Sarah Jane Morris & Joni Helen Blueberry
I grew up with dogs, and between 2004-2016, was the proud mother of a wonderful pug named Herbie. We were truly a bonded pair, and while I’d never go so far as to say I was exclusively a “dog person” I definitely knew and understood dogs better than cats for the majority of my life.
Then Spike, the tough but sweet Russian Blue, came into my life in 2014 through a relationship. Spending time with Spike was a true crash course in how to speak cat. After a couple of boundary crossings and lessons learned, I came to understand how to respect a cat’s space and get rewarded with attention when Spike decided I deserved it. The experience of living with Spike gave me a general appreciation for respecting boundaries, and frankly, the much less anxiety-driven flavor of my relationship with Spike, versus the relationships I’d had with dogs was pretty refreshing. I was starting to get it.
When Herbie passed in 2016, I was traumatized. He had been my dog partner for so long—and the last few years of his life were rife with illness. It took so much time to mourn him, but I always knew another pet would be in my life… and soon. I just didn’t know exactly who, how, or when.
When my relationship ended in 2018, I mourned some more. I returned back to my hometown of Montreal to start fresh. There was something about that fresh start that made me want to lean into all things feminine—I decorated my new apartment with soft fabrics, pastels, feminine art, and energy. It was in the early Spring of 2019 when I realized I was ready for the last piece in my new start—a super femme kitty cat!
I was initially very into the idea of kittens—but every time I’d follow a kitten “lead”, they’d be swept up before I got the chance to even meet them. On another one of these kitten hunts, I went to the local SPCA. As I was on my way there, I was looking at the other cats listed on the SPCA site. I noticed a diminutive little lady named “Yulia” listed. I hadn’t seen her before and thought she looked so precious. But they said she was 2 years old. Seemed sus to me, she was so little.
When I got there, once again, the kittens I came to meet had already been adopted. So I asked about little Yulia. At first, they couldn’t find her in their records, but for some reason, I stuck around looking at the other sweet cats. Suddenly the SPCA worker said she had found her record, and went to the cage right by my feet and lifted a towel. There sat perfect little white and black Yulia, and she let out a perfect little trill (editor’s note: this is foreshadowing). When I squatted down to look her in her big green eyes, I felt an instant connection. She was so PRETTY and GIRLY! When I reached a finger into her cage, I immediately got a delicate, sandpapery kiss. That was when I knew she was coming home with me. They took her out of the cage for more getting to know each other, and that’s when I saw her little tail sway to and fro, which it essentially has not stopped doing since that day.
“I decided a tiny girl needed a very long name—so I added Helen, my beloved grandmother’s name, and Blueberry because Joni is a blueberry, and isn’t that incredibly obvious?”
As I was filling out the paperwork I learned some things about “Yulia”. She had been showing up at someone’s house asking for food, but they couldn’t keep her as they already had 4 cats, so they brought her to the SPCA. The SPCA estimated her age as 2 years old based on the state of her teeth, but couldn’t be sure. She was only 5.5 pounds on the day I adopted her! And the saddest part, while being fixed the day prior, they had discovered 4 stillborn kittens. It still breaks my heart to think of my tiny, pregnant babygirl living on the streets asking for help in Montreal in March, when it’s still very cold and snowy. It was clear that Yulia needed a lot of love and a safe place to be, all the more reason why I felt like she was destined to come into my life.
As we got to know each other a little better, it was clear that she was not a “Yulia”. I’m not sure exactly how it came to me, but as a long-time Joni Mitchell fan, she was clearly a “Joni” to me. And, I decided a tiny girl needed a very long name—so I added Helen, my beloved grandmother’s name, and Blueberry because Joni is a blueberry, and isn’t that incredibly obvious?
Joni couldn’t have come to me at a more important time. I had briefly moved back to Montreal after my breakup with no real idea of what to do with myself. She helped me start a company there. While that company didn’t end up working out, she moved with me to Boston for a new career opportunity. And then to New York. Throughout all of this, my father was very ill and eventually passed, and the pandemic raged around us. Joni has been my love, my heart, my safe place, my joy, and she has injected that tender, nurturing feminine energy into my life that I somehow knew I needed. I even got a lovely Joni tattoo, by the amazing @erikavendett (who also gave me lovely Herbie AND Spike tattoos, for the record!)
I was lucky to spend the holiday season of 2020-21 at home with my parents, and Joni was with us. This was between living in Boston and moving to NYC. My dad was really ill and had suffered multiple mini-strokes in the years prior, which did impact his personality and behavior— but his illness somehow also brought out the sweetest parts of himself. When he met Joni for the first time, he nicknamed her “Jelly Button”— he didn’t know why but he just had to call her that. And he was 100% correct, she is a Jelly Button. But that just goes to show what animals are capable of providing our weary souls. They pull out sweetness like magic. I miss and love you dad, and I love you so much Ms. Joni Helen Blueberry Jelly Button Morris.
Sarah Jane Morris (she/her/hers), who goes by SJ, works from home in Brooklyn, NY in a tech field called “Developer Relations”. She loves people and dog watching in NYC, trying new cocktail bars, the NYT Spelling Bee, going to shows, occasionally cooking and watching terrible reality TV. And her cat, @jonihelenblueberry.