What Happened When I Spent Christmas Eve in a Basement with a Crazy Cat
It was Christmas Eve, 2013, and I was scooping poop from a litter box in my neighbors’ basement. Leticia and Dana had rescued a feral kitten whose new habitat extended from the hot water heater to the washer/dryer. Although it was icy outdoors and toasty within, this foster feline wasn’t buying into her rehabilitation. But I was. I was three months sober. That’s how my piece for the now dismantled Fix starts. If you’re curious to read how I got through that holiday season newly separated from my husband while also recommitting to my recovery from alcohol, you can read the rest here.