The Way My Cat Taught Me How to Be Loved Again

THOUGHT 1

Star is sassy and sensitive.

She’s also deeply curious. The kind of curious that makes you feel like you’re always being gently studied. Not in a cold way, but in a “I want to understand you so we can be closer” kind of way.

It feels like we’ve both made an unspoken agreement that we’re best friends, and we’re going to make sure we take care of each other.

She doesn’t really meow much.

Instead, she communicates.

Lately, she’s been getting really good at putting her paw on my hand and guiding it to where she wants attention. It’s subtle, but intentional. Like she knows I’ll understand if she just shows me instead of asking louder.

The other night, I was laying in bed, half out of it, and she came over with her little spiral toy. She put her paw on my hand and kept it there until I felt something. I moved my fingers and realized, "ah, THE TOY."

She just waited.

Like, really waited for me to get it.

And when I did, I threw it… and she took off after it.

That moment felt so simple, but it hit me in a way I didn’t expect.

I don’t just have a cat.

I have someone who wants me to be part of her world.

THOUGHT 2

She’s always been smart.

When I first got her, she had this little wand toy she loved. One night, I lazily tucked it into the couch cushions so the Roomba wouldn’t grab it in the morning. Later that night, I heard the little bell ringing.

I got up, confused, and there she was, running around, fully playing with it on her own.

She had figured out how to get it back.

Just… because she wanted to play.

She has the funniest habits.

She needs to know what I’m doing at all times. She’ll follow me around, check in, observe everything. And for some reason, she loves smelling my breath. It’s become this whole thing where she leans in, and I gently blow air toward her, and she just… processes it.

Every time.

It’s wild.

THOUGHT 3

Her name is Star, and somehow she found this little yellow star toy that literally says “shoot for the stars.”

It feels like it was always meant to be hers.

When she wants to play, she goes all in.

I call her Sharp Teeth Star because she bites hard — like I genuinely have to wear a sweater sometimes just to survive it. And she gets these little intense eyes, like she’s fully locked into the moment.

It’s chaotic and hilarious and perfect.

And then just as quickly, she’s done, and we’re back to calm again.

I remember the first moment I knew she was really mine.

It was this quiet morning. She was tangled up in the blankets, rolled out, and ended up next to me on her back, belly up, completely relaxed. She looked at me, did this tiny little meow, and I swear she had the smallest smile on her face.

I just remember thinking, '"oh my god… this is my cat."

She shows love in her own way.

Sometimes she sleeps right next to me, and sometimes she doesn’t, but even when she’s not, she checks on me during the night. Just little moments of awareness, like she’s making sure I’m still there.

She used to be a little skittish, and in some ways she still is. When people come over, she’ll peek her head out first, making sure everything’s okay before fully stepping in.

But I don’t think she’s learning how to communicate more.

I think I’m just finally learning how to understand her.

THOUGHT 4

Before Star, there was Tigger.

Tigger was my whole world. She was there for me through so many hard moments in my life the kind of presence that feels like it’s woven into who you are.

When she passed, something in me stayed broken for a long time.

I felt alone in a way I couldn’t really explain.

For years.

And then Star came into my life.

And slowly, without forcing anything, she filled a space I didn’t think could be filled again.

Not in the same way.

But in a new, equally real way.

She taught me that my heart can be bigger than I thought.

That love doesn’t replace itself it expands.

That it’s okay to open back up again.

Now, she follows me around in the mornings.

We run around together.

If I’m stressed, I go find her, give her a kiss, and she lifts her little nose up to meet me.

Like she knows.

Like she’s meeting me halfway.

She’s just a cat.

But also…

she’s my little best friend.

And somehow, she makes everything feel a little less lonely.

Live Soft & Boldly Brave.

— Dain

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