Reflection Essay about My Cat

Tasha was beautiful, black, and white diva, who was as fluffy as a new teddy bear from the build-a-bear workshop. Her posture was always stern and stiff, as she sat at the top of the stairway gazing down, with her gray eyes, at the tenants that entered the building through the front entrance. She was intimidating to anyone who didn’t know her, but to me, she was a sweet loveable cat who could do no wrong. Tasha was a stray kitten that I found in a vacant apartment next to the one I was living in at the age of 9 years old. She was kind and loving, so I thought, but would only allow relatives or frequent visitors to pet her whenever she wanted attention. Tasha was quite the cat, friendly to most humans but feisty towards other strays. I can recall a time from my childhood when I caught Tasha fighting with another stray cat in the hallway of my apartment building. In my eyes, she was an innocent kitten, but to my surprise, she appeared to be at least 4 feet while standing on her back legs, swatting at the cat trying to defend himself. To make things interesting, Tasha wasn’t neutered because we couldn’t afford it, so anytime she would escape the apartment for days, she would return pregnant with a litter of kittens that we would have to eventually give away. One day, after school, I spent four hours searching for Tasha I looked outside and in all the places she would usually hide inside my home. After no success of locating her whereabouts, I assumed that she had ran away and would never return home before we relocated to another city in two daysI was devastated. Before going to bed, my mom instructed me to take a nice hot bath to help with my anxiety and to relax. Since I was a child, the only thing that would help me relax would be bubbles, so I decided it would be a great idea to open the hall closet, climb on the little red step stool to grab a bottle of soap. As I looked down, I noticed Tasha was laying on top of a yellow blanket surround by boxes, with tiny little kittens squirming all around her. To my surprise, she didn’t escape, she stayed close to me but hid from everyone so she could deliver her kittens in peace. Within seconds, my devastation turned into excitement I begged my mother to allow me to stay up to play with the kittens, but she instructed me to go to bed because we had to wake up early to start moving.

Its moving day and I have tons of questions running through my mind, what if I don’t like the new house? What if Tasha runs away and never returns because she doesn’t know how to get home? What if we’re not allowed to have her at the new place altogether? I stayed quiet because I didn’t want to bombard my parents with tons of questions, we all know that moving day is a tedious, aggravating day and the last thing you would want is a nagging 9-year-old. I climbed into the back of the U-Haul, gripping Tasha tight enough in my arms so she couldn’t escape once the van started to move. My mother climbed into the passenger seat, and I could hear my stepfather close up the van doors, which sounded like the grand finale of the memories that would be left at the place once called home. Once we proceeded to drive, I could feel Tasha starting to tense up and move around a lot in my arms, which made it difficult to hold her still. I could feel her claws digging into my pant leg, which caused me to yell out to my mother for help.  I explained to her that Tasha was scared and wouldn’t sit still, and her response was “you better hold that cat, you wanted to bring her, so you hold her still”. Out of nowhere, Tasha somehow manages to jump out of my arms and landed onto the dashboard of the van, meowing in fear. Within a split second, the cat lunges from the dashboard and pounced on top of my mother’s head, who happened to be screaming and yelling her arms in hysteria at this point. While all of this is unraveling before my eyes, my stepfather is trying to remain calm and keep control of the moving van to avoid getting into an accident. He eventually had to turn on the hazard lights, pull over to shoulder of the road to get the cat off of my mom and to calm everyone down. Of course, my mom was enraged and wanted to abandon Tasha on the side of the road but changed her mind after I begged her let me try to hold the cat again until we arrive at the new place. Tasha was feisty and was a menace in my mother’s eyes in every possible way, but in my eyes, she was innocent and could do no wrong.