EVER.
My professional life was in disarray. Gained a lot of weight. Lost friends. Finances in shambles. Mental state barely keeping up.
In short, it was not my lucky year.
And I didn’t have a black cat back then.
Fast forward to 2022 and Hiro, my black half-exotic, half-Persian cat, not only brought me ‘luck’ but also these three life-enriching realizations of having a black cat as pet:
Luck is a state of mind
Personally, it reeks of racism.
So back to luck being a state of mind, color has nothing to do with it.
It’s confirmation bias.
However, it’s a fact that colors do have psychological impact.
Seeing red triggers strong emotions. Green refreshes the mind. Yellow makes any infant cry. And blue, friendliness and Facebook.
Meanwhile, owing to the Philippines being under Spanish rule for 333 years, stumbling upon a black cat is considered bad luck here.
Well, screw that.
Since confirmation bias is the true and only acceptable cause of association (decided by me), I perceived black cats from the standpoint of Japanese and Scottish lore: black cats bring prosperity.
Black cats are impervious to inflation.
Today, while most people still associate black cats with bad luck, I see elegance, silent confidence and strong purchasing power every time Hiro greets me. It took me a few days getting used to a pair of ember eyes staring at me from the shadows during the wee hours. At first it was creepy but later on it’s super cute.
Black cats as a pet = a preview of parenting hell
Separated from his mom and two siblings, he cried all night on his first day in my place.
Distractions utilized include playing his cat wand with him. Made him chase pet balls and laser lights. Tempted him with treats, etc.
They didn’t last as this environment was new and causing him anxiety.
The meowing lasted for hours. My headache, more so. I couldn’t focus at work even with noise-cancelling earphones on.
Eventually, the animal grew tired of screaming (Finally!) and settled.
But that was just the beginning of the ‘adjustment’ period for me (a.k.a hell).
While I was warned beforehand of the messiness that entails with owning a pet cat, attending to the animal’s litter took me a week to be OK with.
It was a nasty piece of sh*t.
Literally.
Every time.
One of the minor pros of the pandemic is the abundance of face masks. And it made the ordeal somehow bearable.
I live in a small space so I’m scooping twice daily or I'd suffer ‘perfumed’ air.
Disclaimer: Cat sh*ts are not that pungent especially with a well-maintained litter box. I just have sensitive nose.
Next, scratches and bites became the new normal.
At this point, I didn’t care if the previous ones already healed or not, for new ones will come as surely as those pesky monthly bills.
But something happened on his 3rd month with me.
I was loving every bit of it.
The inconveniences paled before the joy every time Hiro sleeps next to me.
Hearing his purring relaxes me.
His sweet calls when I return home is pure happiness.
Feeling his silky hair and warm squishy body when I cuddle him like a baby sends my oxytocin into overdrive.
He keeps me engaged during the boring parts of the day.
The anticipation of coming home every time I’m running or cycling is nothing short of climactic.
For the first time in my solitary life, I’m not alone. There’s a squishy creature waiting for me at home.
For years, I’ve always thought that nobody could deal living with me in the same space. Not only my mood is unpredictable, I’m also very particular with how things are in my territory (e.g. Outside clothes are forbidden to touch the bed!).
But Hiro didn’t give an F.
He constantly invades my personal space and time.
He bathes himself in my bed.
I yelled.
He nibbles my phone and laptop wires.
I yelled again.
He turns on the faucet by himself.
I yelled some more.
I grew tired of yelling and took the liberty of cat proofing the room.
Fifth month living with Hiro and things have become somewhat peaceful. (He still jumps into my work table unannounced and so I’m still yelling once in a while).
Having a pet cat taught me to be patient. That things get better once you open yourself to change. To compromise in order to experience the good side.
And that it’s OK to be uncomfortable in the beginning as it’s part of the process.
Black is gorgeous
How the light reflects his silky coat and contrasts in the surroundings.
He was a legit night mare in dazzling sunshine.
Since then I always had a soft spot for animals that come in pure black; snakes, jaguars and of course, cats! Look at these:
