Dual Feelings

It started years ago - #powerlessness A lady aged who knew she didn't have that long left to live was desperately looking for someone to take her beloved hangover into her home. It's a rather special animal, a Bengali hangover. On their bottom, they have a beautiful light beige color. At the top, she is striped and has beautiful semicircular figures on the flanks of her body. This hangover is significantly stronger than our regular domestic cats. It has a firmer structure with its body and legs. We couldn't take him inside, we thought, because of our three Karin and who could walk around all over the apartment. But none of them fired saw it sitting to take the super sturdy animal inside. So we agreed that we would continue to bring the hangover in the garden of the recently deceased female food every day. My husband did want to take on this task. So he went to feed this cat every day. But one day, in the kitchen at one of our cats' food bowls, we discovered the Bengali hangover. He had followed my husband and apparently also our cats who were banging in by the window. At first, the hangover was very anxious. But when he noticed that he was getting no opposition, he was nibbling at a dinner plate every night and then went outside the window again. But one day, she suddenly became very bold. Spoekie, the carinnet was lying close to me while watching the television. When suddenly like an arrow from a bow, the Bengali hangover jumped on the carinnet. She had apparently decided to raise her territory from our living room. Because of the cardboard, we still found this not to be done. But when we kept the window closed on purpose, she began meowing so compassionately on a high note for hours at a time that you had to be compassionate about it. That's why we decided to accept it inside our living room It wasn't nice for the cardboard. Because from then on they were no longer allowed to enter the living room. We thought the apartment is big enough and they have a whole lot of rooms and a garden to stay in. The hangover that we had promoted to Boenk naturally loved having a home again. Because our cats no longer wanted to go into the litter box, we had removed them. But Boenk, who we called that because he gave my arm a big push every time he wanted to eat, made it clear that she wanted a litter box desirable by leaving a lacquer on the divan and crying a lot. The poor animal had lived outside for six months. We could see this from a thick layer of black sand that was snapped under her hair. I don't know how that got there. But we had a lot of picking before she was completely relieved of it. The layer did not appear after. Boenk then profiled herself as the most affectionate cat you could imagine. She always comes to sit close to me when she's awake and wants to be crawled under her chin. She sleeps a lot in the day. It's a real night cat. And one night we heard a panicky meowing from Poeki at the back of the apartment. Boenk would have been so smart to take a long detour past some apartments to get into the back of our garden. Apparently, under the door, she had caught the smell of the cats. And had been so smart to find them in a detour. She had attacked Spoeki. All right, I had heard it then and I was able to intervene with loud shouting. But last week, to my great grief, she attacked the other carintsman. Not so little bit. I'm still upset about it. She bit Zazu's little head so hard that it was dented. The animal did not survive. What to do now? Do you understand the duality of my emotions? On the one hand, I hate what happened to Zazuke. On the other hand, I have to think it's just an animal. It's in its nature. Maybe he just wanted to pounce the carinette for reproduction and didn't bite them, but fell hard from the chair in which she was lying to the ground. You couldn't actually detect a wound on the outside. It can also be our fired tgo our garden that hates cats and absolutely cannot bear them walking through his garden. I can't say for sure. Really angry with the Bengali hangover I can't be and neither with the neighbor. Because most likely he didn't hit at it with anything either. I don't know if he's capable of doing that and don't dare ask him. For the rest, life just goes on. Like every night, the Bengali hangover flatters himself close to me and asks for some indulgence. Poekie is alone now. But she won't mind this either. Because after six months, Zazu, her mother, thought it was nice and that she should take care of her food herself. She, too, wanted Poeki to find another teritorium. From then on, I suddenly realized why people love little kittens to be out of the house after about six months. Cats don't think like a human at all. Their maternal love is fierce right after the birth of their little ones. But it apparently takes a turn to indifference after about six months. At least that's how I experienced this. So emotions can also be dual and very frustrating .