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When the child does not treat his pet well

When the child does not treat his pet well

Before my journey as a mother, I have been a pet owner. I love dogs, cats and anything that gets petted and doesn't take a bite from me the first time I change (like it happened to me when I decided to have an iguana).

The fact is that, when fate gave me some twins, I panicked because in a small house so many loose "animals" did not fit, especially when our dog covered the entire sofa and had completely taken over our bed. Fortunately, although with great sorrow, my mother adopted my dog, and the cat, who was already 13 years old, stayed at home. And this is where the story begins, my twins did not treat the pet too well and this is how I managed to change this situation.

The cat, who was more docile than a stuffed animal, welcomed the girls as they entered the door, and slept next to her in the crib, with my consequent concern that she decided to lie on top as if they were her puppies. The cat always respected them, never huffed or pulled her nails, and when my little ones got older they decided that that soft toy that was always by his side was perfect for doing all kinds of kinks on him. So it was the cat that we had to protect from those little sleepers that, as soon as I was distracted, they grabbed her by the tail, her ears, and even bit her with their four teeth.

The cat looked at me with a sad face, and her pure and good spirit to the extreme made her become the favorite toy of the girls: they dressed her in all kinds of little doll dresses, lThey sat in the baby chair and walked it around the house, the dolls mounted it on its back as if it were a horse, they painted it up to the lips!

There came a time when the cat was about to take her pots and leave home to meditate in Tibet, so I had to step in and subject my daughters to a deep empathy brainwash. He scolded them, punished them and gave them endless talks when they treated the cat badly (although for them it was not treating her badly, but good, because they said they were taking care of her) and I thought it was all in vain.

One day a little friend came to our house, and when she saw what they did to her cat, the friend decided to do the same, it was when my daughters realized the torture to which her friend was subjecting "HER" pet, and They came to their defense, claiming the same reasons that day after day I repeated to them, and that I thought had no effect.

When the friend left, I praised how well they had done, and I told them something they always remember: “The cat is your pet, it is a weak animal that must be protected, it loves you, trusts you, asks you help if she needs something, if you treat her badly, she will be sad and won't understand why you don't love her; you will have disappointed her ”.

It was the hand of a saint, since then the two have assumed the role of caregivers and have not used her as a toy again. The day she died, when she was almost 20 years old, there were many cries, but I can more than assure you that it was worth all the joys that our cat made us live, and the teachings that with her infinite patience she instilled in them forever.

The new cat will undoubtedly thank you more than anyone.

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