It’s been a short while since Kuno, my cat, moved into our new home. Those first two nights were rough: she howled all night with this sad, anxious cry. She was lost; this wasn’t home; something was wrong. In this phase, she slept the days away up on the closet shelf and cried all night while her humans tried to sleep. It was a pretty dark time for us all.
Since then, she’s started wandering into the main house, looking out of windows, examining the environment and more. It’s encouraging. We moved the cat tree into the main room, and now she sits up there and watches us in the evenings, which is as it should be. All is well.
The problem with identifying with your cat, well one problem with identifying with your cat, is that the cat will adapt faster than you do to massive changes. Her whole world changed at once- territory moved, landmarks changed, access to the outdoors removed, people changed, furniture changed, etc. It was big and yet…
Here she is, lounging on laps, sleeping in the sun, and getting fur on the furniture. She belongs here now, but I? I don’t. I am allowed to live a much bigger life than what I’m living now. I can walk around and go wherever I want, but I just stay in my house or in the public places I know best. She hides in my closet and I hide in my house.
Where is the adventure? Where is the risk taking? Why don’t I have someone preparing the world for me, like I prepared this home for her?
Why didn’t I learn these skills as a child? How did I become a helpless adult?
Do I need to stay helpless? Can I be more?