Back in 2008 I and my ex had been trying to get pregnant. I had several miscarriages and I was pretty sad. So I volunteered to foster some kittens. I got these two tiny baby kittens from a high kill shelter and a whole "kitten saving" kit from the rescue.
I was supposed to give them away, but I fell in love.
10 years later I realize that they are basically the baby I didn't get to have. We've been through every up and down together. When I was very sick several times they were with close to me and never letting me out of their sights. I have always given up on things so they could have the best food and vet care, not like when I was a kid, and we couldn't afford it.
We lived with good people and bad people and it was only four years ago when the Siamese, Freya, got let out by my bad roommate and ended up dying of exposure a few months later when she was found.
I still have Loki and she is my best, most demanding kitty-child. And I am grateful for her and her new two new friends I adopted later.
As far as mental health goes - I think having a cat has saved me time and time again from just giving up, even at my worst. I often think I might do something bad - and then I think "Think of the Cats! Who is going to take care of them?" And they cuddle up with me, bug me, and barf on the rug, but they are still my cat-kids and that is ok.
