The Way a Cat Quietly Chooses One Person to Love

Juniper has loved my husband the most since the day we brought her home. Not me.

I designed the spare room with blankets and toys. I looked up the best food and litter, and I ended up on the floor for hours the first week trying to get Juniper out from under the bed, and for some reason, I thought \\”coaxing\\” would work best. I ended up throwing treats and talking to her like a baby. But when she finally came out, she strutted right past me and rubbed herself against my husband.

It hurt, I won’t lie.

It was a trend that continued over the years: She slept on \\”his\\” side of the bed. \\”His\\” side of the bed! She would sit on his lap when they watched movies, and when he got home from work, she’d run to the door to see him, but would ignore me unless I filled her food bowl. I made the money, and my husband was the favorite.

It hurt feeling like it was personal. I was the one performing all of the \\”services\\” while my husband got the fun bits. Head pets and purrs were all for him, while I had to endure cat screaming at me to stop while I was claw trimming. And my husband would get the slow cat blinks. Then everything changed. It was only last months I believe Juniper started to finally warm up to me.

At first, Juniper started with sitting next to me on the couch instead of my husband. Not on my lap, just next to me. Close enough that I could pet her, but not close enough that it would look like she was trying to get my attention. The next week she jumped onto the arm of my reading chair. Then she changed arms, then she moved to the cushion next to me, and finally, one late spring evening, she plopped herself onto my lap and stayed there for an hour.

I could tell my husband was a bit bothered by it. “I guess I’ve been replaced,” he said.

I didn’t respond. I just rested my hand on Juniper’s back and felt the heat of her body through my pants.

Now she follows me from room to room, not like Copper, who gets anxious because he thinks I am about to leave. More like she is just wandering around to see what I am doing. She sits on the counter in the bathroom when I brush my teeth. She curls up on my desk while I am working. She waits by the bedroom door until I wake up, and then jumps on the bed and snuggles up next to me.

I’m not certain what it is that she prefers. Is it that my husband’s schedule changed so I was the more reliable presence? Is it that she needed a little more time to trust me? Is it that cats decide these things on their own timeline and there’s no logic to it?

What I do know is that it is a special feeling to be chosen after years of being passed over. It feels almost quieter and more deserving. Cats do require an unusual amount of patience. A very special brand of love allows a person to wait without requiring a reciprocal gesture. You won’t be able to win a cat over with enthusiasm. Even less with persistence. You have to show up, time and time again, and simply wait until the cat decides to come to you.

As I type this, Juniper is laying on me. She is resting her chin on my wrist and that is making it difficult to reach the keys, and I’m not moving her. My husband sits across the couch from me looking at his phone and glancing over at me with a bemused look.

“She really loves you now,” he comments.

“I think she always did,” I said. “She just took her time telling me.”