The Heroin Cat — An Analogy
[Intro]
I couldn’t tell you exactly when or how I came across this particular news headline one day, but I did: “Woman’s rescued ‘kitten’ turns out be wild puma.”
What I can recall was thinking, with warped amusement, well, if that’s not the quintessential example for “things not always being as they seem,” then I don’t know what is.
Because in life, some things really are not always as they seem. And as it turns out, sometimes homeless kittens are actually wild pumas.
[Analogy]
Navigating life with a heroin addiction is like adopting a homeless kitten… that turns out to be a wild puma.
Yes, you read that right! Now bear with me on this one, and try to imagine this as you read along:
In the very beginning, there was no worry or concern — only the warmth, which you immediately came to depend on. This new feline roommate of yours truly was an utter delight to you in every sense. Though far from providing “human” company, this seemingly innocent creature dutifully curled up next to you each and every night. And on the particularly cold, empty, lonesome nights, it kinda meant the world to you to feel the familiar warmth of your feline friend. The soft vibrations of their purrs lulled you into a state of utter relaxation.
This is just lovely, you thought to yourself. How… perfect.
…Rather quickly, however, you found yourself grappling with an unsettling realization. Perhaps it was the startlingly quick growth and now peculiarly large mass of your ‘cat’, or maybe it was the relentlessly defiant behavior that wouldn’t correct no matter what you tried. Regardless of what finally tipped you off, you had arrived at the ultimate conclusion: your rescue kitten was no ordinary house cat.
No doubt, your friends and family began to express grave concerns of their own about this “pet” companion of yours. Their complaints mostly centered around the obviously frightening factor that you’d adopted a fucking Puma as a pet. Because the likeness was undeniable now. And so they attempted to caution you — some of them even tried to give you an ‘out,’ by offering to help you find a proper home for your cat. They reiterated again and again what was already painfully obvious to you: that your cat was quickly becoming far too dangerous to play with and far too demanding to appease.
Their cautionings went completely unheeded by you, though. Because bizarrely enough, you still wanted to ‘make things work.’ You weren’t ready to give up the companionship you had found, even if it put yourself in danger. And so you tried to assure your loved ones that you were totally in control of the situation, and that you would be JUST fine. I just need more time to figure things out, you told yourself. You adamantly refused to resign yourself to more of those cold, lonely nights. And you were inundated with wistful nostalgia about the past — about the cute, harmless, cuddly kitten you once thought you had. You couldn’t let go of that image, either. In fact, every single day you wished that this terrifying creature would go back to being that sweet baby kitten. But it didn’t. It only got bigger.
You neglected friends, family, and other obligations to spend time with your pet cat, playing with it, hoping that might soften it up, domesticate it more… But this seemed to have the opposite effect, as it still became more and more aggressive by the day, blurring the lines between “play” and “kill.”
You then began to notice those same friends and family who once tried to caution you , were now starting to dodge your calls and ignore your texts. And you pretended that this didn’t hurt, that you didn’t feel misunderstood, that you didn’t give a shit, because who needed ‘em, right? you thought this to yourself, pacing your room and fighting back angry, lonely tears. And right on cue, you could hear your pet Puma growling hungrily in the other room.
And you KEPT trying to play everything off, like you were totally in control. But that delusion wouldn’t survive much longer though, because — F*CK! It had been just like any other day… you’d been trying to play gently with your “pet cat,” but somewhere along the line, it’s prey drive went… animalistic. It tore a huge gash all up and down your spine. You would’ve quickly bled out had you not managed to dial 911 just in time — and soon enough you were taken to an ER by ambulance, to be hospitalized for the foreseeable future.
During your stay, you could recall the ER nurses having an especially difficult time starting an IV properly, due to the insane amount of scarring and cuts which now covered most of the surface area of both forearms. Most disturbing of all, however, was the fact that the whole time you were recovering in the ICU, you couldn’t stop fretfully worrying about your “pet cat”— otherwise known as the creature that had almost ended your life.
Towards the end of your ICU stay, a couple of bold friends — who felt too much pity on you to do nothing once they got the news of what happened to you — took the opportunity to try to capture and cage your sharp-clawed pet; but alas. Your pet Puma was now far too large and mighty to be detained by two unsuspecting adults. And when those friends visited to tell you about their attempt, you became extremely spiteful. Hateful words spilled out of you like bitter bile. They just stared at you in astonishment, unable to wrap their minds around how you could still possibly defend sharing space with a creature that had become so lethal, and bloodthirsty. It was as if they couldn’t recognize you anymore. Hell, you couldn’t recognize you anymore either.
Once finally back home, you arrived at what appeared to be a post-tsunami disaster. In your extended absence, your wild cat had torn apart every single furniture piece in your apartment, ruined the carpets and flooring, made gashes in the drywall, destroyed some of the doors, eaten the entire contents of the fridge, freezer, and some of the cabinets… the list just went on and on.
After only walking a few paces, your stomach suddenly dropped, your entire body going cold. The ominous sound of a snarl led your gaze to a pair of glowing eyes further down an unlit hallway — eyes which belonged to the dark outline of a killer feline… in the crouched position.
It was then, after staring death right in the face, that the reality of your situation truly began setting in. It was then that you couldn’t be in denial any longer — either you were going to have to die, or this creature was. There was no other way.
And yes; this was something you needed to do. You weren’t going to try to hire somebody to come clean up your mistake. No, you were gonna have to fight this thing with your bare hands.
The odds? At this point, not in your favor.
But in your mind, there was no other way…
[End]
