Consolation Kitty.




We have a consolation kitty. As in,

"I'm sorry your dad died. Here, maybe this kitty will make you feel better." Really, that's pretty much how it went.

After Dan died, Baby Girl was afraid of everything. Everything. When a car door slammed, she jumped. If she heard a loud noise outside, she would scream. When a dog barked she would cower behind me. She was terrified of dogs. Even friends' dogs that she knew and played with before, she would not go near. One time we went to a friend's house, and Baby Girl refused to get out of the car because she was afraid of the dog. The summer before, she ran through the fields with that dog, and used her as a pillow while lying in the sun.  

Every little noise scared her. My daredevil Baby Girl, who wasn't afraid of anything, was now terrified of everything. I understood. I got it. I mean, one second your world is happy and perfect, and the next your daddy is dead. Of course she's afraid, and all that fear had to go somewhere. I just didn't know what to do about it.

Luckily one of my friends did.  One day my friend messaged me and said,

"Our cat had kittens and Baby Girl needs one." I hemmed and hawed.

"I don't know. It's one more thing to take care of when I'm so stressed out right now. Our old sick cat won't like it," I said.

"NO," she said. "Baby Girl needs one. Come pick one out."

"Okay." I gave in, probably because I had no energy to argue.
We have a consolation kitty. As in,

"I'm sorry your dad died. Here, maybe this kitty will make you feel better." Really, that's pretty much how it went.

After Dan died, Baby Girl was afraid of everything. Everything. When a car door slammed, she jumped. If she heard a loud noise outside, she would scream. When a dog barked she would cower behind me. She was terrified of dogs. Even friends' dogs that she knew and played with before, she would not go near. One time we went to a friend's house, and Baby Girl refused to get out of the car because she was afraid of the dog. The summer before, she ran through the fields with that dog, and used her as a pillow while lying in the sun.  

Every little noise scared her. My daredevil Baby Girl, who wasn't afraid of anything, was now terrified of everything. I understood. I got it. I mean, one second your world is happy and perfect, and the next your daddy is dead. Of course she's afraid, and all that fear had to go somewhere. I just didn't know what to do about it.

Luckily one of my friends did.  One day my friend messaged me and said,

"Our cat had kittens and Baby Girl needs one." I hemmed and hawed.

"I don't know. It's one more thing to take care of when I'm so stressed out right now. Our old sick cat won't like it," I said.

"NO," she said. "Baby Girl needs one. Come pick one out."

"Okay." I gave in, probably because I had no energy to argue.

We went to her house and played with the baby kittens. I didn't tell Baby Girl we were getting one. Then my friend asked which one we wanted, and Baby Girl was terrified. Baby Girl didn't want a cute cuddly kitten. She was afraid. She said,

"I don't know if I want one, Mommy." Wait, what?

The seven year old girly girl is supposed to be jumping up and down for joy at the prospect of bringing home a cute, cuddly kitten. She was afraid of the unknown. Finally I had to put my foot down and say, very harshly,

"We are getting a baby kitten, this is not a choice. Either you pick it out or I will." Yup, really. She conceded, and picked out a brownish black kitten with green eyes. Baby Kitten was still too young to come home with us that day, so we waited a few more weeks.

As we waited, Baby Girl got very excited about her new kitten. When we went to pick her up, she was excited, but the second we drove away, panic crept in.

The entire 20 minute ride home, Baby Girl was in tears with the "what ifs." What if it fights with old sick cat? What if it gets hurt? What if it pees on the floor? What if it scratches me? What if it gets out and gets lost? What if it gets hit by a car? Every possible thing you could imagine, she came up with. The worst part was that nothing I could say could convince her it would be okay.

The first week or so with the new kitten was AWFUL. I seriously considered taking her back. Baby Girl was terrified of Baby Kitten. If the kitten would run, Baby Girl said it was chasing her. If the kitten would play with sick old cat, Baby Girl was terrified that they would hurt each other. If sick old cat growled at Baby Kitten, she was afraid Baby Kitten was going to get hurt. Every single time anyone opened the door she would scream,

"Shut the door shut the door shut the door Kitty will get out!" If Baby Kitten jumped on her, she said it was attacking her and would cry.

At the same time she loved Baby Kitten, and she also needed somewhere to channel all that love. She desperately needed something to love because the two main objects of her love, Daddy and Mommy, were gone and a basket case, respectively. She needed someone. She got a cat.

As a general rule I am not for getting pets for children (or adults) as gifts. Generally, it doesn't work out. Dan, who was a self proclaimed "animal rights activist," abhorred it. But my friend (who is extremely wise about grief) knew Baby Girl and I needed this cat. She was 100% right.

Baby Girl and Baby Kitten have this weird, crazy little bond. They love each other fiercely and you can tell just by looking at them. Baby Girl is always telling Kitten how much she loves her, and is her mommy, and will take care of her and keep her safe. Just the other day she told Baby Kitten,

"I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living my baby you'll be." In case you don't know, that is a line out of a famous book about a parent's love for their child. It's a book Dan adored and read many times to Baby Girl.

Today Baby Kitten went in the car with us, and Baby Girl, sensing she was scared, said,

"Don't worry Kitty, mommy's got you, I won't let anything happen to you."

Baby Kitten is the strangest little cat I have ever seen. She loves lying on her back and getting her tummy rubbed. She growls and whimpers but not because she's mad, just because shes "talking" to you. She doesn't meow. She loves squishing into small spaces, but I think every cat loves that.

For Baby Girl's birthday she begged and begged for a cat stroller. Positive that the cat would love going for walks in the stroller. So auntie got her one and I shook my head. The cat loves that stroller. The cat is completely content in that stroller. Sometimes she jumps in it in the house and looks at you like,

"We're gonna go on a walk, right?"

Baby Kitty turned one this summer and Baby Girl insisted that we have a birthday party for her. I swear that cat was smiling at her (tuna fish) birthday cake and presents and attention.

Baby Girl's fears are getting better. She still has lots, but lots are better. I think Baby Kitten had a big role to play in that. She is no longer scared of friends' dogs and has gone back to playing with them. She isn't as jumpy or worried all the time.

We are still working on things. She still screams at people to shut the door whenever it opens, because she's afraid Baby Kitty will get out and get killed. Baby Kitty is an indoor cat, for that reason only.

I can judge her anxiety pretty well by how she is reacting to the kitty every day. If she is scooping the kitty up in her arms and walking around with it, her anxiety is low. If she is crying and hiding because the kitty "tried to get her," I know she is having a high anxiety day.

I wholeheartedly believe in counseling (my husband was a counselor after all,) and Baby Girl goes every week, as do I. We also go to a children's grief support center.  They are both wonderful, but that cat? That cat has helped her with her grief in ways nothing else could. I wouldn't trade that cat for ten million dollars.

In conclusion if you have a grieving child, you might want to consider getting them a consolation kitty.



I wrote a book about my grief, you can read it here: Carry on Castle

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