in defense of cat ladies.

I have always loved cats.

When I was young, we had a band of farm cats that roamed the yard. I gave them creative monikers such as “Orangey” and “Yellow Eyes.” I played with them when the weather allowed, I loved them deeply, and I cried when they were hit by the school bus. (Only one of them met that awful fate, but it was gut-wrenching then and still is now.)

The farm cats eventually thinned out, and by the time we moved from that house, there were none left to take with us. A few years after we moved into our new house, Mom brought home three outdoor cats to help with the mouse problem in the shed. These guys weren’t the best hunters, but they were sweet as could be. They didn’t last long (a couple ran away, and another met a tragic end that, 16 years later, still devastates me), and that was the end of cats at my parents’ house.

What I wanted more than anything was an indoor cat. Indoor cats didn’t get run over. Indoor cats would sit with you while you read books. Indoor cats would always keep you company. My friends Allison and Sarah both had indoor cats, and I was smitten. The idea of a pet that could be with you at all times was my idea of paradise.

But pets at my parents’ house were strictly outdoors, so it was never to be. After graduating college and signing the lease on my first adult apartment in Minneapolis, I thought that could finally be my chance for a cat. But alas, I could not afford the $300 pet deposit. Instead, I signed up to be a volunteer cat cuddler (yes, that’s a thing) for an organization called the Minnesota Spay and Neuter Project. Once a week, I went to a home filled with foster cats and snuggled them. If I couldn’t have my own cat, this was the next best thing.

When I moved to Sioux Falls in 2011, I STILL couldn’t afford the $300 pet deposit. Still not. This time, I signed up to cuddle cats at the Sioux Falls Humane Society. I occasionally walked dogs, too, but the cats were always my priority.

In 2013, James and I bought a house. My first thought? I CAN FINALLY HAVE A CAT. (By that time, I could finally afford the pet deposit/vet bills/all the other things that come with pet ownership.) I wanted to adopt an adult from the Humane Society, but James’s parents’ outdoor cat had just had a litter of kittens. James fell in love with a floofy tabbico (tabby/calico) kitten, and after telling me that kittens at his parents’ house tend to be eaten by owls, I acquiesced. We named her Mona.

Mona has been both one of my greatest joys in life and biggest challenges. She made me swear off kittens FOREVER. She was a little monster, and I still have scars from her. Mona is aloof and wouldn’t snuggle us for YEARS. She has started sitting on my lap every day now that I come home for lunch, but that’s a recent development in her five-plus years of life with us. Mona hates the vet and is on their “bad cat” list. She has bladder crystals and has to be on special (expensive) prescription food for the rest of her life.

BUT. When James is sick, Mona will watch carefully over him. She greets me every day after work with a head bonk. Sometimes, she’ll purr so hard that she sounds like an owl. She’ll sleep on our feet at night and not move even when we turn over. She’s a real pain, but she loves us, and we love her.

James and I had been thinking about getting a friend for Mona for quite some time. We weren’t sure how she’d do with another cat – she would hiss and growl at any cats that happened to wander through the yard, so we were pretty cautious about bringing another cat in. But NO KITTENS, I said. We’re getting an ADULT this time.

But then we got kittens.

James was approached by a student who had two teeny farm kittens who wouldn’t last the winter. One was cross-eyed and mostly blind, and the other was a bony little runt.

They came to live with us.

Their names are Ned and Mabel. Mabel is mostly blind and a little deaf, but she’s the sweetest kitten I’ve ever met. 

Ned is not a bony runt any more, but he is baby Mona all over again. He’s a terror. 

But both of them have purrs bigger than they are.

We’ve had them since mid-October, and Mona is tolerating them. She doesn’t hiss at them anymore, but she’s not ready to be best friends. They’ll try to play with her, and Mona runs away… but Ned thinks she’s still playing, and Mabel can’t see where she went.

So now that cats in our house officially outnumber the humans in our house, we’re officially cat people.

And think I’m cool with it.

Why?

Thanks for asking.

Don’t get me wrong: I love dogs. However, my life does not allow for a dog. Dogs need much more time and attention than cats do, and dogs are not ok if you leave them over the weekend. Cats are. James and I are gone many weekends, and many of our weeknights are filled with work and homework. Not a lot of time for dogs, but plenty of time to pet cats.

I think cats need me more than dogs do. There are lots of dog people out there, but cat people aren’t as visible. And there are more cats than anyone knows what to do with. And to be frank, outdoor cats just don’t receive the care that outdoor dogs do. Ned and Mabel would’ve been toast on the farm, but they would have had more care if they had been puppies. If you see a cat wandering around outside, you assume it’s a stray – but if there’s a dog, you assume it’s someone’s pet and do what you can for it. But the cat might be someone’s pet, too.

Animal abuse of any kind is deplorable, no matter the animal. Cats, as smaller animals, are more easily overpowered and frequently fall victim to abuse. The world can be a terrible place, but the many rescue organizations working to heal these animals and find homes for them provide a light in that particular darkness.

Cats need us.

Recently, being a cat person has become socially acceptable. There is so much cat merchandise out there – more than dog stuff, I might venture. There are cat cafes where you can go and get a coffee and hang out with adoptable cats, and all sorts of places have shop cats (and library cats!). Society has decided it’s ok to love your cat. Like a lot.

And you know what? I do love my cats. They are happy to see me when I get home, and they’re good company when I’m lonely. When they fall asleep on me, my heart melts. They do funny things, and I take pictures and put them on Instagram. That’s why the internet was invented, right? For cat pictures?

Mona, Ned, and Mabel are all monsters, but they’re our monsters. Without us, they wouldn’t be alive. And without them, our lives wouldn’t be as bright.