activist house mind you. It was my first time renting a place on my own. As I entered, I saw this cat meowing vigorously at me. Silently, I keeled down, looked at him and said "I see your soul" and it was beautiful. Ever since then, Jax and I was connected.
. . .
Jax was placed in the house because his previous companion became houseless. I didn't think I had the ability to love another soul up until that point. My heart ached for this cat, he would sit in a closet afraid to come out. Struck with ear-mites and no one was treating him. Hell, to my surprise Jax was pooping on the roof because of the aggressive nature of the other cats in the house. He was unwanted until he found me.
Sleeping on the couch in the dark in the middle of night, I came back from a Green Party event, called him, brought him into my room, and shared my bed with him.
That night I made a concrete decision; I would love him. Now I'd be happy if the story ended here, but thats never the case. I was dealing with PTSD manifesting itself as well as my Anxiety Disorder. I remember one day someone had left the front door open and I began to panic.
Rushing upstairs checking under beds and in restrooms running downstairs checking under my bed...rushing back upstairs, then down, then up, then down crying hysterically because I thought I lost my friend. My mind shifted into dangerous territory, "Why would this happen to me?! Why open myself up just for this!" I was afraid. Luckily, Jax was just outside around the house. I brought him in and promptly messaged the housemates to keep the door closed.
Over time, I began learning Jax's language. Sitting and watching him interact with his environment I began to understand why Jax stood in front of doorways, how his tail moved when he was feeling different emotions. In a way, I traded my human emotional stability to recognize his. At the same time, Jax was learning to deal with me.
The random dancing, the singing, the kitty massages all led to something special between us: a genuine friendship. I remember the first time Jax refused to scratch me. I was dancing with him in the kitchen and he gave me that look like he was about to cut me. Slowly, he put his paw on my nose, staring me down. I put him down in a heartbeat and laughed it off, appreciative that he didn't cut me (does that only sound weird to me? Is this a cat thing? I don't know.)
. . .
To be clear, things got really worse for me before that became better. I developed an intimate relationship with a housemate (BIG MISTAKE) and was heavily abused and assaulted because of it. They had cheated on me after discussing boundaries in order to make a "point." Of course, I was not in the right mind for sexual relationship having panic attacks nearly every day and no memory for weeks, however, I woke up one day realizing the person I grew close with, told my secrets too had someone in their bedroom when mine was right down stairs. It absolutely broke me and I became suicidal. I left the house for 4 days in order to be away from them, traveling to another activist house in the meantime.
At some point, I came back for Jax, hoping to move in for a longer period of time. I was not in a good place and needed support. Jax, of course didn't mind. He thought it was an adventure. However, there were two cats in that house and they definitely did not like him. I remember one time in the middle of the night I heard a blood curdling scream come from Jax because he was so afraid.
I had to make a choice: Go back to the place that caused me so much pain, or force Jax to suffer. I sacrificed my safety for Jax and was subsequently assaulted by the housemate.
. . .
The next few days I don't remember. I just remember that I had strep throat without pennicilin so my throat was shut, my brain was fried, and oh yeah it was Halloween. How I remember that you may ask? Well the house threw a party and...Jax got out.
I was alone, in chronic pain, suicidal and couldn't even drink water. It was time to get hospitalized...Since I've had my psychological breakdown, I been able to communicate with Jax more effectively.
He really missed me when I was gone and we initially went from pets, to cuddles, to kisses (cat kisses are rubbed via cheeks) to walks together. We met on the stairwell when I came back from the hospital and he assured me with full confidence I have his soul and I did my best, even though I wasn't "there" to show him he had mine. The first night I came back I tried ODing and I couldn't singly because of Jax. It hurt too much to think I'd leave him again.
I left the house after the 2016 election to Oakland. Jax was with me every step of the way, however, it was difficult finding refuge for him. I was sleeping on couches, insecure about when and how long I could have housing.
Unfortunately the universe gave me an impossible decision. Remain homeless, in debt, no work or school. Or lose Jax. I tried for 2 months to avoid the inevitable and then a door swung open. I could give Jax temporary refuge in Southern California. So I rented a car and drove a total of 12 hours to make sure he was safe. He was happy seeing my home as a young adult. Able to roam freely and share my bed. I kept feeling hurt knowing he didn't understand that I'd be gone for so long. I haven't been without him for more than a few days. He saw me packing and followed me around. This was my last picture with Jax until I saw him again 5 months later.
Its always nice to be with Jax. When I finished with college that semester, I rushed back to him. He was shocked to see me; I woke up to him laying right next to me. Waiting patiently for me. I slept for 13 hours that day, letting the energy of the sun heal me, my dream catcher protect me. It feels good to be in a safe environment. One in which I can heal. It feels good.
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Sometimes Jax amazes me. His sentience is profound; I can feel the culmination of his experiences. This is one of our most candid moments: him laying on my belly gazing into the morning light. It was as if he was truly happy, that all the things he suffered in this life led up to this moment. A breath of sunshine. I love Jax, not out of a selfish whim, nor because I'm emotionally ready. I love Jax because he is a soul worth loving. The beauty of his heart. The kindness in his touch. The moments of sheer annoyance and calmness all make me feel more alive. I am blessed that such a being found me worthy of love in this life.
One of my mantras that has gotten me through this stage of my life is "Actions, Not Words" define our character. As a survivor, part of my healing is telling my story. When I think negatively of myself, I think about what I mean to my cat. That I, an asshole who is not financially stable, whose housing situation is unsure, who had previously abandoned the prospect of taking care of another living being, saw how much love he had and the need to feel it returned, chose to adopt him. I didn't "want" to adopt Jax. I struggled with the decision for some time. But it wasn't about me at all. It was about this soul who needed love and I, a being of light, could not sleep denying this to him when it was somewhat in reach of my power. It is our actions, not our beliefs, not our feelings, not our words that spark our nature. And while I feel like I'm a very cold person, externally. I, through Jax, understand that I am full of love. I do not know what will happen in the future. I may have to give him up. But so long as I can feed us, he will be under my care. Because I love this cat. Because all beings who want nothing but to love don't go out into the world hating people on their own. They hate because the world taught them to hate. They grow cold because that's the only way they can survive. They don't want to be cold. They don't go out of their way to hurt people. If anything, they blame themselves. So I say cut the bullshit. If we, compassionate people, are not willing to change our entire lives to protect those who want nothing but to love, we have no right to consider ourselves compassionate. If our compassion only lends ourselves to fleeting moments then suggest you "feel" love. Not you "are" love. And I want to be love. So I will change. And loving Jax was a big step for me to do so.
My entire time in the animal rights community can be summed up by my love for my cat, Jax. I took him in when my housemates closed their doors to him. He was alone. Being fed out of a bag his original handlers left for him, sleeping and spending his days in a closet, away from everyone. While I was still suffering from the wounds of seeing my rabbit die in my arms, I was not ready to take on another life. But Jax had no one else. No one loved him. So I ripped open the stitches in my heart and let him in. Because I know with with every fiber of my being: my arms are Jax's home. That no matter where I go or how long I take, Jax will be waiting for me, faithfully.I love this animal with all my heart. After all, love is giving your soul to another person and what better way to show someone you love them than walking back into Hell so they can feel safe? Although we are different, my love transcends gender, race, religion, class, ability and species. All I see is the soul of a person. Jax is my best friend and I've dedicated my life to him. Non-human Animals are people too and I'm so very blessed (pun on his name, God is gracious) to have Jax in my life. Everyone loves this cat because he is so kind, gentle and gorgeous. He is my lion, my moo-cat, my Bubbies, my stinky butt, and my best friend. He calls my arms home. And I him.
I love Jax with all my heart and owe my life to him. Our relationship is so strong now hes sitting by my side even while I write this. I allow him to stay outside and I'll call out and he comes running towards me to come in the house. He stuck with me regardless of whether I was on a couch or a motel, whether the places I stayed at had hostile cats or not, he never gave up on me. I don't like leashes or collars. I believe animals should be free and I give Jax that freedom as much as I can. He voluntarily wants to be with me, and I him.
and I him...
And I him. <3