Owning a Bengal, Owning Up

One afternoon after a judgemental Facebook viewing I started down a regrettable train of thought: tons of my peers are making stupid life decisions. Zeph and I are much too practicle in comparison to our peers and therefore never have any fun. It seemed like we followed the rules no matter how petty, chose the most frugal routes, picked the most practicle things. Boring. Meanwhile, (at least in my head) our peers are out there having momentary fun racking up debt, breaking the petty rules, being impracticle. Of course my conscience was still reminding me of the consequences my peers face for these decisions. But somehow I equivocated enough to decide that the consequences of just one tiny rule-breaking-act would be washed out by all my disciplined choices of the past.
People, this is what happens when you skip your devotional for the day: stupid thought trains.

This diabolical train came when I was really wanting a cat and turned into me justifying looking for a cool pet on Craigslist despite our no pet rule at the apartment. I pitched my 'we never do anything fun' shpeel to Zeph and found one.
And that is how we ended up with Eva the Begnal Cat.

Eva (AKA Evil) started right out serving me humble pie and reminding me that no matter how big my pile of good decisions is there are consequences to any choice. Sometimes large ones for 'small' bad choices.
The first night we had Eva she was upset at being left alone while we slept. So upset that she began making a noise similar to what I picture a dying mountain lion would project, only twice as loud. Just when we thought we could maybe get use to the terrible noise enough to get an hour of sleep that night, Eva began to throw her body against the walls and door of our apartment. There would be a sickening thud fairly high on a vertical surface and then more howling. I got up to see what in the world was going on only to have a blur of fur with crazy eyes go by me at eye level and smash into the wall next to me. Drama much?
We were assured my the breeder that she was just going to need a little time to adjust and then she will be a much more compliant, less vocal cat.
We have not yet seen that and it has been five months (five long months).
Everyday Eva amazes me at what she can come up with to acutely remind me that consequences do exist. The other day she literally scooped out most of the water from our toilet all over the bathroom floor for no other reason than personal amusement.
People often wonder why I hesitate to get rid of her and about 90% is owning up to my choice. I got her, I deal with it. The other percentage is the ridiculous compassion towards her that has somehow hung on though it all. Perhaps someday I will find a different home for her (mostly because I love my husband and he hates Eva).

For now it is owning up to it one disastrous, furry day at a time.