Expert Perspectives: What About Pet Perspective? Holly the Cat’s Take on Retirement Villages
Written by Janet Brown
This article is part of Eldernet’s Expert Perspectives series. The views and opinions expressed are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect Eldernet’s position.
Janet Brown is the director of Head and Heart Ltd, a consultancy that has been an associate member of the Retirement Villages Association for 14 years. She has worked across the retirement village sector, with not-for-profits, corporates and independent villages, coaching managers and other staff, facilitating strategic and operational planning, and providing governance support and training. Since mid-2024 Janet has lived in a retirement village, so she now has consumer insights as well.
Ten days after we moved into our retirement village in Nelson in mid-2024, our then fourteen-year-old cat flew across Cook Strait, arriving in a somewhat grumpy mood. We wondered how she would settle; from kittenhood she had lived in our suburban 1931 bungalow, and what we had now was brand new and a very different proposition. Initially, some things non-plussed her. The ranchsliders (we have three sets of them) proved to be a challenge; she was deeply unsettled by windows that went right to the floor, and were sometimes there and sometimes not. It took a couple of weeks for her to adjust to suddenly being able to walk outside where there was a window five minutes ago. But once she got that concept sussed, she decided she could relax.
And relax she did. In our previous home she was largely an outdoor cat, sleeping on the outdoor chairs on the deck in all weathers. Here, she’s an indoor cat as well, sprawled in the sunshine by the now non-threatening ranchsliders, or asleep in a pool of sun on our bed or in her cat tepee. She plays with her toys. And she’s chatty and affectionate, a complete personality change. Visiting family and friends all comment on the change in her. She’s like a feline poster girl for the benefits of retirement village life.
Cats are the most obvious pets in our village. There are three Brucies, one of whom lives opposite the clubhouse and occasionally wanders in to check out the activities. There’s any number of black cats like Holly, one right next door. Our friend Ani’s Mapu often greets us as we walk over to the clubhouse. Interestingly, they don’t seem at all territorial: I’ve never heard a cat fight, and they all seem as chilled as our Holly. We did briefly have a warlord cat in the village who staged a couple of home invasions, but he and his owner have moved on and peace is restored.
There are dogs as well. They’re mostly small and often hairy – terriers of all descriptions, dachshunds and other toy dogs – and are usually seen taking their owners for a walk. Some have become an active part of village life; Arlo goes out on the Monday e-bike ride most weeks with his owner and has become a mini mascot for the group. There’s the odd visiting grand-dog as well. The village pet policy requires that dogs’ villas be fenced, with relatively discreet wire fencing which the village provides.
That brings me to the pet policy issue. Operators’ policies on pets have gradually changed over the years. When my sister moved to an Auckland retirement village about eleven years ago, it broke her heart to have to rehome her beloved cat because the village had a “no pets” policy. That was not uncommon, and still applies in a number of villages. A variant was the option to bring your existing pet, but you couldn’t replace it if and when it died. One resident was so distressed by that, he asked the Retirement Villages Association to argue the case for a replacement. He and his new(ish) dog are still thriving in their village. Gradually, over time, as practice has shown that pets can be well managed in a village, policies have been modified and become more enabling.
There are some strong arguments for this. The mental health and wellbeing one alone would persuade most people. Older people who have a pet say they value the companionship. Pets bring a sense of purpose and responsibility to their lives: they have to get up in the morning to feed the cat, or to let the dog out. Animals also get people out of the house: dogs must be walked, cats sit out in the sunshine and encourage their owners to do the same. And we know that a purring cat on your lap, or a dog’s head on your knee, reduces stress and slows your heartbeat.
I appreciate that it can be a challenge finding the middle ground on this in a pet policy. But sometimes the risks aren’t what you think they are. As I walked round a village in a country town with the manager, I noticed a large black labrador dozing on a patio beside its owner’s chair. No fence, no leash. I asked the manager whether having such a big dog in a village was a challenge. He laughed, and said that, in his experience, the big dogs were usually docile and also well trained – “it’s the little yappy ones that give us the trouble, Janet!”
Bringing Holly was a “make or break” for us, and fortunately it wasn’t an issue. Nor is rehoming another cat when Holly (now sixteen and seemingly immortal) is no longer with us. And we’re beginning to consider a rehomed dog as well. Fortunately, our village is liberal on this. However, we suspect Holly will be with us for quite some time. She’s thoroughly enjoying her retirement in a sunny, warm villa she clearly thinks is hers, with devoted staff committed to her wellbeing. As I write this, I can hear my husband John chatting to her as he gives her dinner. I rest my case…….
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