Sara Jean

Sara Jean

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Fourteen years ago I encountered a kitten from the Humane Society that had been sitting in her cage for far too long. One-year-old, scrawny with Dumbo-sized ears and a skin condition that left her with bald spots across her body. Her previous owners stating they had returned her due to her "strange" personality. Her name was Dog. 

Of course she was weird. They named her Dog!

My heart connected with her the second our eyes met and I was determined to make sure she had the best life imaginable from that point forward. 

Within a month her fur grew back...and then some. In fact, she ended up having the softest, most luxurious fur I've ever seen on a short-haired cat. Her personality was far from strange, but rather perfect in my opinion. She became my best friend. She could read my moods better than anyone I knew. And could fix a broken heart with a snuggle and a purr. She was loyal. I was all she had. 

I renamed her Thomasita. She also goes by Kai Kai Poo Poo Pants (best chanted in an English accent). And she has lived the life I promised her. It's the least I could do to repay her for her friendship and unfaltering love. 

Two years ago her health started to decline. She started to struggle with climbing the cat post and getting comfortable anywhere seemed to be a task. She started to lose weight and drink excessive amounts of water. So I got her a dog. Okay, I got myself a dog, but what a wondrous relationship bloomed between the two. Suddenly Thomasita wanted to play and her youthful vibrance truly started to show. Which made me happy and worried me at the same time. Because it also resulted in more sore joints and soon she started having accidents on the floor. Her appetite also started to subside which meant she got skinner. 

Which brings me to the point of this story. After discussion with a friend in the veterinary field, a ton of research and watching other friends who had tried the "alternative" route to giving their pets a better quality of life...I bit the bullet. I bought her CBD for her 15th birthday.

Now my first journey into a pot shop is a story worthy of it's own post, but long story short I bought her a tincture touted to be "produced in honor of that special family member who is always there for you, loving you unconditionally." 

The companion tinctures utilizes a 5 to 1 ratio of CBD to THC, providing an effect that is low in psychoactivity, but while harnessing the medicinal power of THC. In other words, she wouldn't be seeing unicorns and butterflies, but may just start feeling like one.

The result?

After one day she had MORE energy. Which isn't what you'd initially expect with such a product. 

After one week she had her appetite back. 

And currently...

She has only had two accidents since I started her regimine just over two months ago.

Her vomiting has subsided (and she's been puking up hairballs since she was a young lass). 

She RUNS. She plays. She climbs to the top of her six-foot Lotus cat tower and sings at the top of her lungs. 

But most importantly? She's happy. She acts like a kitten again. She plays with string and hair ties and she is now eating four times a day. And pooping like a champ. Where she's supposed to poop - in her litter box. 

I just started her on her second bottle of bacon-flavored magic. And while it may not EXTEND her least I know her QUALITY of life will be that of which I promised her 14 years ago when I rescued her from that sterile cage. The best life imaginable. And in return she has given me just that. The best life with the best friend a girl could ask for. 

110% would recommend CBD oil for your ailing pet. Miracles do happen.



My girls.

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