Читать книгу I'm Leo, a service dog in a cat jacket, and I'm helping my owner with PTSD - K. Eyck - Страница 4

I'll introduce myself, my name is Leo, and I'm a healthy cat of 1.5 years. In this book I tell you what it is like to have a 33-year-old owner with PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). Since I was 9 weeks old, I've lived with my owner, Sophia. She found me over the internet, and when she came to look, we immediately clicked :)

I was allowed to go home with her, which was fun, and exciting at the same time. Once in my new cottage I was introduced to the other cats. They were two brothers of 10 years. They're called Robin, and Dean. They're nice, but I had to get used to them. I was very small, which is why my owner put a cat harness on me with a little bell. Then she could hear me, which she really likes.

My owner has PTSD, which is a disease in her head, which means she regularly reacts differently from, someone who does not have PTSD. PTSD is the abbreviation for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, which means that she has experienced, something very intense (traumatic). That's why she got this difficult disease. It's a stress illness. Which puts her under stress very quickly. That's tricky, that is why I also have a nice cat harness with a bell on, so she can hear where I am. That saves her from stress. If I can help her like that? Then I don't mind wearing a harness, and a bell.

After I was with my new owner for a few days, I got sick. She noticed that, and we went to the vet. That's where I turned out to be sicker than I thought. I just didn't feel well, and just didn't feel like playing, but sleeping well. Sleep heals, so I tried that first. Unfortunately, that didn't work. It was very stressful for my owner when we had to go to the vet. That's why her mother came. Her mother comes to help with difficult things, so she also goes whit us to the vet. The vet examined me. I turned out to be far too small, and too light, and I suffered from fleas. I live 826 grams at the time, and was 9 weeks old, which was not good according to the veterinarian. My owner was given baby milk, and I had to eat it three times a day, but also regular kibble. That would help me get back on top faster. I did, and I got my first baby milk at home. I thought that's not good at all. But I was wrong, it was lovely to drink. She prepared it in a container, so I could drink it easily. It always took some time before I finished it, sometimes it was too much for me, because I had eaten enough, Sophia didn't mind.

I liked being pampered, and getting the baby milk. It made me feel better very quickly. The bad start I had because I was, so sick had already been converted into a good start in a few days. I liked that. That my owner tried very hard to get me better. She hadn't thought about bringing me back, either. Instead of doing that, she took me to the vet to see what we could do to make me feel better. I really like that, I was very embarrassed that I was, so sick, and, so quickly chased her to costs with the vet visits.

Sophia said it was more important that I became a healthy cat than that I had to worry about the cost of the vet. The first week I was with her, we were almost inseparable. We stayed together, and we took care of each other. I would regularly jump on her lap, and then she would grab the comb, and she would start combing me. My fur started to shine beautifully, and it helped to get the fleas out of my fur. That way, she got, some fleas out of my fur. That was the beginning of a special bond I have with my owner, Sophia. At first, she used the flea drops. But lately she has been using a few drops of lavender oil, and that also helps to keep the fleas away.

When I was a healthy kitten again, I started taking care of my owner my way. I do, all kind of silly things, sometimes, so she laughs at me. Just like suddenly standing on top of the tip of the scratching post, lying on the windowsill, but I can also curl up very small, then I look like a ball of wool. When I first moved in with her, I was sleeping on the couch. She took a few pictures at the time, and also one with a Donald Duck pocket right next to me. I was a little bigger. That's how small I was! Small, isn't it?

I also try to help her my way, by distracting her regularly. At first, she didn't really understand what I wanted. That was kind of tricky. But after a while, she understood what I meant, Sophia calls it distracting. Over time, I've become a star in distracting her. She'll be sitting at the laptop at the table. If I find out she's having a hard time, I'm going to go see her, and get attention. Often I want to be petted over my head first, and then over my back, and over my head again, and, so on.

Distracting that helps her to lower the emotions of that moment a little bit.

In the beginning, Sophia was busy writing a book.

(That's called "My Life with PTSD"). In it, she talks about what it's like for her to have PTSD. That's a tough book, not only because it contains all the highs, and lows, but also because it tells her what happened that gave her PTSD. That piece is the hardest thing to write about.

I often notice when, Sophia was working on that book. Then she becomes more restless or suddenly very quiet, and she just sits typing on the laptop. Those are the signals I've learned to recognize over time.

If I notice that, I'll take extra care of her. You can call it an extra sense, somehow I feel that. If I think it's getting too much, I'm going to go see her, and distract her.

That helps, Sophia. Distract, distract, and distract again. That's, sometimes very tiring, to have to distract her over, and over again. But I like to do it, Sophia is my owner, and she already has it tough enough. I'm happy to help her. I could just go to her, and give her a short meow. I often do that when I'm hungry, but also regularly if I just want to be cuddled.

By the time I was with, Sophia for a few weeks, I'd grown quite a bit. I already weighed 1473 grams!! I started sneezing all of a sudden, which I found rather annoying. It just kept itching in my nose. I can tell you, then a little nose is not very convenient. Again, Sophia didn't trust it, and we went to the vet. I was well recovered from last time, but, somehow I got sneezing sickness. That sucked. I wasn't waiting to get sick again. That made my owner take care of me a lot more. Like regularly taking the snot bubbles out of my nose, which wasn't as easy as you might think. She also regularly sat with a handkerchief in my eyes. Yakkes!! Always found that annoying, and unnecessary. But she said it was necessary to get the damp eyes a little cleaner. Reluctantly I just had it cleaned, but fun was different! I feel like she kept doing that for months. That must have been a couple of weeks in practice. At, some point the sneezes, and tearful eyes became a bit less, that was nice.

I started to feel a bit better, and started playing with Robin, and Dean again. I did, Sophia a great favor with that. That was the sign to her that I was back on my feet. That was my way of showing that she no longer had to worry about me, and that I could focus on her again.