Giving Thanks

I saved Bob and Bob saved me.

Kim Vansant


Photo by Haley Owens on Unsplash

I was bullied at work in 2022 and into 2023.

My self-esteem took a significant hit. I had a few people close to me who tried to help, but there was always advice from the simple “Don’t let it get you down,” You know it’s not true,” “You’re tougher than that.”

I did. I didn’t. I wasn’t.

I’m thankful for Bob. He was an unexpected gift I was graced with in late May.

I found a litter of kittens that the momma cat never returned to care for. They were less than a week old and fit in the palm of my hand.

Momma cat probably got hit by a car or was killed by a coyote. Three of the four kittens died within a day. Bob was a survivor. He fought to be heard; I would never have looked in that barrel if it weren’t for his cries. He fought to survive, and in doing so, he helped save me.

I’m thankful for the purr. The purr means unconditional love and acceptance. The purr relaxes me and takes away my stress. I crave the purr.

The purr heals.

His warm little body cuddles up next to my heart, where I bottle-fed him as an infant, soothing both of us.

He grooms my hand, ear, and sometimes my head, which I find odd, but it relaxes him to take care of me. I’m part of his family. He has integrated so well into our home after a rough start. My husband didn’t want him. I fought to keep him.

He is loved, and he loves everyone.

The headbutt, nose nudge, and him smelling our mouths.

He also loves to play with shoes and smell them when we come home, wherever we have been.

Bob loves my dog, who has separation anxiety. Bob will lay with Puddles and give her attention when we leave the house. Bob became her emotional support cat. It is so sweet to witness.

Everything becomes a toy. Hair ties are a favorite, as most cat lovers would agree. Anything that falls on the floor is fair game. Boxes, If it fits, he sits.

Plopping down next to me, whether in bed, in my office chair, or watching tv on the couch and sometimes on the floor in front of me as I walk.



Kim Vansant

Homesteader, gardener, chicken tender-er, feral cat whisperer.