ANDRE BEGIN

One morning, as I was preparing Ivy the Cat for her leash walk around our country property to get our steps in, I couldn’t help but notice something on the back of her neck.

I wondered if it was just the morning light playing tricks on me and I hadn’t noticed it before. I blinked a few times but the result was the same.

Could those possibly be grey hairs? Do cats even get grey hair? I could have sworn that they weren’t there before. I truly had no idea that a cat might share that sign of aging with us, but as a first-time pet owner, such details were still new to me.

In that moment of realization, her life flashed before my eyes.

It seems like just yesterday I brought home this energetic one-year-old kitten who was strong willed and curious by nature. Even though she was a pure delight to have around, like most teenagers, she developed a talent for testing boundaries as fast as I could set them. Thankfully, this tendency was balanced out by a strong gravitation to structure and routine that was my usual way of doing things too. For that reason, we were well-matched.

Just the same, I was often surprised by her capacity for randomness and impulsiveness. Even when all of the boxes were ticked on her daily to-do list, I was baffled by her flair for drama in seeking my attention. Sometimes, it was just to tell me about her day; other times it was because something needed replenishing. With time and experience, my interpretation of her vernacular and her inflections improved, putting me in a much better position to respond correctly.

When she was a young adult, I learned an important lesson upon noticing that in the days following a disruption to our routine, she tended to follow me around like my shadow. A few days later, when stability was restored, she wasn’t as clingy. This contrast in behaviour was the sign I needed to truly grasp the depth and breadth of my responsibility. As much as we know cats to be independent, they are dependent on their human for every aspect of their well-being. Not only was I there to provide food, shelter and a sparkling clean litter box, she depended on me for reassurance that everything was right with the world – her world. From that epiphany on, I truly felt like her father.

In better understanding my duty in offering her a good life as well as appreciating the privilege and honour that goes with that commitment, I made a point of engaging with her even more, in the hope of making up for the time I was away at the office or enjoying a social life. Interestingly enough, in making myself more available, she seemed more relaxed and didn’t revert to as much attention-seeking behaviour.

When she was a full grown adult, the tables turned. When I was dealing with struggles of my own, Ivy seemed to pick up on my anxiety and became a source of comfort and reassurance, preventing me from getting too caught up in my own rumination. When she curled up on my lap and looked up at me with her pretty green eyes, purring contentedly, she taught me a valuable life lesson about focusing on these moments of calm and serenity, basking in the unconditional love she offered me in return.

A few years later, when we were forced to work from home due to the pandemic, it felt like Ivy was in heaven to have Daddy home all day every day, choosing to nap in the same room as me, snoring away in the background of my virtual meetings. When I’d look over at her and see one eye half open, I could swear she was checking that I was still there and then contentedly going back to sleep.

When I retired from my career which coincided with Ivy approaching her senior years, I truly looked forward to having more time to decompress with my feline friend napping on my tummy which had become our precious weekend ritual.

There were days when I noticed that the jump onto her perch didn’t have the same oomph as usual. I wondered if she was starting to slow down. Then, during the next leash walk, she would completely surprise me by running after the chipmunks at speeds that had me calling upon muscle memory from my half-marathon training days. In those moments, I would reassure myself that she was indeed the same energetic cat I have always known.

Just the same, the gray hairs serve as a reminder that we are now at that cross-over point, where Ivy and I are, for all intents and purposes, the same age. The sad reality is that going forward, her age will accelerate faster than mine. I try not to think about it too much. For all I know, we may still have another great decade together ahead of us.

I know I gave her a good life. Some might even say a pampered life, but why not? For the healing she continues to offer me, she deserves it. When she is sitting in my lap, doing the slow blink that we are told is a sign of affection, I can’t help but hope that it is an acknowledgement of the safety, security and stability I’ve offered her, away from the stress of life on the streets when she was rescued.

Her presence has helped me to get out of my own head and enjoy each moment, as it is happening, and to not miss out on life’s great moments. Ivy also reminded me of the temporary nature of life and to not take these moments for granted, not just with her, but with all of my loved ones and friends.

Now, whenever I notice those little grey hairs, I try not to take it as a cue for sadness over the inevitable but rather to take it as a commemoration of the wonderful, enduring relationship we shared, knowing how much this wonderful companion and I have shared together, and how we were both there for each other when we needed it most.

She is a wonderful little soul, and I hope our family has brightened her life as much as she has brightened ours.

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Sincere thanks for reading!

Have a great day,

André