This is another entry about Kuno, my cat, and her transition to our new home. It is good for me to have her around, but it is also difficult because as I watch her struggle with things, I often see myself as well.
The first day of her transition was difficult for both of us. Kuno spent her time on the shelf, sleeping, orbiting on the toilet bowl, yowling. I had already dispersed cat toys and beds throughout the house, but she was too scared to leave the tiny back corners of the house.
Even worse, she had been exploring before, and she had even been sitting on top of the bed earlier. (A cat who always spends time under things is probably scared and insecure, while a cat who spends time on top of things is probably more comfortable in the environment.)
She was living a very small life, but I wanted her to live in a bigger one. She was afraid of things, but I could see that there was nothing for her to fear. She was alone, but I wanted to spend time together. The longer that things went on, the worse things got for me… because I am living a small life, I am afraid even when things are safe, and I am staying alone when I don’t need to. In watching her struggle, I am forced to watch my own struggle from a new perspective. In waiting on her and realizing that I cannot rush her growth at all, I can see my own slow pace.
It’s hard. I don’t like feeling so small.