u/Negative_Plenty_3807

My first cat ever was recently hit by a car and passed away. I’m still grieving him, so I know I need a little more time before bringing another cat home, but his loss has made me feel very strongly that when I’m ready, I want to give an older cat a loving home for however many years they have left.
I live in the Angwin/St. Helena area and already have two cats. We have a large three-bedroom, three-bath house with plenty of space and a big garden. After what happened to my cat, though, I honestly don’t know if I could ever feel comfortable letting another one roam outside, so any future cat would be kept safely indoors or only have supervised outdoor time.
I’m especially interested in a senior or elderly cat—maybe one who has been overlooked because of their age and just needs somewhere peaceful and loving to spend their later years.
I’m not looking to adopt immediately because I want to give myself time to grieve and make sure I’m ready. But if anyone knows of a senior cat in need of rescue, a local shelter/rescue that specializes in older cats, or even an elderly cat whose owner can no longer care for them, I would really appreciate being pointed in the right direction.
I just feel like, when the time is right, I’m meant to give another old cat a few really good years. ❤️

Sorry for the dramatic title 😂 But I’m trying to avoid driving all the way to Vacaville or Dixon!
Does anyone know somewhere local that sells lamb or goat head split down the middle? Splitting the skull usually requires a butcher with a band saw, so I’m looking for either a shop that sells them already split or a butcher who can do it.
Does anyone know a place nearby, or have a butcher they’d recommend?
Thank you all!!! 🐐🐑

Two years have passed, and thankfully my life has changed dramatically for the better. I am 31 years old now, and for the first time in a long time I feel genuinely safe. I have the man of my dreams, a home I love, a career I worked hard for, and I live in a place that gives me peace. By all accounts, my life has improved.

Yet despite all of that, I still carry a tremendous amount of resentment.

I brought in a nasty person into my life, called him. My boyfriend and I did everything for him in the name of love. I regret every moment with him.

The hardest part is knowing that I allowed someone to take advantage of me for far too long, and I often wonder if I should have done more to hold him accountable. I think about reporting him more aggressively, pursuing charges, or pushing harder for intervention. I worry that while I escaped, he may still be out there hurting other women.

My ex was unemployed, contributed almost nothing to our household, and refused to do even basic acts of care. I worked exhausting 12-hour hospital shifts, yet he could not be bothered to make me a meal or support me in any meaningful way. Looking back, it is difficult not to feel angry at how much I tolerated.

What makes it worse is the harassment that extended beyond me. He repeatedly texted my mother, who was battling breast cancer, telling her that I was a terrible daughter, that karma would come for our family, and that something bad would happen to us. Every morning seemed to bring another message designed to create fear, stress, and pain.

I did report him. I made multiple reports to law enforcement in the Lake Tahoe area where he lived. I documented what I could and tried to seek help. At the time, however, it often felt as though nothing was going to happen. Looking back, I still question whether I should have pushed harder, even though I know I was doing the best I could under the circumstances.

My brother, a nurse practitioner, has also been subjected to his harassment. My brother works an intense schedule—two weeks on and two weeks off—and has built a respectable career helping people. Yet my ex would fixate on superficial things, repeatedly insulting him and calling him a “fat fuck.” The insults were ridiculous and immature, especially because my brother understood something I struggled to accept: this man likely needed psychiatric help.

What hurts is that my family was dragged into a situation they never deserved. They became targets simply because they loved me.

The truth is that I still carry a sense of responsibility for all of this. I sometimes feel like it is my fault for allowing the relationship to continue as long as it did. Intellectually, I know I was being manipulated, worn down, and trying to survive. Emotionally, however, I still wrestle with the belief that I should have protected myself and my family sooner.

What I am really grieving is not the relationship itself. I do not miss him. I grieve the fact that there was never a moment where justice felt complete. I escaped, my life improved, and I found happiness—but there is still a part of me that wishes the damage he caused had been fully acknowledged and addressed.

I am learning that moving forward does not mean pretending it never happened. It means recognizing that I did eventually leave, I did seek help, I did protect myself, and I built a better life. The fact that I still feel anger does not erase the progress I have made. It simply means there are wounds that are still healing.

But I just can’t shake it off

I need therapy

I need an Etsy witch or something

I feel like I did society a disservice for not turning him in

But I finally have found my peace

I can’t let go