Text and photos by Solange Jain
In Queens, New York City, Baya and Lennox wake up in a two-bedroom apartment, Lennox curled in a ball on the couch and Baya under Mom’s bed. They simultaneously lift their heads when they hear the bathroom door close, meaning Mom is awake and it’s time for breakfast.
In Arles, France, Luna opens her eyes to sunlight poking through the leaves of an oleander bush. She pokes her head out before jumping down and starting the walk down the street to the house. At the house she finds an open window and jumps in, waiting inside to be fed.
When leaving for France, what I knew I would miss most (apart from my family and air conditioning) were my cats. My two furry little creatures provide a comfort and joy in my life that I was nervous to stray from. When I learned that my host family had a cat of their own, I became excited at the prospect of gaining a new four-legged friend.
But I quickly learned that pets are treated very differently in the south of France than in New York City.
At home, in the afternoons I watch Baya sit on the windowsill and survey the world from behind a glass panel. She watches buses and cars, dog walkers and business people rushing to and fro, while Lennox often rolls around on the carpet with a toy fish stuffed with catnip. Both cats know nothing other than their shoebox life, shielded from the dangers of the outside world.
When I arrived in Arles, where I am staying with the Devic family, I didn’t meet Luna until the third day. For two days she had been out in the streets, only coming home to have a quick meal once a day. I was informed that Luna spent time with her “boyfriend,” an orange cat in the neighborhood, and together they would explore the surrounding streets, napping in the shade of cars and hunting insects.
While Baya and Lennox have at most only ever felt the outside air through a screened window, the window at the Devic family home is always wide open, giving Luna free rein of both the outdoors and the house.
My initial reaction to this approach of caring for a pet was that it was neglectful and possibly dangerous given the lack of attention on Luna and her whereabouts. I couldn’t imagine sending my cats away to fend for themselves out in the world. The more time I spent with Luna, though, I saw how content she was with her life and it seemed that being unconfined was extremely beneficial.
I began to feel guilty about my own cats’ restrictive lives. What kind of monster was I? I was confining my cats to a small New York City apartment and denying them their natural tendency.
As I reflected on my personal experience adjusting to being in a new place away from my family, I discovered parallels to the conflicting experiences of pet-owning in American cities versus the south of France.
Much like the life lived by Baya and Lennox, my life at home was safe and familiar, and allowed me to think I was experiencing the world when actually I had barely set foot in it. Now, mimicking Luna, I am exposed to the unknown without anyone protecting me, but simultaneously I am independently exploring my environment, without anyone holding my hand.
