#9: Here Comes the Cat Lady

move aside, make way

Welcome to Homebody Stories! A newsletter offering reflections from an ex-productivity enthucutlet trying to live a more meaningful life, one step at a time.

The house was unusually quiet. It was my cat Roo's dinner time. And yet he was nowhere near his bowl.

Suddenly, I spot him sauntering into the study, looking rather pleased with himself. As he approaches, my eyes widen in horror. A lizard's tail dangling from his mouth, the unfortunate creature's other half disappearing between his jaws.

I am in a state of shock (read: panic). I start yelling my lungs out for my husband, asking him to do something about it. I don't know how else to handle the situation. Roo, on the other hand, is calmer than the Dalai Lama. His expression reads: "Mommy, why you be shouting? I worked hard to bring you this thoughtful gift. You're welcome."

In the ensuing chaos, the lizard somehow manages to wriggle free and escape our house, minus its dignity and possibly a few years off its life from sheer terror. I'd love to claim some credit for its rescue, but let's be honest – my screaming hardly qualified as help. My husband made that clear to me.

On that note, let's dive into today's essay. I promise it contains 100% fewer lizards and 200% less screaming.

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By this point, we all know what J D Vance, the current U.S. Republican vice-presidential candidate thinks of us cat ladies. In his words:

"We’re effectively run in this country via the Democrats, via our corporate oligarchs, by a bunch of childless cat ladies who are miserable at their own lives and the choices that they’ve made and so they want to make the rest of the country miserable too."

From when Idli was a 2-month-old baby

Speaking of cat ladies, that's me with my younger cat Idli. We adopted him last December, and let me tell you, it's been a wild ride ever since. You know those viral reels where pet owners adopt a second cat, thinking their first fur baby is a heaven-sent angel, only to have the newcomer turn their world upside down? Well, folks, that's our Idli in a nutshell. As our househelp so eloquently put it, "Aapka ye chota wala billa bada tez hai." Truer words have never been spoken.

The whole of last week was unbelievably hectic as we got our little boy neutered. The post-surgery care instructions were simple: rest. But for Idli? Resting is for mere mortals. This dog-in-a-cat's-body fellow treats stillness like it's his sworn enemy.

Now, let me introduce you to the OG of our household, Roo (about to turn 4 soon). I adopted him during the pandemic when I was juggling multiple freelance content marketing gigs. (Little did I know then that I'd embrace the full-time freelancer life three years later. Plot twist!)

How can you say no to a Diwali party where your host looks like that?

Roo and I? We didn't exactly have a fairy tale beginning. This distinguished gentleman took his sweet time warming up to me. But let me tell you, the wait was worth it. Want to know the most valuable life lesson Roo has taught me over the years? It's simple: don't let anyone invade your personal space.

This cat is the king of boundaries (unlike Idli). He'll grace my lap with his presence and serenade me with purrs, but only when it suits His Royal Highness. And when he's had enough? He'll politely tell me to fuck off. If I dare to overstep and insist on petting him? Well, let's just say he's not afraid to use his teeth to express his disdain at my blatant disregard for boundaries.

And you know what? I wouldn't have it any other way. In a world that often pressures us to be constantly available and accommodating, Roo stands as a furry reminder that it's okay – no, it's essential – to set and enforce our boundaries.

When Stereotypes Don't Purr

The 'cat lady' trope isn't just about an abundance of feline friends - it's a loaded term, dripping with judgment. This centuries-old joke has evolved into a modern-day cautionary tale. It whispers in the ears of young women: "Be careful! One wrong move and you might find yourself alone with only cats for company!"

But here's the thing: this trope reveals more about society's discomfort than it does about the women it attempts to mock. And let's not forget our feline friends in this equation. Cats, with their aloof independence and selective affection, seem to ruffle feathers in the same way. They're the rebels of the pet world, refusing to conform to the people-pleasing standards set by their canine counterparts.

So, when you think about it, is it any wonder that independent women and independent cats often find kindred spirits in each other? Both refuse to perform affection on demand, both value their autonomy, and both seem to baffle those who expect unquestioning compliance to social norms.

In my circle of friends, I know women—gasp—who don't have children. But wait, it gets worse. These rebel souls are not miserable at their own lives. In fact, they are living their best life. Take my friend Su, for instance. She's fiercely independent, hard-working, has a huge friend circle and a cat named Poppins, and is one of the kindest souls I know. It's like she missed the memo on how to properly disappoint society's expectations.

Su with her Poppins

And how can I not mention Taylor Swift and all of her vocal cat love! Honestly, at this point, I'm ready for her album dedicated to her cats.

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In the end, perhaps the 'cat lady' isn't a cautionary tale at all. Maybe she's a revolutionary - a whisker-covered, purr-inducing symbol of choosing one's own path, societal expectations be damned.

So the next time you hear someone use 'cat lady' as an insult, remember: they might just be revealing their own discomfort with those who dare to live life on their own terms - be they human or feline.