I’m revealing too much and revealing personal aspects that most will never care about. I was emotionally autistic as a youth. I like to suggest that I’m no longer that way… I was however up until my teens. It basically entailed a few things. I had a hard time with eye contact, I was afraid to touch people, and I developed late, the ability to speak (I was 5 years old). One day though, my mother and I decided to bring a simple little cat into our lives and it was profound for me. Whether it was a matter of the qualities and gentleness of the creature or a matter of timing and therapy that I was in desperate need for — it had a profound effect on me.

It provoked me. Allowed me to finally communicate emotionally. I felt sensibilities I had never felt before. Such as, I hope she’s okay, What the hell is she doing?, I don’t feel too lonely with her around, This is actually kind of fun, and She seems to like me.

These are small gestures. Small aspects of life but for someone who was lacking, these little things actually meant the world to me at the time. Family members noticed the change in me. Even my friends. I fear no one will ever understand the desperation and need I had and the void that small animal filled. I’ve always considered Winnie, the cat, my saving grace. Bless her.

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