We adopted a cat. A 3 year old gray male – object of most of my adoration – feline.

My best friend renamed him. The cat was called “Cookie Monster”, but the name “Charles Manson” was bestowed upon him.

We call him “Manny” for short – and “Manny” is the perfect name for this cat, I’m not concerned any longer about how we were able to arrive at that name.

We’ve had him for four days so far. I really enjoy that this cat loves to cuddle. Although shy, Manny is bound to get all up in all of our business soon enough.

BUT the day that we adopted him was deeply marred by the drama of my best friends ex-girlfriend. This happened when I called her out AGAIN on her BS. She thinks it’s OK to disparage my best friend on her Facebook.

She does this often meanwhile she’ll gloat to me in text messages that her and his relationship is “fine”. She’ll claim she loves him then writes a lengthy status on her Facebook essentially creating the image of my best friend being a neglectful deadbeat.

Then she wonders why the relationship didn’t work out. Oh right – she claims that it was me who drove a wedge between them. It was awhile ago – when she first started doing things like this that I realized that I could not consider her a “friend”. In fact I told my best friend that, to me, she was just an acquaintance. His well-being superseded hers to me.

I’ve talked to her about using their daughter as a weapon against him – but she claims that she “has to”. I talked to her about smoking marijuana and then breastfeeding – but she claims that she is the mother and knows best. I talked to her about writing demeaning status updates on her Facebook about him – she tells me her slanderous remarks about my best friend aren’t of my concern.

She accused me of “controlling” him. She accused me of breaking them up. She accused me of not wanting them to work things out.

She clearly does not understand that the things that I’m talking to her about ARE THE EXACT THINGS THAT DROVE HIM AWAY. If she’d just cease doing those three things they would very likely still be in a relationship.

At any rate, he is here living with me – in a safe, secure place. He doesn’t have to worry about being kicked out. He can do whatever he wants – call this place his own.

Because I want him to be happy.

I don’t ‘control’ him, I love him which means doing things that will lift him up and give him his confidence back. It also means defending him when I see he’s being wronged, and talking to him when I think he may be in the wrong.

There are so many life lessons she needs to learn.

But I’m going to go cuddle with my cat before falling asleep.

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