It’s a truth universally acknowledged that dogs are “man’s best friend.” This saying is ingrained in our culture, painting a picture of playful, loyal canines as the ultimate companions. Dog lovers are often seen as outgoing, friendly, and quintessentially American. Dogs, with their tail wags and eagerness to please, hold a special place in the hearts of many and are statistically the more popular pet.
However, let’s dare to challenge this deeply rooted dogma. Let’s step away from the barking chorus and consider the quiet purr of feline superiority. It’s time to explore why, in a world obsessed with canine charm, cats are actually the better choice.
While confessing your love for dogs is always met with warm approval, admitting a preference for cats often raises eyebrows. Cats are unfairly stereotyped as aloof, fussy, and even neurotic. “Catty” is synonymous with mean-spirited. Black cats are harbingers of bad luck. Even in fiction, the infamous “Cat Person” was, well, infamous for a reason, and owned cats as a signal of his unsuitability.
The stereotype extends to cat owners, particularly men. A man who loves cats? Society whispers “weird” or “unmanly.” As essayist Tim Kreider humorously notes, there’s a “stigma attached to Cat Bachelorhood,” a fear of becoming the stereotypical “Cat Guy.” Yet, even Kreider couldn’t deny the undeniable charm of his feline companion, confessing the urge to bury his face in her “warm plush cat ball.”
Pamela Paul, the author of the original article, arguing in favor of cats.
In movies, a man with a cat often signals loneliness or loser status. Consider the film “Hit Man”: the awkward, solitary character, Gary, has cats. The attractive, confident version of the same character? He’s a dog person.
For women, the “single woman with cat” trope is even more loaded, practically a scarlet letter signaling spinsterhood. Multiple cats? Cue the “crazy cat lady” label, conjuring images of isolation and eccentric behavior. This harmful stereotype even seeped into political attacks, with the dismissive “childless cat lady” jab aimed at Kamala Harris.
As someone with three cats (yes, three!), I feel compelled to set the record straight. Whether it’s three cats or one, the beauty of feline companionship lies in their inherent independence. Cats are naturally house-trained. They possess an innate grace, always landing on their feet. They are content indoors, finding amusement in observing the outside world from a window, chirping at birds without the need to chase and potentially harm them.
Think about the alternative: dogs. Imagine if dogs came pre-programmed with good behavior. If they didn’t bark incessantly, require constant walks, shed mountains of fur, emit doggy odors, or demand endless grooming, perhaps they’d be more appealing.
Dogs demand so much: more time, more attention, more energy. In return, they offer an abundance of slobber, enthusiastic tail wags, and unwavering, sometimes overwhelming, loyalty. But is there something a bit…unsettling about this eagerness to please? As Tommy Tomlinson wrote, dogs “live to please us,” making themselves “essential to our lives” through this very dependence. Their love can feel childlike, stemming from an inability to be otherwise.
Mark Twain, a known cat enthusiast, famously questioned, “By what right has the dog come to be regarded as a ‘noble’ animal?” He astutely observed that the more poorly you treat a dog, the more subservient it becomes. A cat, however, is different. Mistreat a cat once, and you’ll earn a lifetime of dignified distance. Cats, in essence, are for those who appreciate a more mature dynamic.
Cats are discerning creatures, and rightfully so. They enter a room with an air of self-possession, acknowledging you on their own terms. They have boundaries. Over-petting or incorrect petting will be met with clear signals of displeasure. Most cats prefer not to be carried around or forced into situations they dislike. Forcibly confining a cat to a carrier is a recipe for feline fury.
This isn’t to say cats are incapable of affection. Quite the opposite. But their affection is earned, not automatically given. You must learn their language, understand their subtle cues, and respect their moods. And the rewards are immeasurable. Discovering that perfect spot to scratch behind an older cat’s ears, or having a cat confidently settle onto your lap, knowing they are safe and choosing to be there – these moments of connection are pure bliss. When a cat seeks you out for affection, not just food, you know you’ve truly earned their trust.
The children’s book “The Story of Mrs. Lovewright and Purrless Her Cat” beautifully illustrates this point. A lonely woman adopts a cat hoping for a cuddly, purring lap warmer. Purrly the cat refuses to conform, demanding his space and biting when imposed upon. It’s only when Mrs. Lovewright learns to respect Purrly’s boundaries and accept him as he is, that a genuine bond forms. True love, whether with humans or animals, is built on mutual acceptance and respect.
And this is the crux of why cats are superior. They are, in many ways, more like people. They can be adored but not controlled, responsive but never subservient. They offer a relationship built on mutual respect and understanding. Why should we expect less from our animal companions than we desire in our human relationships? Cats offer a sophisticated, independent companionship that is far more rewarding than the often-unconditional and sometimes overwhelming devotion of a dog. For those seeking a genuine connection built on mutual terms, the choice is clear: cats reign supreme.
