Boundaries and Togetherness

December 17, 2019

Beloved:

          We say things like “He’s settling in” and “He’s getting used to the dogs.”   In fact, it is we who are adjusting to the multitude of rules involved in living with Otto.  Here he is sitting close to me on the arm of my chair. 
          The rules as I know them so far: 

1.  I may pet him if he sits by me but I may not, ever, pet his belly or his tail.  If I attempt to rub his belly he will bite my hand lightly and meow in a way that suggests I just ruined a perfectly nice moment. 
2. He does not want to sit in my lap.  He only wants to sit in Carl’s lap, sometimes.  If I attempt to pull him into my lap he will struggle and stretch out like a slinky, with the same accusing, disappointed meow.  
3. Absolutely NO cuddling.  Cuddling is for golden retrievers, whom he tolerates but regards as low class.  He will, occasionally, rub his head against my hand in a cuddly way so long as I pretend not to notice.  
4. Food in his bowl does not mean that he has been fed.  Apparently, he wants different food from the same bag of cat food. 

          All relationships have them, of course — boundaries.  The edges beyond which our togetherness is uncomfortable or inappropriate.  Some boundaries are well established and function as any other social mores.  Some are written down and given official status, codes of conduct for example.  While other boundaries are more complicated to decode, not unlike Otto and me.  We listen to the words and cues of others and act accordingly.  Speaking plainly about what is and is not okay doesn’t always work.  I spray Otto with water when he jumps onto my kitchen counter, but clear, kindly spoken words seem more appropriate with people.  So is respecting the boundaries they set for themselves:  physical, emotional, and otherwise.  In chosen relationships like friendship, romance, and roommates, walking away because one’s own boundaries are consistently disrespected is a form a self-care for which one need not apologize.  In unchosen relationships like immediate family and coworkers, enforcing one’s own boundaries takes extra effort and not a little self-grace.   
          As I finished writing, my daughter Emy wandered downstairs to say that Otto has slept on her chest almost all night, purring like her own personal bedwarmer.  So much for Rule #3, I suppose.  Then again, Otto’s boundaries are just that — Otto’s.  Whom he cuddles is not mine to say.  And who knows?  Last week he hardly came out from under the bed.  This week he sat beside me on my chair.  Maybe next week we will be even better friends.  There is always, always hope.  

~peace, prayers & merry christmas, friends!  
pastor annette