In a previous post I spoke about my ongoing battle with my mental health. It still fluctuates hugely, but when I’m remembering to take my medication I can begin to see myself flattening out (it’s a shame I have exactly none left). One thing that has been discussed in my friendship group is how animals can affect our mood.
The happiest I remember being was in secondary school, where I lived with my parents and we had a wonderful Staffordshire bull terrier and a grumpy black cat. It’s easy to say that my mood was better because life was simple and I didn’t have the stress of adult life (namely…finances). But I did also have two pets. Fast forward to university where I felt my first true low and I had…no pets. Money was obviously a stress for me, but actually in hindsight I was much better off financially then than I am now and I found budgeting pretty easy.
My short stint in Maidenhead I was also pretty happy, despite being really poor, and living with a big ol’ pooch.
Now, one of the most recent additions to my life has been a wonderful silver tabby named Ayra/ Arya/ Aya (who knows) and I have to say that even a few minutes with the feline does result in a significant mood boost. She seems to always know when you’re upset and it’s wonderful that she’s so obsessed with human interaction – I definitely hit the jackpot with this cats’ personality. Considering I’m not much of a cat person, it was quite nice that she turned out to be far more dog-like than any cat I’ve met.
There’s no doubting that she helps to improve my mood and lift me out of some dark places. Perhaps it’s because she doesn’t, often, talk back and just accepts my love. Perhaps it’s the weird way she licks me with her absolutely disgusting sandpaper tongue to let you know she appreciates the strokes. Or the way she gallops to the door whenever you get in (most ungraceful/soft footed cat ever). Whatever the reason, I’m so happy that she’s in my life, even if she does cover the whole world in her fur.
Natalie x
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