Lear, Mab and What Happened Before...

I recently got a letter from King Lear The Huge and Little Queen Mab's original owner, which affected me greatly. I wanted to share it. It's a lesson about being young, about adopting pets, facing many difficulties and how it, years later, it never quite leaves you. It's about wanting to do the right thing and how even with the best intentions, you end up unable to.

It's about growing up.

They're safe, my dear, and loved. And just as you remember them.

Here's the letter, and pictures she sent:


Hi Lorraine,

My name is ***, and I am the original owner of Queenie and Lear. I really apologize for this long email. I have to say that, ever since I gave them up for adoption (along with their massive collection of toys,, I was too afraid to look them up online because I was too afraid that they may not have found a nice family, or couldn't adjust to new fosters/owners because they were too loyal (especially Lear). There's not been a single week when I didn't think about them since. I still remember that the day they drove away from me, I felt numb and a little bit 'dead'.
Big Lear is fiercely loyal. He came from what I assume to be an abusive situation, and took to me immediately when I brought him home. I was originally going to adopt only Queenie from the breeder, but couldn't leave Lear when I saw that he was being ignored and somewhat 'abused' because the breeder couldn't find a buyer for a grown up cat like him. The condition was horrific in that breeder's house - I felt more like I was rescuing them rather than buying them. Lear has a huge heart - he would reprimand me for half a day until he would finally come to me and give me his signature 'head butt' on my forehead, which is like an "I love you" that really hurts because that boy has a thick skull. Queenie was always the prissy, quiet girl protected by Lear...as you probably know by now.

Because they are especially curious and energetic cats, I remember making a lot of interactive 'foraging' toys for them, and even considered buying/building a cat treadmill wheel for them. I had adopted these cats when I was living with an ex boyfriend in a big apartment, but when we split, I moved into the teeniest studio. This was horrible for these cats - they were always just sitting around, not able to run (more like zoom) around everywhere anymore. I built this tunnel maze system for them which took up the entire studio floor, but that wasn't enough to keep them amused. They needed a wide open space. This...was the biggest reason for my letting go of them in hopes that they would find a bigger home with as much loving care as I could give them. The problem, of course, was that I couldn't find a single way to console the way I felt about letting them go because they were perfect to me.
After they were given up for adoption, I went through a horrific time - I was in college, and was diagnosed with lymphoma soon after letting the kitties go. I wouldn't have had the money nor an immune system to allow for Queenie and Lear to live with me. Because of this, I feel that the timing was fortunate for them to part ways with me, but they're a part of me that I really can't ever forget. Especially Lear. After I beat cancer, I started fostering cats and still do.

Today is an odd day. My fiancee and I are soon moving to White Plains, NY, for medical school, and I'll be working as a market analyst - my first 'real' job since graduation. I suppose I was thinking about how I could afford a stable living situation for an animal once again, and plucked up the courage to look up what happened to Queenie and Lear - with heart racing, hoping, wishing... Imagine my surprise when I found that you have an entire blog dedicated partially to them...and pictures...oh, how they look just the same!!!

I apologize sincerely for writing such a long, intimate letter to a stranger, but you've been caring for my dear cats for so long, and it really looks like things couldn't have been better for them. I miss them entirely too much, and I really hope one day that I can see them again. Most importantly, I hope you know how thankful I am for you.

Best wishes, ****

Love and Lessons,
Lorraine