The soft mewling sound echoed through the phone, a high-pitched, insistent cry that sent a fresh wave of frustration through me. “Isn’t she just the sweetest thing, darling?” my mother-in-law, Eleanor, cooed, her voice bubbling with an almost childlike delight.
I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my voice even. “She sounds… energetic,” I managed, picturing the tiny ball of fur wreaking havoc on Eleanor’s pristine living room.
Eleanor, at 77, had decided to adopt a kitten. A tiny, ginger terror named Clementine. And I, frankly, thought it was a terrible idea.
It wasn’t that I didn’t like cats. I did. But Eleanor was living alone, her health was… delicate, and the thought of her chasing after a hyperactive kitten filled me with dread.
“She’ll keep me active!” Eleanor had declared when she’d announced her new companion. “And I’ve been so lonely since Arthur passed.”
I’d tried to be diplomatic. “That’s wonderful, Eleanor,” I’d said, “but maybe a fish would be a better choice? Something a little less… demanding?”
She’d waved my suggestion away with a dismissive flick of her wrist. “Nonsense! Clementine is perfect. She’s my little companion.”
“Companion” was one word for it. “Chaos” was another.
Kittens were a whirlwind of claws and teeth, demanding constant attention, requiring frequent vet visits, and possessing an uncanny ability to find trouble. I could already envision Eleanor, her frail frame struggling to keep up with the kitten’s boundless energy, the inevitable accidents, the scratched furniture, the sleepless nights.
And then, there was the inevitable. What would happen when Eleanor’s health deteriorated? What would happen when she could no longer care for Clementine?
I knew the answer. I’d be the one left to pick up the pieces, to find a new home for the kitten, to deal with Eleanor’s heartbreak.
My husband, Michael, was no help. “She’s happy,” he’d said, shrugging. “Let her have her fun.”
“Fun?” I’d retorted. “She’s going to break a hip chasing that thing!”
But I was the only one who seemed to see the impending disaster. My friends, my family, even Eleanor’s bridge club, all thought it was a wonderful idea. “It’s keeping her young!” they’d chirp. “It’s giving her a purpose!”
I felt like I was living in a bizarre alternate reality, where everyone had lost their minds.
Weeks turned into months. Clementine grew into a mischievous young cat, a ginger blur that terrorized Eleanor’s houseplants and shredded her curtains. Eleanor, surprisingly, seemed to be thriving. She’d developed a newfound energy, a spring in her step that I hadn’t seen in years.
She’d joined an online cat forum, sharing photos and videos of Clementine’s antics. She’d even started taking her to a local cat café, where she’d made new friends.
One afternoon, I visited Eleanor, expecting to find chaos. Instead, I found her sitting on the sofa, Clementine curled up in her lap, purring contentedly. Eleanor looked radiant, her eyes sparkling with happiness.
“She’s been so good today,” she said, stroking Clementine’s soft fur. “We’ve been having a lovely afternoon.”
I watched them, a strange mix of emotions swirling within me. I’d been so convinced that this was a terrible idea, a recipe for disaster. But I’d been wrong.
Eleanor wasn’t just keeping Clementine; Clementine was keeping Eleanor. She was giving her a reason to get out of bed in the morning, a source of companionship, a spark of joy in her life.
I realized then that my concern, while well-intentioned, had been misplaced. I’d been so focused on the potential problems that I’d overlooked the simple truth: Eleanor was happy. And that, in the end, was all that mattered.
As I left her house, I smiled. Maybe, just maybe, I’d been the one who needed to learn a lesson. Sometimes, the best things in life are the ones we least expect.
Why Were Olympic Athletes & Other Celebs Spotted with Dark Red Circles on Their Bodies?
This year’s Olympics are now in full swing and it’s all eyes on the athletes.
From archery and shooting to athletics and gymnastics, there’s all kind of sports taking place across Paris, France, at the moment.
One fan-favorite sport to watch is the swimming, and this year there’s a whopping 854 athletes from 187 different countries competing.
But there’s a common theme you might have spotted with some of the swimmers and that’s the unusual dark red circles they have on their backs.
While it might look like they’ve had a fight with an octopus and lost, there’s a very different reason for the odd markings.
It turns out that the large spots are from cupping therapy – an ancient healing technique that involves placing cups on the skin to create suction and increase blood flow to the area.
The unconventional method is supposed to help with muscle recovery and is used as a type of deep tissue massage.
Some athletes were spotted with cupping therapy bruises back at the Rio Olympics in 2016, and it’s still seemingly popular now.
Gymnast Alexander Naddour told USA Today back in 2016 that cupping was supposedly the ‘secret’ to his health.
He added: “It’s been better than any money I’ve spent on anything else.”
Away from the Games, basketball player Kyle Singler has also praised cupping therapy.
“The bruises do look more intense than what they actually feel like, but the benefit from it is really great,” he previously insisted.
Singler continued to tell Sports Illustrated: “You’re not necessarily getting the immediate response that you might want but over time it does help with recovery and loosening tissue and stuff like that.”
But does cupping therapy actually work according to experts? It’s seems as if the jury’s still out.
According to Harvard Health, some studies have found that cupping might provide some relief for a number of musculoskeletal and sports-related conditions. The quality of this evidence was ‘limited’, however.
Elsewhere a 2022 review found that wet (as opposed to dry cupping) was effective for lower back pain.
While the bruises people get from cupping are pretty gnarly, the therapy is generally seen as safe to practice – even if people aren’t 100 percent on how affective it is.
“Most experts agree that cupping is safe. As long as those treated don’t mind the circular discolorations (which fade over a number of days or weeks), side effects tend to be limited to the pinch experienced during skin suction,” Harvard Health explains.
“It’s quite unusual that cupping causes any serious problems (though, rarely, skin infections have been reported).”
There you have it, folks.
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