Lessons from KitKat - A Needy Cat
KitKat Wants Your Attention.
When I was little, we had a cat named Chiefy (Chief Big Paw) who had seven toes on each paw. Chiefy left a big impression on my life - a very special cat with very special paws. When Grafton was little, he showed me a picture of an orange, black and white cat on the website of our local animal shelter. The cat had extra toe on each paw. Grafton knew I had a thing for cats with big paws. “Get in the car.” And we did and we came home with her and named her KitKat because it was Halloween.
I opened my eyes and KitKat (or KK) was seated in front of me staring intensely into my eyes (and my eyelids when I was resting). Up until that moment, KitKat symbolized how NOT to be in a relationship. She was needy. She was clingy. She was all over me. Before Nico died, she was cast aside. I did not give her the love she wanted. Her neediness was an annoyance - tugging at my sleeve for constant attention. I did not have the patience for it.
How I responded to KK reflected my inner connectivity. Sometimes I ignored her, sometimes I gave her a hello. But I started seeing her as my teacher with an important lesson. A teacher staring into my eyes, unwavering and patiently waiting to be taken in. I had a shift. I made the decision to give KK all the love and focus that I could. I was ready for the lesson. I was available to KitKat, and I was available to myself.
I did not have time or patience for her neediness before - just like I was unwilling to look at my own needs of self-love and care. I did not want to notice my own neediness. I started giving Kit Kat love. No matter how much I pet her, she wanted more. So, I followed her lead and tried to give her everything she wanted. KitKat’s depth of need appeared bottomless - that mirrored my own. As I took the time to love and comfort her, I took the time to love and comfort myself - for a lifetime of hunger. Together, we would settle down into our shadowy depths - learning the lessons of self-love - and gently float back up individually - each of us learning to love another but not need another to feel safe. In time we would learn that we did not have to cling to others to feel protected or nourished. We would learn how to feed our starved selves and feel satisfied alone.
I had room for KK.
I had room for myself.
When my kids visited me in Hawaii in 2021 and we all returned together - KitKat was gone - never to return. She had been ill with kidney problems. She was very skinny, and we could not cure her. I have cried tears of gratitude that I learned from my teacher before she died. I am so thankful that I was able to love her with my whole self. We all did. We all loved KitKat. And like Frances said, “I think there’s a little KitKat in all of us.” We love you KitKat - our teacher. Thank you for joining me for yoga every morning. I loved it and I love you. You have the best purr and it is captured on some of my yoga instructions on my phone, so I get to hear it and smile and be with you.
