What Annie Taught Me About Love and Space

We said goodbye to Annie this morning. Her kidneys were shutting down, and we went together to the veterinarian's office.

It may sound strange to say that I learned how to handle some of my feelings through knowing a cat, but I did.

Annie taught me that it is all right to need your own space. She also taught me that it is all right to let others know when you need it. She was masterful at both.

She loved curling up close at night and receiving affection. But when she was finished, or when she needed something different, she let you know.

For the first few years of our relationship, I often recoiled from that communication. I did not understand it as communication at all. I thought Annie was there for me to pet and love on. When she did not want that, I had trouble understanding why she would resist something I meant as affection.

Looking back, I can see that I was sometimes more interested in expressing love the way I wanted to express it than in noticing how she wanted to receive it. My desire for closeness, and perhaps for control, could make her preferences feel like rejection instead of information.

But Annie was not there for me.
She was there with me.

She had her own preferences, limits, moods, and ways of communicating. Over time, I learned to recognize and honor them. Loving her required more than affection. It required attention.

The funny thing is that learning to honor Annie's limits helped me recognize my own. She showed me that boundaries do not cancel love. Sometimes they are how love remains honest.

I miss our sweet and salty Annie Banannie. Our sweet Nanners.

That's some cat.