Maggie is the constant in my life. As I’ve lived through those 19 years, and the days that have been the making of me, she’s been there. Her warm, velvety body pressed into me (she sleeps in my arms every night), her unblinking gaze watching over me. She’s witnessed the dancing-in-the-kitchen and laughing-on-the-phone moments. The boring in-between moments and the wailing-into-the-mattress moments.

Loading

And in the long nights when I can’t sleep, when anxiety has my heart racing in the dark, there she is. The thickness of her fur, the sound of her purr, the gentle weight of her – all of it grounding me and bringing me back to this present moment. Our hearts beating together, co-regulating, calming me. Literally mindfulness in my arms. What will I do without her?

These 19 years that hold the shaping of me. The birthing, parenting, working and creating. The hope, and loss, and back to hope again. The railing and failing and all of the feelings. Maggie has been the observer of it all. The keeper of our lives.

This is the magic of a family pet. Only they see us in our most private moments. We are free to be, without judgment or shame, and we are not alone. Our pets are there, meeting our highs and very dark lows, holding the space for us where emotions can flow.

Loading

What a very great gift it is to be an animal’s special person. To love them, and have their love in return. To have them as a warm place to land at the end of a day, or a reason to rally as the sun comes up. And to carry their story in our own folklore.

As Maggie floats through her twilight years, her life has happily shrunk to a smaller version of itself. She’s content with 2½ rooms and a sunny balcony. I’m consciously thankful for every minute we share. I’ll be forever changed by her. Happily, a Cat Person. Gratefully, Maggie’s Cat Person.

Make the most of your health, relationships, fitness and nutrition with our Live Well newsletter. Get it in your inbox every Monday.