In Which Junipurr Turns FIVE Years Old

Last week a vet called Junipurr “middle aged,” and I instinctively wanted to snatch those words out of the air, throw them on the ground, and STOMP them out while holding my baby to my heart. Junipurr is nothin’ but a wee muffin, I wanted to say. She’s a baby through and through, and even the offending vet had to agree that Juni has the babiest of mews.

Then I thought of my own mother, who must contend with the fact that not only is her “baby” well into her 30s, but also that said offspring was born with a middle age soul.

So, perhaps it’s ok that Juni and I are both “middle aged” beings.

Look at those bright eyes and chubby cheeks! A wee muffin, I tell ya!

Of course, we all – Junipurr especially – contain multitudes. Here are some ways Juni has grown wiser as well some ways she has remained a babe over the past year:

When you hear the term “predictive analytics,” do you think about a kitty at meal time? You should! Junipurr has become an authority on makes predictions using intuitive data mining and forecast modeling. Favorite Parent and I like to switch up the location of where we put her food bowl to give her a micro Seussian adventure – “Would you like them here or there? Would you like them on the house? Would you like them with some mouse?” (Editor’s note: Despite Juni’s requests, there are no mice in her diet.) Well, our games are no match for Juni, who has leaned into data to anticipate where we will place her food bowl. Like some sort of baseball maverick, she analyzes past plays strategically and keeps her eyes glued to the bowl while getting into the anticipated position. Call her The Soothsayer, because her rate of success would astound algorithm developers worldwide.

Learning to be more tolerant and accepting of others is surely a sign of maturing, and over the past year, Junipurr has grown measurably wiser on this front, too. Whereas a nose-to-forehead rub (the nap whispering corridor!) that went a nanosecond too long used to be instantaneously checked with a swipe, Juni’s tolerance has increased a billion times to a full second before the murder mittens emerge. Also, whereas mama’s loving but admittedly off-tune serenades used to be snubbed with an unceremonious departure from the room, Juni now chooses to lay a gentle paw on my arm – patronizing has never looked so cute. She’ll be leading nonviolent communication workshops in no time.

Speaking of communication, Juni has not only perfected her full body communication technique – a pointed meow coupled with pressing her nose to the screen door to indicate her desire to go play outside, for example – but the level of conversations she engages in has advanced. Conversations used to be more monosyllabic (“Eat! Food! Now!”), but now she delivers straight up speeches, replete with tonal variations and emphasis! Sometimes I overhear her debate topics like the tradeoff between convenience and data security with Favorite Parent. I’d want her as my Debate Team Captain ;)

The biggest change I’ve observed in Junipurr this past year, indubitably, is how emotionally resilient she has become. The aforementioned vet visit, for example, was a quite intrusive experience. Though Juni cried and wriggled in protest during the exam, she emerged swiftly from her hiding place after the vet left and was ready for cuddles. Her return to emotional equilibrium by anchoring in the present moment reminds me of how Martha Beck describes the profound and visceral experience of peace animals in the wild tap into when not in active danger. Juni is my awareness role model.

Lest you think Juni is now a feline Dorothy Zbornak, though, I must reassure you that she is still somewhere between a newborn and a toddler.

Recently I was watching a gripping Netflix show in which a savvy New Yorker declares “I am not new,” as if being new is a terrible thing. To my delight, Juni is very much new. She greets each day, object, smell with unmitigated attention and unabashed curiosity. Every single time we go play on the patio, Junipurr will balance precariously on her hind legs to sniff the bird-of-paradise plant that we have had for the past four years from root to stem with the rapturous wonder of a botanist who just came upon a new species of plant. And the other day, I came into the kitchen to find her busily rubbing her cheek scent onto the fridge, which was probably birthed around the same time as the cosmos, like it had just arrived on Planet Earth. Her immersion in discovery can only be described as the blissed out wonder of a newborn.

Speaking of having a child’s mindset, Juni also exhibits the unique brand of selective understanding that is a toddler’s specialty:

Juni: Snack time!

Me: Not yet, Juni. Your meal time is right around the corner.

Juni: Snack now?

Me: No, lovebun. 10min to lunch.

Juni: Ok, snack now. A million and a half kibbles is enough.

Me: No, Jun-

Juni: *Body slams her kibble dispenser*

I want to tell my little weirdo: “Babygirl, never change. Never grow up!”

But to grow and change and explore new ways of being is Junipurr’s prerogative. So, no matter how much nostalgia this ignites for me, as her mama, I am just along for the journey, pen and treats in hand.

Happy birthday, my five year old!