by Ruth E. Thaler-Carter
There are times when I think I would like to become my cat.
She can sleep whenever she feels like it, and for several hours at a time. I usually have to stay awake throughout the day, primarily for work, and am at that stage of life when I’m up at night every two hours or so. Even without that, though, frequent catnaps and hours of uninterrupted slumber seem like a lovely dream.
She doesn’t have to earn a living, pay rent or a mortgage, purchase food, or pay utility bills. She has no responsibilities, deadlines, pressures, or demands to meet. Someone (me!) provides everything she needs — food, shelter, and entertainment.
Not only does my cat not have to worry about her weight or appearance, but her person tells her she’s beautiful, smart, and fun to be around. Without being prompted.
There would be no need to use or cope with technology. If something suddenly refused to function, my cat self wouldn’t know (or care), and I wouldn’t have to deal with frustrating systems and customer service options to get it fixed. Oh, and I wouldn’t have to worry about scammers, spammers, phishers, identity thieves, or other unsavory technological aspects of modern life.
She doesn’t have to cook or go anywhere to obtain food. As a person, I might find my cat’s diet a little boring. I would miss fresh fruit and veggies, sushi, chocolate, nuts, and the occasional steak or restaurant meal, but she seems to enjoy her dry food and Churu cat treats. Which she doesn’t have to buy or prepare.
As my cat, I wouldn’t face disappointments in personal or professional situations.
She enjoys being petted and stroked, getting skritches, and being massaged with brushes to keep her fur sleek. And she gets all of that on polite request, whenever she wants.
She can go a little nuts — zooming down the halls, chasing after invisible something-or-others, pouncing on and playing with the many cat toys scattered around the house — without anyone caring. With, in fact, the indulgence of her person, who finds all of that adorable and entertaining.
She doesn’t seem to mind the weird creaks, groans, crackles, thumps, and bumps — especially in the nighttime — of our cottage-like adobe home reacting to changes in temperature, humidity, and other weather. I’m still getting used to those somewhat nerve-racking noises, which never were part of apartment living, nor do I remember noticing them when I was growing up in my family’s home. If there is a scary noise, my cat-self can always run to her person for reassurance and (ideally) protection.
My cat self wouldn’t have to clean house, file documents and receipts, or otherwise deal with such domestic chores.
She’s safe and secure, never worrying about theft, accidents, attacks, the dangerous world around us, or politics. That would be such a relief. There are times when ignorance truly is bliss. As an indoor cat, I wouldn’t even have to worry about the potential perils of the outside world — dogs (and, where we are now, coyotes), careless drivers, mean people, or poison.
Of course, there are things I would miss in my new life as my cat…
Interactions with family, friends, and colleagues.
Adventures, big and small, in the real world outside our home.
Reading books.
Listening to music.
Noticing and admiring moments in nature.
Gardening.
Relishing independence.
Making things — artwork, writings, edits, and proofreading for appreciative clients. Driving.
Pride in my work, and praise from clients and colleagues.
Then again, as my cat, I wouldn’t know I was missing any of that.
And I wouldn’t enjoy the occasional trip to the vet for claw-trimming — maybe I would let my person do that — or shots. However, it would be lovely to avoid the seemingly endless barrage of doctors’ appointments, medical tests, and related hassles that seem to be part of a human’s life at certain points.
All in all, becoming my cat seems like a potential dream come true. There might even be nine opportunities to enjoy that lifestyle. Maybe I’ll have a next life as my cat, or at least a cat a lot like mine — whose person is as indulgent, protective, and appreciative as my human self.
About the Author
Ruth E. Thaler-Carter (www.writerruth.com) is an award-winning freelancer whose motto is “I can write about anything!”™ She writes profile, news and feature articles for international, national, regional and local publications and organizations; plans, writes, edits and produces newsletters and annual reports; provides conference coverage; writes and edits website content for associations, businesses and nonprofits; and presents about freelancing, newsletters, editing and proofreading, websites, and nonprofits. She is the author/publisher of “Get Paid to Write! Getting Started as a Freelance Writer”; author of the original Editorial Freelancers Association’s (EFA’s)“Freelancing 101: Launching Your Editorial Business” and co-author of the current edition, and co-author of the current edition of the EFA’s “Resumés for Freelancers”; and owner of Communication Central, which hosts a conference for freelancers. Her “What a Difference a Cat Makes” CWA blog post won a 2025 award from Missouri Professional Communicators.
Empress Bella Rose purrs from her castle, and she wants you to know she has a “UBI- Universal Bella Income,” a staff, spa pedicures, and she prefers that I, as her servant, remain a human.
Yes, I would also like to be my cat.
Very fun article, Ruth! There has been many times that I’ve been jealous of my cats. Some are lucky to have good human servants (like us). However, they all deserve the fawning and fussing.
And having written that post, I promptly took a Skitter-accompanied nap. 🙂
🙂 indeed.