A kitten and a little boy

Bruce, Bear, and Belonging

First there was Bruce Sunshine Daffodil Writes.

My little boy had wanted a cat for so long. But I did not anticipate that our family rescue kitten would become his cat. It became clear immediately, the moment we met Bruce, that he belonged to our youngest boy.

Belonging is such a beautiful concept. It’s almost impossible to describe. “An affinity for a place or situation”. “A close or intimate relationship”.

Whanaungatanga. “a relationship, kinship, sense of family connection - a relationship through shared experiences…which provides people with a sense of belonging. It…serve[s] to strengthen each member of the kin group. It also extends to others to whom one develops a close familial, friendship or reciprocal relationship.”

Our bonds extend us, serve us, strengthen us.

Bruce, a standard issue ‘car-park-cat’ from Feral Nation, has done (and continues to do) more for our little boy than probably anyone or anything has. Bruce accepted and loved our boy immediately and unconditionally. What a gift for anyone? How important it is to be simply accepted and loved.

We wondered how it worked - Bruce, with his perpetual scowl, is scooped up the second school is over and on weekends he gets no downtime. He is wrenched from sleep without warning, yet never complains. He could easily hide but doesn’t. He could ensure he’s not home when school is over but he seems to know that’s when he’s needed most. He has never scratched our boy or bitten him.

When our boy is overwhelmed and every part of life is chafing at him like an itch that can never be scratched, Bruce is there. He waits, loaf-like, ready to be of service to his boy. It’s not always clear what he gets out of it. Food? Yes…but he’d get that anyway. Shelter? Sure, but again - he has that. Why does he do it?

This is unconditional love.

Bear Grylls Pōhutukawa Writes is black and white and wild. He leaps from the top of the bookcase onto the bedside table, knocks over plants, and bottles of water, chases Bruce and Twinkle the dog. He is a tiny bundle of mischief. He is ambivalent toward his two boy charges. He will play with them if they waggle a cat toy near him, he will pester them for food - but he shows little interest yet in their desire for cuddles.

It was my eldest who hassled me for him. It is my eldest who now complains about his litter tray, the smell of his food, the way he’s “knocked over all my succulents mum”. It took just a few days before he didn’t want him in his room. His friends are wary of Bear too, on account of his leaping from under the couch to grab at their ankles.

I adore Bear. He saves all his snuggles for me. He keeps me up all night - scratching at me, pulling at my hair, trying to find the soft skin of my belly beneath my tee shirt to bite me as I sleep. He will not sleep in his cat bed that we never needed to buy for Bruce. He bit my phone charger in half, tore pages from my bedside books. He stares with intent at my husband’s crotch through his jeans as if he knows he can leap at them at any time to give him another vasectomy.

I was worried at how my youngest would handle the rejection. How would he cope with a cat that….acted like a cat?

I was wrong to worry. In his endless patience for Bear he has shown our whole household what belonging and whanaungatanga is. He is in endless conversation with this little kitten, teaching him (and learning from him) what it is to be in our whānau.

And as he teaches this little black and white ball of chaos, he teaches me too.

When Bear scratches him he says “are you scared? You don’t need to be scared. Are you angry? What made you angry?”. When he bites in play he says to himself as much as to Bear “this is how you play is it?”. When he chases Bruce he says “Bruce doesn’t like to be chased but you can chase me”.

When he mews earnestly over his food, our little boy commiserates with him. And when I am frustrated with the noise and the upended plants and the poop he says: “He’s learning mum. He’s just little”.

And he tells me to remember when I was little.

And I look at this little boy and how he is pushing himself to be OK with all the things that are so hard for him. He lives in a world that is too busy, too scary, too loud, too overwhelming. It is not set up for him. He now faces smells he doesn’t like, bites and scratches that make his whole body react, noise…all for a little kitten who is brand new to this world but also brand new to him.

And it is an incredible lesson in how we meet each other where we are.

Bruce loves him and it is (and was) unconditional. He loves Bear and it is unconditional. Bear will learn that he is safe, that he is loved, that there’s nothing he could do that would make him any less loved. Bruce has taught him this and now he will teach Bear.

Being given unconditional acceptance and love has taught him how to give unconditional acceptance and love.

How powerful. How wonderful. How affirming.

I think, this is belonging.