Crohn's & Claw

If anyone reads my blog regularly, follows me on Twitter or has met me even once, it's 100% likely the conversation has come round to Cats. I love Cats. I realise I can't say that without sounding like an insane cat-loving spinster, but nevertheless it's a fact. I asked a friend if it's too weird to blog about my cat and her immediate response was "Yes" - so i've decided to ignore that advice completely and do it anyway.
It's a PROVEN FACT (I did research and everything..) that pets can decrease blood pressure, cholesterol levels, triglyceride (fatty acid) levels, and feelings of loneliness :( They can increase opportunities for exercise and outdoor activities and socialisation. ACTUAL scientist-types have PROVEN this. 
So there are a few reasons why cats (and dogs - I'm no animal racist) are wonderful - and useful. I make no excuses for my love of felines, but as you've been good enough to take the time to read this, I feel I should explain a little more before I sound like the aforementioned crazy cat lady. 
I've always been 'Team Feline'. My parents always kept cats, so there have always been furry little things in my life since I was a wee one. I was besotted with them and their little habits. Loved that I was a 'Kat' too and read books and studied them until I was a self-proclaimed expert. I even had an 'I <3 CATS' badge I wore proudly on my Primary School blazer. I realise admitting my childhood adoration has now shot me well beyond mad-cat-lady-status, so i'll leave it there. 
Needless to say, I'm a cat fan. But what has all this got to do with Crohn's? I hear you ask. Well the reason for this post was to express how much my own personal little bundle of fur has helped me since i've become ill. I believe completely that animals ca sense our feelings and emotions. After my operation, when I was home from hospital to recuperate, our cat and I spent a LOT of time together. Yes, we had visitors but they came and went and my other half was at work most days. 
I spent the first few weeks bed/couch-bound, and the cat barely left my side. He learned quickly not to sit on my wound and rested his weary wee body on my knees or feet instead. It could be my imagination but i'm convinced he saved his mega meowing sessions for when his dad got home as he was mostly quietly purring for me all day. He was patient when I took about 3 weeks to drag myself off the couch to feed him or open the door. 
The sheer fact that he was right there at all times cheered me up and the simple fact of stroking a cat DOES lower the blood pressure. Meaning he made sure I didn't get stressed out and remained relaxed. When I went for a nap he joined me every-time and got up when I got up. When I had the misfortune of having to go to the bathroom he either meowed to come in with me or stood patiently outside the door waiting. 

He's a little furry legend and I adore him down to his last wee whisker! Pets should really be prescribed on the NHS. Just not mine's of course. 


K x