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his life would be short and miserable, but Ben kept him. Buster is four and healthy
when we meet. As Buster knocks over my drink and later pees on my clothes, I fall
hard for the man who has a heart capable of taking care of a sick kitten. Now, when
I’m feeling particularly sad or anxious, I ask Ben why he loves me – the loudest refrain
of our marriage. The times when my depression and anxiety and self-loathing take
control, I can’t understand why anyone would stick with me for as long as he has.
He always says, “I love how you are with animals, how you light up, your whole body
changes, your face – everything.”
***
At four weeks, black girl and tabby boy discover water and soft kitten food
mixed with formula. We are all covered in mush. They start to wrestle. I move them
to the bathroom because this is the disaster zone stage when they have diarrhea from
weaning and stand in their food and it’s time to learn the litter box, too. Sometimes
they get confused and try to eat the litter and pee in their food. I fall asleep on the
floor as the two of them form a single, curled fur ball on my chest.
Black girl and tabby boy survive. I name them Eowyn and Neville though
Eowyn eventually becomes Biscuit. We all play hard to get stronger – the unlikely
heroes.
But when we meet, you will ask me if I have children. I will say no. You’ll ask
why. I won’t say it used to be a choice, but it isn’t anymore. I will deflect by telling you
I have animals. You will tell me it’s not the same. You will ask me how many animals
I have and when I tell you eight, you will call me one of those crazies. Cat lady. You’ll
say I don’t look like one of those people, or I do look like one of those people, or you
should have guessed. You’ll tell me I’ll understand one day – one day when I have a
baby.
Ellen Harris is a 22-year-old history of art graduate from University
College London. Born in the darkest depths of rural mid Wales, her art
and poetry is influenced as much by the tremors of city life as it is by her
three favourite ladies, Charlotte Mew, Amy Lowell and Wendy Cope.
Ellen hopes to one day have a published anthology all of her own.