Queer cat ladies are a well-worn trope. A brilliant collection of haikus called The Lesbian Sex Haiku Book— with Cats (written by Anna Pulley) resides on my bookshelf. For several years, Kate McKinnon and Kristen Wiig starred in a recurring SNL gag between two lesbian cat lovers. And according to The Cut, cats have been featured as companions in Ancient Egyptian Wicca and Witchcraft for centuries, “appealing to women generally disgusted by the demands of marriage, gender roles, or mainstream femininity.”
“In the 1970s, few women were more disgusted with the sexist status quo than lesbian feminists,” the authors wrote.
As a lesbian who adores felines, the fact that I didn’t adopt my own until late last year surprised both myself and the people who know me well. After continually putting it off (convinced I wasn’t settled, resourced, or ready enough), I finally took the plunge and adopted late last year. I acknowledged that maybe I’d never feel 100% prepared. And as Hugh Prather put it, “The fatal mistake is waiting for life’s circ*mstances to be right before we begin. Simply begin with your heart; look deeply into it, and trust what you feel. Practice knowing, and you will know.”
Mickey the tuxedo came home with me last September. A month and a half later, I scooped up Callie the brown and orange tabby from the same SPCA. And after a four-day-long introduction process, the two are now best friends. They frequently chase, wrestle, cuddle, and bathe one another. Though I’m extremely happy with the decision, my earlier apprehension was understandable. Cat parenting is a commitment, much like a relationship. In my several months of caring for the duo, I’ve pondered the parallels. Here are some of them, starting with the selection process and moving on to the day-to-day coexistence.
It all starts with online profile browsing…
The SPCA website allows prospective pet parents to browse through an online catalog of adoptable animals. Each cat profile contains a brief description and one to six photos. Mickey’s caught my eye immediately. There was a sprightliness to him; curiosity and affection shone through in his face. His profile touted incredible baker’s paws, and the fact that he was a talker.
According to a survey conducted by Top10.com, “Sixty-three percent (of human daters) claim their matches have IRL personalities that are way different than what was portrayed on the app.” This wasn’t the case for Mickey and me. Our in-person chemistry matched my expectations.
Judgments of unadopted cats echo single-person stigma.
Mickey was six months old when I adopted him. I initially wondered—How had someone not snatched him up the minute he’d become adoptable? I then caught myself for my bias, recalling how I’ve felt similarly annoyed when people say to unattached women, “But you’re so attractive! Why are you still single?”
Luck, timing, chance, past trauma, and not meeting the right people or potential owners—all play a role. Ultimately I felt grateful that other people didn’t see what I saw in Mickey because their blindness to his worth made him available to me. The fact that he wasn’t adopted sooner didn’t lead me to question his value; it just made me feel extra lucky. The way I see it, all those people who didn’t snatch Mickey up immediately are missing out on a seriously amazing, gentle, loving, and playful cat.
It’s a two-way decision.
Technically, the human is the one with ultimate decision-making power when it comes to cat adoption. And yet, though it may seem like cats are totally vulnerable and at the whims of us, they, too, have a certain degree of decision-making power. Felines can communicate their feelings and preferences through their cattitudes towards, and treatment of, potential human owners (you’re not likely to adopt a cat who has its back turned to you the entire time, are you? Or has conveyed a disinterest in bonding with you?).
Upbringing informs personality. Pasts shape present behaviors.
Mickey lived on the streets for his first three months of life and has more of a problem with over-eating than Callie does. Callie, meanwhile, was born into warmth and shelter. She’s a little princess who likes her food just so, and power to her. Pickier than Mickey, she’ll never give paté more than a few licks (yet she always wants to eat whatever I’m eating). Far less discriminating, Mickey will eat whatever’s put in front of him.
The past traumas of the people you date will show up in your communication with each other, at times igniting conflict—for which reason it’s helpful to learn about their origins. Michelle Obama wrote of her relationship with Barack: “We’ve had to practice responding to each other in ways that take into account both of our histories, our different needs and ways of being. It’s always helped when we are able to name our feelings and situate some of our differences inside of personal history rather than present blame.”
Acting out or protest behaviors speak to unmet needs.
Cats are like your conscience. It’s important to pay attention to what their behaviors are trying to tell you. For instance, Callie peed on me when I failed to clean her litter box in a timely manner. She woke me early with door scratches and carpet tearing when I’d forgotten to give her a meal before bed. If you look just a bit deeper, these annoyances are a sign that something’s not right. If you want them to stop, you turn your attention toward the message beneath them and rectify the unmet need. Maybe you didn’t play with them enough the day before, so they’re bored and restless—looking to you for stimulation.
When Mickey was climbing my counters, it told me I needed to buy him more toys—a climbing tower, for one. Beyond just providing a consequence for the behavior (which, rather than get to the root of the problem, only superficially corrects a symptom), I sought to meet his deeper needs to the best of my ability. When a partner acts out, there’s often something underneath it worth exploring.
… But humans have more personal responsibility to self-regulate.
Granted, Mickey doesn’t have the vocabulary to directly communicate his needs, nor can he drive himself to PetCo. Human adults can and do. Unlike cats, we need to “train” our own selves to a large degree. A partner can definitely help play a role in that healing and fostering security, but ultimately, the person themself is responsible for the way they behave.
Navigating the intimacy line between closeness and autonomy.
“Being in a relationship is a delicate balancing act of feeling close to another person but not losing yourself in the process. Often, depending on the stage of the relationship and each partner’s attachment style, one partner may crave space more while the other craves more closeness.”
Callie approached and walked across the keyboard as I read this paragraph from Psychology Today. It made me laugh. Sometimes you want to cuddle, and cats scurry away from your open and loving arms. Other times, they won’t get out of your face. It’s hard to get work done when they’re climbing all over your computer, sticking their faces in whatever you’re eating or drinking, or begging for attention as you’re running out the door.
It’s always a negotiation. Love means compromising and understanding that your wants won’t be met the minute you’d like them to because you’re two separate organisms. Your and your partners (or cats) wants won’t always sync up.
Like humans, cats’ needs and behaviors may change over the course of their life. Pawtnering with them is learning to roll with that, adapt, accommodate, and respect the ebbs and flows—as you too will have your own.
There will be moments you want to give up on the connection, but you emotionally regulate, put things into perspective, and see the bigger picture.
My cats absolutely annoy me at times. I was furious with Mickey the time he locked me out of my bathroom. Both knock household items over several times a day. Callie’s also single-handedly murdered every plant I’ve brought into the home so that the only ones I can keep now are hanging out of paw’s reach.
How to continue loving someone when we are angry at them? Greater Good Berkeley suggests: “Mindfulness: We need to disengage from reactivity. We begin by giving ourselves space after noticing we are caught in reactivity. Connection: warm heart: Remember the listener is someone you love and are loved by, even when distress arises. It is human to make mistakes. As best you can, speak with an attitude of gentleness. Avoid blame, accusations, and name calling.”
You learn to factor the irksome behavior into the bigger picture of who they are. I remember that when Mickey’s not climbing counters or disemboweling toilet paper rolls, he’s purring like a Romanian panther, splooshing his corca body beneath my chin, and giving me thorough baths to show he cares. I can handle some stray shredded tissue and temporary separation from my cosmetics in exchange for this.
When Callie’s not murdering orchids, knocking over the TV, and sticking her face in my food bowl, she’s purring like a warm furry croissant beneath my chin, making me laugh by kicking pink Starbursts across the floor, emitting meows from her tiny pink mouth that melt my heart 1,000 times over, and providing endless entertainment via the Mickey v Callie WWF (World Wrestling Felines) matches that she initiates. I remember our connection, the joyous moments, and my love for them. And more often than not, this tempers my annoyance, if not instantly then within a short amount of time.
**
Many cat owners will tell you that the efforts are well worth it—that to care for a feline is to strengthen your love muscle, stretch your patience and your heart, and receive the daily gift of their presence. My cat duo brings inordinate warmth, pizzazz, adventure, and challenge to my life. I love watching their daily jaunt around my apartment (Callie gallops; Mickey sashays). I love how Mickey puts his arm around her like a consoling older brother when they sleep side by side, the sleek black fur of his arm (capped with a white mitten) wrapped around her tabby light brown. I love most of all that when I open the door each morning, there they are—like two kids awake early on Christmas, wide-eyed and ready to rummage through their gifts.
They’re the presents I wake up to on a daily basis as well.
