Punky

Warning: if you're very sensitive about animal abuse, my mentioning of how my cat was treated before I got her might upset you, although I don't give a lot of details.

My cat is weird. She is also the most wonderful cat I've ever had. Math and I adopted her from a shelter 5 years ago. We went to a shelter I had already been to, that sadly no longer exists. The family working there was awesome, they'd take wonderful care of the animals and would just keep the ones that no one wanted. I asked the owner once how many cats she had and she didn't know. They kept all the cat in a house in the suburbs, away from the main roads. They would let most of them wander free, and would keep in cages only the newcomers before they got tested by the vet for diseases, and the stray cats they'd capture to get neutered.

We had planned to get a young cat. We didn't want a kitten, first because they're cute but a bit wild and would probably had made a living hell of our small apartment, but mostly because you can't predict how a kitten will turn out and a super energetic cat would have been miserable in our flat, whereas it could be a cosy heaven for a calm, indoor cat.

So yeah, young cat, 9 months to a year was the goal. And we saw her. She was a mess of tangled dirty hair. She was one of the few to be in a cage. She looked absolutely pathetic and miserable. The owner took her out of the cage and held her in her arms and she started purring. We were told that she was a scared, complicated cat because of the abuse she had gone through. They took her from a home were she was beaten, and “fell off” the 3rd floor balcony. Her hip bone broke when she fell and her owners didn't bother take her to the vet. Then she was adopted by a nice couple. But the guy decided not long after to take a big dog, so they decided that the cat would live on the balcony. The shelter made a surprise visit and when they saw that, they took her back.

She was 5 years old and people weren't really interested in adopting a broken adult cat. The owner told us that she needed time to adjust to new places and people but that she was the most loving creature ever. We both felt that we simply had to take her. We called her Punky, because of her spiky dirty hair.

She indeed needed a lot of time to adjust. But she indeed is the most loving cat. She isn't the kind of cat you can pick up randomly to cuddle and play with. She'd just scratch your hand and go away. But she loves being around us. And when she decides she wants a cuddle, she's the warmest purring ball of fur. And you know that it's a genuine sign of affection.

She isn't spiky anymore. She is a bit dirty because she can't bend most of the time to wash herself entirely. We shower her once in a while but she hates being brushed, so we have to shave her dreadlocks from time to time. Her spine is crooked, she walks a bit funny. She can't jump very high, sometimes she tried pathetically to scratch her neck and I come to scratch her instead. When she sleeps she had strong spasms in her rear legs. The vet has seen her and said that there was little to be done but that it wasn't worrying.

Sometimes I wonder if she's in pain. It wouldn't be surprising but no one can tell. She's a little broken thing, a bit like me.