Hey, do you know that when people practice a pitiful affection for cats, they are all the more disposed to take pity on their fellow human beings? Okay, not just cats, animals then. I don’t want you to think this is all about me.
Yes, this is Lucy talking. My turn. She gave me permission to do so. There!
Do you know what stigma is all about? Is that a new brand of catnip? Does it taste good? Or another Tuna product that did not come from China? A treat for me? Or a trick!
My whiskers senses are a tingle, and my ears are twitching when I hear the word stigma. But that is no skin off my nose. Stigma has this illusory truth effect just like fake news. It’s people tend to believe that something familiar is true because they talk about it over and over. That is insanity in my cat’s world.
My human wouldn’t say that. She’s smart. She suspends her judgment. Egad! If I were her, my nails exposed out of my paws and KA-POW, blood will draw out of your skin should anyone tattletale. But I won’t do it because I am born to love all people and much too much wiser than dogs.
Speaking of dogs, my human told me once a story of a beautiful woman she lived with at the residential house. She hardly spoke. People thought the devil possessed her when she cuts her arms. Thank goodness, it’s only her arms, not her face. Her husband is so handsome and loving towards her. She kept to herself. My human will look and nod at her as an acknowledgment that she exists. No words. Just eyes and a nod. The good doctor being a good person decided to bring her pack of trained dogs to help her come out of whatever world she lived in. The good doctor made her walk the dogs. And that she did. One day, my human saw her at the stoop of the residential house with the dogs. My human went to pet the dogs. Together, they sat on the stoop, not uttering a word to each other, but the dogs kept them closer, for a while. They don’t know each other’s name. That is okay. With the help of a good doctor and dogs, she managed to stay alive.
My human believes that there is no ‘I, ‘Me’ or ‘Mine’ on mental illness. Because she knows she’s not alone. She constantly uses the proverbial ‘We.’ With my cat brain, that makes sense. So I leave you with this parable:
A desert monk said, ‘the day will come when the world will go mad and when people meet a sane person they will say ‘you are mad because you are not like us’ (Laurence Freeman)