Quitting smoking isn’t just a decision—it’s a whole lifestyle shift. People talk like once you hit a couple of days without lighting up, it’s all smooth sailing. “Oh, you’ve quit!” they say, as if the cravings pack up their bags and move to Florida. But no—just like Whiskey the Kitty, those cravings still need daily management, patience, and a whole lot of responsibility.
And speaking of responsibility… today I accidentally sat on the cat.
Yes. Sat. On. The. Cat.
To be fair, she is tiny, silent, black-and-white camouflage level 10, and loves to appear under me like she’s auditioning for a magic act: “Behold! The Disappearing Kitten!” She was fine—possibly offended—but fine.
But moments like that remind me: caring for another life isn’t just cuddles and cute videos. It’s making sure she’s fed, watered, entertained, socialized, and yes, her royal highness expects a fresh litter box every single day. She watches me clean it with the same intensity a drill sergeant watches a recruit scrub floors.
And honestly? That responsibility mirrors quitting smoking. The novelty wears off. The excitement fades. And what’s left is the daily work—small decisions that add up to big victories.
People keep telling me, “Sixty days? The hardest part is over.” Maybe. Maybe not. I still feel like I’m in the process—like I’m still walking the path, not standing at the finish line. But I am walking it. And every day, I get a little stronger.
So for me, for Whiskey the Kitty, and for Marlboro—who now clearly knows his place in this hierarchy—we understand each other.
I got this.
by Dan and Bonkers
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