How to Turn Your Man into a Cat Lord

You probably guessed from the title that I’m an unapologetic cat person, even though I come from a culture that has a strong preference for dogs. Don’t get me wrong, I like dogs and animals well enough, but I guess I’ve oftentimes felt an affinity for the underdog (or should it be undercat?). Growing up, I frequently managed to adopt stray cats that “followed” me home, much to my mother’s annoyance. She always came around though, despite raising us with the strictness of a drill sergeant. Once, my cat Bubba was sleeping ON her bed pillow, and I tried to shoo her away before my mother caught her (yes, Bubba was a she. I named her after my favorite teddy bear). I was too late, but much to my surprise, my mother said “Leave her alone mija, she’s not bothering anyone.” That’s when I knew my mother had come around to loving (or at least tolerating) my cats.

I digress, this story is not about Bubba, but about another cat. Fast forward to my mid-twenties, when I was living in NYC for grad school and in my first year of marriage with my husband; let’s call him Steve. At the time, neither of us were established in our careers and we weren’t sure whether we would stay in NYC; however, I really missed having a cat and wanted to embark on the journey of pet ownership as an adult. The problem was that Steve is allergic to most animals; the bigger they are, the worse his allergies get. In fact, we couldn’t walk near the horses of Central Park without his eyes tearing up. Not that he dislikes animals; on the contrary, the 10 days with Harvey the labrador has become part of Steve’s family lore. You see, when Steve and his brother were children, his parents decided it was time for a dog, and they put themselves on a waiting list to adopt a retired seeing-eye dog. That’s when Harvey, the black labrador, came along, and he was such a good boy. Steve and his brother instantly took to him; unfortunately, Steve’s allergies were so bad that he ended up hospitalized. Thus, after only ten days, Steve’s family had to make their teary farewells to Harvey and return him to the adoption agency, though his brother did make sure to ask “Can we take Steve back instead?” (In case you were wondering, Harvey did end up going to a loving home).

Anyhow, it took a little bit of convincing Steve. He and his brother did end up having pet rabbits growing up, I argued, so how much worse can a cat be? A friend then suggested that we foster a cat; after all, shelters always need volunteers so it’s a good way to get a feel for pet ownership without committing fully, since the idea is to have the pet outside of a shelter while a permanent home is found. Fostering was the perfect solution to our situation!

Ok, maybe I exaggerated; it wasn’t that hard to convince Steve. It was our first year of marriage so the honeymoon stage hadn’t worn off, and I promised to wash my hands frequently and keep our bedroom off limits to the cat. So step one of turning your man into a cat daddy is to get a cat during the honeymoon stage.

The next step we took was to go on Petfinder and search for a cat to foster. At first, I wanted a specific breed due to my fond memories of a cat of that breed, so I reached out to a shelter that specialized in rescuing that breed. In case you’re wondering about the breed, I’m not naming it because of the following awful interaction I had with the shelter, which almost turned me off from fostering altogether. ASPCA, take the below as a lesson of how NOT to treat prospective adopters. I wrote:

Dear Sir or Madam,

My husband and I are interested in fostering a rescue kitten since we have never owned a cat together. How would we go about signing up as foster parents? Could we foster one of Maizy's* kittens? Please let us know at your convenience.

Sincerely, Mari & Steve

*Maizy was a cat we found on their site who was adopted but had several kittens

The shelter’s response:

Hello, Mari & Steve!

Isolating a single kitten is a horrible idea as they suffer when denied their social needs. If your hearts are too small for a kitten pair, then please consider adopting an adult cat instead.

L.J. , NYC [cat breed] Rescue

The response was a little dramatic, but I decided to give L.J. the benefit of the doubt. My response:

Hello L.J.,

Thank you for your quick response. I should have mentioned that Steve is a consultant who works from home, so a kitten would not stay home alone all day. We would consider a kitten pair in the future, but seeing that we have not owned a cat together, we would like to start by fostering one; our hearts are not "too small". Does NYC [cat breed] Rescue have a fostering program?

Sincerely, Mari & Steve

Response from the worst shelter volunteer ever, verbatim:

Hello, Mari!

I had assumed that Steve was a human. Is he a cat? If he is not a cat, then the kitten would still be alone no matter how often Steve is in the house. The poor kitten would be horribly deprived of its social needs for peer playmates. It is physically impossible for a human to play AS a kitten under 10 pounds, and all the other species-specific cultural things a lonely kitten would miss out on.

This is somewhat analogous to having a child and never permitting it to play with other children. How kittens play with each other is very specific and distinct from human-interactive play. Studies have demonstrated how much healthier animals are when raised in pairs. Properly socialized kittens in fact make better pets.

Cats raised in isolation develop many behavior and health issues, and even become ailurophobic [did L.J. mean agoraphobic?] This can yield fatal results when the cat cannot survive the stress of proximity to other cats either in a vet office or shelter. Statistically speaking, every pet passes through these places, and those who are terrified by other cats are generally put down because they unsafe to handle due to their fear.

So, your selfishness in isolating one sad kitten not only hurts the animal but can kill it.

L.J., NYC [cat breed] Rescue

As you can imagine from the above interaction, I was completely turned off from fostering a cat, let alone adopting. L.J.’s tone was so condescending that I began to doubt myself. Was I a horrible cat owner all those years of taking in strays? This was becoming more difficult than getting approved by a co-op board (New Yorkers will know what I’m talking about).

I forwarded the above interaction to a friend who was a long-time cat owner, and she reassured me that L.J. was out of line. They could have just said ‘I’m sorry, but our policy is that kittens be placed in homes with other cats’ without the insults and attitude, seriously. L.J. could have just offered the explanation of the facts to educate prospective adopters; instead they ultimately hurt NYC [cat breed] Rescue’s end goals. My friend even offered to write an angry email to them to this effect, but I decided to move on and go through a different shelter. Incidentally (and not surprisingly), NYC [cat breed] Rescue seems to be defunct.

I asked Steve if there was a breed he was curious about, so he searched for “Russian Blue” on Petfinder. The first result was a lone awkward kitten that had her hind quarters shaved from an operation at a local animal hospital. Although Steve’s impression is that she looked “special,” (not in a good way), I reached out to the Mayor’s Alliance for NYC Animals to inquire about fostering her. The response from their volunteer, let’s call her Sinead, was such a breath of fresh air, like night and day compared to my previous experience. Sinead was thrilled that we were interested in fostering, and even encouraged us to first go meet Gem at the ABC animal hospital where she was recovering. Apparently, Gem was found in the Bronx with a fractured leg, which is why she was at the animal hospital and not the shelter.

We went to meet her at the animal hospital and of course we fell in love with her right away. Yes, she was awkward and seemed to not know how to be a cat, but she was gentle and all of the vet techs raved about how sweet she was. At the time, she was all ears and legs, emphasized more by the fact that her hind quarters were shaved from the surgery.

“Her back leg has a steel pin so it might be a little wonky, but she should live a good twelve years or so,” the vet reassured, “plus, she’s litter trained!”

We were sold. The next step was to sign paperwork, provide a reference (I of course used my cat-owner friend), select a local vet (we conveniently lived around the corner from a veterinary clinic), and have Sinead conduct a home visit to make sure we had screens on all of the windows of our NYC apartment. Sinead was even nicer in person, and she answered all of our questions patiently. Still wary about the reaction we got from the NYC [cat breed] Rescue, we asked whether we could take Gem on her own or if we would be required to find another kitten to keep her alive company.

“No, you can take Gem on her own. She is the way she is,” responded Sinead.

We didn’t know what that meant, but if we were good enough foster candidates for Sinead, that was good enough for us.

Soon after, Sinead let us know that Gem was ready to be discharged from the animal hospital, fully recovered, spayed and with all of her shots. She asked me if I could come by on a Saturday afternoon. That was perfect, I thought, because I had plans with friends to have brunch nearby that morning. I had even found a pet carrier on a stoop in my neighborhood that someone had thrown away, so I was good to go! (To this day, I am slightly horrified at the number of stoop and dumpster items I thought were acceptable to take home.)

Saturday morning came along, and I took the subway from my apartment to the brunch location with an empty pet carrier, excited about taking Gem home later that day. As expected but unbeknownst to me (remember, I was in my 20s), we had a very boozy brunch of unlimited mimosas and bloody marys, so of course I got more than a little buzzed. However, I was still functional enough to pick up Gemima with my dumpster animal carrier, so I put my best sober face on and headed towards the animal hospital.

The vet techs (bless their souls) were excited at first when they brought Gemima out to send her to her new home, but then clearly gave me the stink eye when they saw the condition I was in when I slurred “Put ‘er in the carrier! Pleeez. Tenkyou.” I know, this was not my finest moment, but rest assured that Gem and I made it back safely to our apartment that day.

A few months later, Sinead emails me to ask whether we wanted to continue fostering Gemima, the cat formerly known as Gem. By that point, Steve had taken more pictures of Gemima in all of her cuteness than of anything else, so I just emailed a picture similar to the one below to Sinead and just said, “We’re keeping her.”

Steve was still allergic, but that meant we were on top of frequent hand washing far ahead of the COVID-19 pandemic. Early on, Steve would often pet Gemima with a tape measure or any tool (a la Ned from the series Pushing Daisies) to avoid touching her with his hands. To this day, she gets super excited when we pull out the tape measure to measure anything (she also likes pliers, dowels and screwdrivers). Step two to molding your own cat lord: tell him you’re “fostering” a cat, knowing deep down that it’s really a straight-out adoption.

Gemima is still with us in another city, THIRTEEN years later and still going strong. She has been with us through ups and downs and countless moves. Over the years, she became a lap cat who has a set cuddling routine and genuinely loves belly rubs. (For those of you who have never had a cat, many cats expose their belly to lure you to rub their bellies, but it’s a trap!) She is well adjusted and confident enough to greet all of our guests. Apart from the stress of going to the vet (because let’s be real, ALL pets get stressed when going to the vet), Gemima doesn’t seem bothered by other animals. Honestly, Steve and I can’t agree on who would get custody of her if we ever split up, and Steve’s brother has already called dibs on her in case something happens to the both of us. In short, she is loved. Step three: let the cat adopt you.