#ThisIs20

I was still in university when I found this ragamuffin kitten, sprawled-out sleeping on the sofa in the dorm's lobby. I could only surmise that someone coming back from the bar the night before had let her in out of the -20C November cold. I am still thankful to that person.

I took her to the vet, which doubled as the humane society in my small university town. They said they would advertise in the local paper for three days, but if no one claimed her by then, they would have to put her down.

I told them to call me in three days.

I named her Princess--inspired by the word on a keychain I had at the time, it seemed fitting regardless, given her paper-bag-princess appearance when I found her.

And so began our journey together.

I remember thinking, "wow, I'll be, like, in my mid-30s by the time she lives her full life." It seemed like such a long way off. I couldn't fathom being that old. (Don't even.)

And yet, here we still are.

Akira is my sweet snuggler; Holly is my flirty delight; but, Princess is my OG.

She watched me become a fully-fledged adult, and came along for the ride. Princess has moved house with me eight times. She has been with me through a marriage and divorce. Through friendships that have lasted and others that have not. And through one pandemic.

She likes to be where I am. She has been both my study buddy and work buddy. She oversees my gardening, and occasionally nestles beside me in the hammock. She still greets me at the door when I come home. She still gives kisses.

She is 20.

I look at her bowed legs and stiff gait, and I know that this year could be her last. (And then she chases Holly's toy around the living room with an energy that belies her age, and I'm convinced she's going to be the first cat to live forever.) The vet continues to tell me that she looks amazing for her age. She's on some meds for pain and mood, but as long as she continues to eat, pee, and poop, I guess we'll continue on together.

I am happy to be her human as long as her little heart beats.

SOTC 314/365

Photographing her for the Princess that she is.

SOTC 277/365

Probably my cutest SOTC photo to date!

Curl In

Lights out
I roll onto my side
and
I hear her
softly pad her way
up the bed

already
I am lifting the blanket
and she slinks
under

Our nightly routine

She turns a half circle
settles against me
curling her shape
into my shape

I gently let the blanket
drop
enclosing her
in the warmth
and the hush
of night

When I wake up briefly
in the wee hours of the morning
I will notice that
she's settled elsewhere
on the bed

But as I shrug off
another long day,
seeking to greet sleep,
her gentle weight
and mild purr
help to anchor
and settle my soul

and I'd like to think
my heartbeat
does the same for her.

SOTC 206/365

Afternoon Nap (SOTC 157/365)

The pace of her summer has been reflective of the pace of mine:

Slow.
Soft.
Peaceful.

She's Getting Old

Oh, my girl. As I type, she is rubbing her chin along the corner of the screen. A habit she's had since she was six months old.

She is now fourteen.

In terms of felines, she's an old girl. You can feel it in the way her bones are noticeable under her fur when you pet her. You can hear it in her scratchy chirping voice. You can see it in the way she more gingerly jumps on and off of furniture. 

She is not the kitten she once was. 

She spends much more time curled up next to me at night than she does prowling the house. She has been given permission from the vet to "eat more soft food," as she is having a harder time with the dry. She is slowing down.

Oh, my girl.

She's technically not my first cat. But the ginger gentleman I owned in high school had to be put down prematurely--we only shared a couple years together, mostly over homework and television.

Princess I have seen each other through the long haul.*

In her fourteen years, she's moved ten times. From apartment to apartment, from house to house. Helping me settle into adulthood, and following diligently along through its many transitions. I haven't always been the best owner; we are good at driving each other a little crazy some days. But we've stuck together.

She's been the consistency.

She's there on the couch, snoozing in a sunbeam.

She's there on my bed, curled like a letter J.

She's there at my feet, chirping away while I put on mascara.

She's there on my lap, keeping my legs warm as I read a book.

She's there in the grass--we share the same fresh summer breeze.

We kinda go together.

I'll admit, she's not one of those intuitive cats you read sappy stories about--the cat who just knows when their owner is in need of some sort of emotional support. The cat who's super in tune with their owner's feelings.

That's never how we've worked.

Still, we have our own rhythms and routines.

She generally knows not to prance around my bed before the alarm goes off.

We get ready for work together each morning.

She often eats breakfast while I do.

She leaves me cat toys on the bath mat--her "hunting" spoils.

She comes when I whistle.

She eats bugs on command.

Oh, my girl. When she and I were both much younger, I sometimes contemplated on how I'd be "well into my 30's" by the time I'd have to prepare myself to let her go. It seemed like a crazy notion, being a well-established adult with this cat.

And here we are.

A few more years--her time is soon approaching. I am not reflecting this to be morbid; I am appreciating the journey. Because I do believe that we have shared something of a journey together. And I think she must recognize that she is in these last few miles of this journey, because she interacts with me in a different way lately. She sticks closer; she loves fiercer; she communicates more. Or maybe that's just what happens when you spend so many years with a pet--the rhythm and intuition just take over. Or maybe I'm just imagining the whole thing.

Regardless, I will respond in kind; there are only a few precious years left in this journey, and I want to savour them all.

So I stick closer.
I love fiercer.
I communicate more.

Oh, my girl.






* I want to make clear that I am not undermining the journey I have shared with Akira, my other feline. But today, it is not her story I'm telling.