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A Little Black Cat Showed Me How to Love Again

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Inside this Article:

How a Rescue Black Cat Helped Me Heal From Trauma and Discover Love
Why I Adopted a Black Cat With Behavioral Issues
From Pet Adoption to Emotional Support: Mr. Bojangles Becomes My Family
The Night I Realized What True Love Feels Like
Healing From Trauma Through the Love of a Rescue Cat
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How a Rescue Black Cat Helped Me Heal From Trauma and Discover Love

I never thought I’d learn how to love—until I met a black rescue cat named Mr. Bojangles.

“You don’t want that one,” the shelter volunteer said. “He’s broken.”

Broken? I looked down at the black cat sitting on my foot, purring softly. From the moment I walked into the animal shelter’s cat room, he had followed me like a shadow. He didn’t seem broken. If anything, he felt familiar.

“He’s been a stray since birth,” she explained. “He doesn’t like people, dogs, or other cats. He’s already three years old. At that point, they’re basically unadoptable.”

“I want to adopt him,” I said.

She looked surprised. There were easier cats—friendlier, younger, already socialized. But I didn’t want easy.

“Because he needs a home,” I said. Then under my breath, “And because I’m broken too.”

Why I Adopted a Black Cat With Behavioral Issues

In 2017, after months in therapy for developmental trauma, my therapist suggested I try getting a pet—something low maintenance like a cat. I didn’t believe an animal could help me heal. But I went to the local animal shelter anyway.

That’s where I met him. A little black cat who followed me like we already knew each other. I adopted him that day. At home, I let him out of the carrier and watched as he inspected every inch of the house. When he finally settled into my lap and purred, something in me softened.

I told him the truth:
“I’ve only been able to love two people in my life—my brother and one friend. I don’t know how to love anyone else. I grew up with a mom who emotionally checked out when I was seven. She didn’t hug me, talk to me, or show she cared. My dad was even more distant. I learned to expect nothing from anyone.”

Woman holding a black cat with love and warmth, illustrating the deep bond between pets and people. Perfectly captures the theme of cat comfort after loss in heartfelt pet stories.

The cat listened. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t run.
“Don’t expect too much from me,” I whispered. “I don’t know how to love you either.”
He purred again. Stayed right where he was.

From Pet Adoption to Emotional Support: Mr. Bojangles Becomes My Family

It took a week to name him. I chose Mr. Bojangles, after the song about a man who danced joyfully even after hardship. It fit him perfectly. Even at the shelter, he’d chirped and trilled like he was trying to make someone smile.

Over the next few months, Mr. Bojangles became more vocal, more playful, more affectionate. I’d talk to him. He’d chirp back.

“Chirp!”
“Hi, I’m home.”
“Chirp. Chirp!”
“Oh, you moved the sponge again? Hunting?”
“Chirp!”
“It’s dead. Good job.”

Every morning he’d crawl into my arms and nuzzle his face against mine. At night, we’d dance to Sammy Davis Jr.’s version of “Mr. Bojangles.” He was my companion, my routine, my comfort.

But I still hesitated to call it love—until the night I fell apart.

The Night I Realized What True Love Feels Like

When you’re healing from childhood trauma, some days hit harder than others. That day, I had to face the truth: my mom was never going to change. She was never going to become the mother I needed. Letting go of that hope devastated me. I collapsed into bed, sobbing.

And Mr. Bojangles came to me. Silently. He lay beside my head, then pressed his back firmly against my face—as if to say, I’m here.

He stayed there the whole night.

When I woke up, eyes swollen, heart raw, he was still there. Still purring. And I said it for the first time:

“I love you, Bo.”
“Chirp.”
Translation: “I know.”

Healing From Trauma Through the Love of a Rescue Cat

Love isn’t easy—especially when you've never seen it modeled. For people with attachment issues and childhood trauma, love feels risky, maybe even impossible.

But love is a dance. Some are taught the steps early in life. Others, like me, learn late—through pain, through trial, through gentle partners who wait. Mr. Bojangles was that partner for me.

He taught me that:

You can love after loss.
You can connect after years of disconnection.
You can trust, even when you’ve been hurt.

He was a rescue cat—but in truth, he rescued me. I went on to build stronger friendships. Even found a partner who was patient with my pace. I was able to say “I love you” because of a little black cat who showed me what it means.