my cat is afraid of the living room
Sunday, April 20th, 2025
James Dean is an older cat, geriatric by veterinary standards, turning fifteen years old and forever immortal by mine. In his later years, he has become even more particular, which is a feat in itself given the already precarious nature of the feline mood. James, ever impressive, has developed a few more eccentricities.
For the last few months, James has refused to set foot (paw) in the living room. The edge of the area rug now marks a very clear boundary between safety and utter danger. This is new. I have ten years of photo evidence to the contrary- my adventurous white cat napping on his favourite chair, sitting on the stoop, gazing out the window at the birds, stretching out across the rug bathed in sunshine. I was not present for the traumatic event that changed all of this (if one even exists), but I am seeing the effects clearly now. And that’s okay.
In response, I have started taking daily walks with James where he sits nestled in my arms as we stroll across the living room. My apartment is not big. This takes about four steps. Nevertheless, we stroll back and forth, one of his paws around the back of my neck as if to say don’t you dare let go. And I won’t. Two days ago, we sat by the window and he looked out, in between kisses that remind him I am still there. Yesterday we took self portraits in the rocking chair. We got in two rounds before anxiety took over and it was time to tuck him into an afternoon nap in bed. Little by little, step by step.
I believe this terror to be nonsensical. James, you’ve lived here for a decade, I think within the walls of my mind. But it doesn’t really matter what I think, does it? My senior cat still has some very real fear regardless of my ability to rationalize it.
When I was a little kid, I developed a sort of anxiety about going to school. It was my happy place in many ways, but what if something happened? What if I threw up on the carpet like those other kids did? Why did so many kids in the 90’s throw up at school anyway? I didn’t even feel sick, but what if I started to? The cyclical thoughts set in each morning. Unsurprisingly, my mother dismissed this and took me to school every day with the message that I was being silly, that I was fine and that I should not worry. And I was fine- I would arrive at school, take a few deep breaths, get out my binders and sink into the comfort of learning something new. In this way, I did overcome that school anxiety…very largely on my own. I held my own hand into school and I did what I practiced throughout my entire childhood- comforting myself, telling myself it was okay to be afraid. In my mother’s eyes, I was irrational. In my own, I was brave.
I think about this now as I hold my cat close to my heart, bringing him into the danger of the living room without ever letting go. But even more, I think about how I give his fear the space to be. It is not for me to decide if it should exist, but it is for me to decide how I want to show up for him. Which is, with comfort. With reassurance. With daily walks and lived experience that will show him it is safe after all, that he can confront his fear in this way. Together.
It is far too easy to dismiss what does not make sense to us. And it is tempting to even label that thing as “wrong”. But, denying another’s reality does not make it go away, it simply means that we are unwilling to consider it. We are not willing to create space for it, to hold space for it. In the vast history of fear, I doubt that anyone has been soothed by the advice “Don’t be afraid”. See also, “Don’t be sad”. Don’t be any kind of emotion that requires me to sit with you. Don’t be any kind of emotion that I don’t agree with.
There are a great many things to be afraid of in this modern world. And there are many perceived threats that lead to catastrophes in cruelty and discrimination. At the heart of it all, fear. And we do not get anywhere by dismissing it. We move forward not when we criticize the fear, but when we inspire the bravery to confront it. Give the scared person the comfort of your presence. Left alone in their fear, they may self-soothe. Or, they may be won over by the comfort of division, of hate, of othering the fear until they too label it as “wrong” and unfairly caused by some bad thing outside of themselves. Left alone in their fear, they may find comfort in avoidance. They may find comfort in blame. But to be brave and to face the scary inside nature of your fear requires hope and it requires love. It requires a connection that says you do not have to do this alone. It requires a daily walk around the living room, together.
