I’ve lived some pretty sketchy places. Most people would probably say, “Of course you have. You lived in the Bronx.” But honestly, the Bronx wasn’t bad at all. I always felt safe there. The only place I have ever lived that I really thought smelled a little murdery on a daily basis was my apartment in Oklahoma City senior year of college.
We got a really great deal on the apartment since they had recently emptied all of the buildings in the complex to get rid of the crack dealers and Meth heads. I don’t know how well it really worked. I mean sure, there weren’t very many people living near us, but there were still signs that the place had recently been a drug den.
The saddest sign we saw was the cats. There were tons of stray cats around our apartment, and they all seemed to be just a little deformed. I don’t know if they had accidently licked some cocaine or if they had been exposed to Meth chemicals, but there was something not right about them.
One afternoon, we found the tiniest little crack kitten, and I just couldn’t let her stay outside. I brought her into the apartment, and we bathed her and loved her. She couldn’t stay with us, but I found her a home with a good friend. Unfortunately, the emotional scarring from crack kitty’s early kittenhood did not disappear even when we found her a happy forever home.
Her new mommy woke up one morning to crack kitty meowing on her comforter, which was covered in blood. There was a trail of blood down the hall and to the bathroom. My friend was horrified. Who had been murdered in her apartment while she slept? The remains of the battle lay strewn on the bathroom floor. Crack kitty had stolen her razor, fought with it, slitting her paws, and then proceeded to bleed everywhere. Either she was a war hero, or wanted to end it all. We gave her the benefit of the doubt until we were visiting a few weeks later.
She tried to play with us for a while, but then, when it was too much for her, she leaped into the blinds and hanged herself with the cord. We ran over and rescued her, but our concerns for her mental health were confirmed.
I am grateful to say that crack kitty survived the struggle to overcome her troubled past. She is now a healthy and productive member of feline society. Proof positive that it does get better, even if her paws and ears are still too big for her body.