"Dorian Gray can steal anyone’s heart. I brought him home from the ASPCA in August 2021 to foster him for two weeks, which turned into a month, which turned into forever. He was part of their field-to-foster program, where rescued pets are immediately transferred to foster homes so they never have to set paws inside a shelter. The ASPCA gave me all the supplies I needed and even paid for my car home so the subway wouldn’t spook him. Upon arrival, he promptly claimed his side of the bed, and surprising absolutely nobody, I caught feelings for him and 'foster failed,' as they say. I signed his adoption papers in October 2021, and just like that, I got my first pet ever. I’ve never been so happy to fail!

I always wanted a cat but thought I couldn’t have one because I’m allergic. I considered getting a dog, but as a single woman living alone who travels frequently, I didn’t feel ready for that commitment. For a while, getting a pet felt out of reach because I didn’t have someone to share the responsibilities with. I researched other types of animals—I’m fascinated by snakes and briefly entertained getting one until I realized I’d have to feed it frozen mice—but nothing felt quite right. I volunteered to foster cats in part to test how bad my allergies really are. Could I tolerate fur on every inch of my studio apartment? With the right magical concoction of meds, yes! I’m also looking into getting allergy shots. The things we do for love!"

"It began as a Pandemic love story. A friend was fostering neonatal kittens at the time, and while I was not ready for the level of commitment that comes with neonates, I had been interested in fostering for a while, and seeing my friend do it inspired me to finally go for it and foster an adult cat. After some research to find the right organization and talks with my partner to get him on board with the idea, I applied to foster via @brooklynanimalaction. I thought the process would take a while but 24 hours later I got an email with a photo of a chunky, big-eyed sweet kitty, and a message that they have the perfect cat for my first foray into fostering. That was Meisha.

While I had big dreams of becoming this super foster and helping to find homes for a bunch of cats, Meisha included, it quickly became clear that this was going to become a foster fail. Only 10 days after meeting we just couldn’t picture life without her. Fast forward two years and we continue to grow more obsessed with her by the day!

Having Meisha in my life has honestly changed everything for the better. I work from home full time, so we basically hang out 24/7 and we’ve built a really special bond. While she’s not a lap cat, she does like to be in the same room (or sometimes even sit on the same chair) and I love that I can just look over my shoulder during the workday and chances are Meisha will be there either snoozing on the bed or perched on the windowsill soaking up some sun. On days when it feels like everything is going wrong or I’m feeling down on myself, when I look over at Meisha sleeping peacefully just fully blissed out it gives me a sense of accomplishment. If I’m able to provide this creature a happy stress-free life, then maybe I am doing something right after all."

"I adopted Tito in Chicago in 2017. I always had long-haired adult male cats growing up, so when I walked into Harmony House for Cats, (an adoption center in Chicago) I told the staff that ideally, that was what I was looking for. I remember they showed me cats in the entire facility and at the tail end they took me to the room where Tito was. The only adult male cat with long hair that they had in the entire facility. I was shocked by how friendly he was at first meeting him. He immediately rubbed his face on my purse and even sat in my lap during our first meeting. But I’m sure he was like this with everyone (and he still is) because there were so many applications in for him. As part of the adoption process, I was required to visit him at least three different times for an hour each to see if we actually got along. He was named Tito Puente at the center and after getting to know each other there, I felt that the name suited him. LUCKILY after putting in time with our relationship I won out and was granted permission to adopt him—fate."

"I adopted Mitzi the first night I moved out of my parents’ house after graduating college. I was going from a suburb in New Jersey to Brooklyn and I knew that the best way to acclimate myself to my new life and surroundings was to have the comfort of a cat by my side. After I unpacked all my belongings from the U-haul I took an Uber to Bushwick to meet a little short-legged, flat-faced 6-year-old cat named Mitzi that someone had posted about online. Wonky looks aside, my main criteria was that the cat liked to be held since this is something I enjoyed doing and my parents’ current cat would not tolerate it. When I first met Mitzi she was on the other side of the apartment. I called to her and she briskly waddled over to me as if we were already best friends. When I proceeded to pick her up she was pretty happy about it, and that was that! Everyone else in the room seemed surprised that she was being so nice to me, but maybe she just really wanted to get out of there. Shortly after I brought her home I noticed she had quite a sassy side, was territorial, and didn't fear anything or anyone. Looking back I can understand now how I became her third owner. She had a funny temperament, but she was mine and that was all that mattered. I’ve grown to respect that she knows what she wants and stands up for herself. She is definitely not a scaredy cat!"

"For better or worse, I am known as THE cat lady at work. I did not have any cats growing up but on a couple occasions, my sister and I helped find forever homes for the dumped cats we befriended in the forest behind our family’s restaurant business. Perhaps those deeds were a harbinger of my life today. After being spurred on by tales of a colleague’s fostering exploits, I signed up with a local rescue organization @MeowParlour during the thick of the pandemic. Several months into fostering, my husband and I were assigned a trio who, though unrelated, had come up through the rescue shelter together. My husband has fond memories of his childhood cat and we always agreed we would adopt. One week in, it became apparent we had a foster-cat fail situation on our hands. We could not choose among them and so we applied to adopt the whole group.

Ramses, an athletic Siamese mix, is the fearless alpha male of the bunch who lives life to the fullest. Nothing happens in our household without Ramses leading the way. His expressive eyes, dynamic energy, and pedicured paws make for an irresistible package. I adore all of my cats but he may just be my ride or die. He is extremely active, attention-seeking, and true to his roots, easily the most vocal cat I’ve encountered. We have a cat wheel and he is known for running on it at top speed while meowing loudly to be acknowledged. LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME! He also has an extremely affectionate side; nighttime cuddles are mandatory and he's known to interrupt my work video calls by promptly curling up in a ball on my mousepad with a deeply happy purr. It’s not uncommon to hear exasperated cries of RAMSES! among our family when he is hamming things up." -Anna

"I am a relatively new cat lady. Before I met Gigi, I was not into cats. Sure, there were a few here and there that melted my heart, but I wouldn’t have exactly called myself a 'cat lady'. I grew up with 4 dogs and never really interacted with any cats until college when the neighbor tabby cat named Tony terrorized me and my hamster named Carl. I didn’t know how to speak Tony’s language and he didn’t know why I would not let him play with Carl. We were not a match made in heaven. After college, I had to compromise on my preference for dogs when I met my fiancé Will who is a major cat daddy. Slowly and surely he warmed me up to the sweetness and uniqueness of cats and I was all in.

About five years ago, Will and I had just moved into our new apartment in the Gramercy Park area, and I desperately wanted a furry friend to join us, particularly one with grey fur and green eyes. I searched all the adoption agencies and went to Ollies Place in the East Village searching for the right cat that could be our third roommate. Will and I worked opposite schedules at the time so this became my full-time job at night—campaigning and searching for our newest family member. One May night we were walking home from Bar 169 up Second Avenue—buzzing from a night out and a few pickle martinis—when we were stopped dead in our tracks by this sweet little grey cat with big green eyes. I could not believe it! It was exactly what I was searching for and there she was! She emerged from a bush and went right up to us. Immediately friendly and sweet, she let us touch her and pick her up. We were smitten and brought her right upstairs to our apartment. it was the best decision we have ever made."

"Pimsleur T Kasbeer knows precisely what he wants. At night, it’s using my shins as a platform bed for his sleeping comfort. In the morning, it’s having his coat brushed with soft bristles for an unspecified amount of time that I’ll just have to guess at. In the afternoons, it’s evading his harness and leash, in hopes of finally catching that unwitting pigeon on the roof deck.

Pimmy doesn’t always get what he wants, but he will make a huge stink about it. Let’s say he catches me looking at my phone instead of fully focusing on operating his favorite wand toy (a faux pas). He’ll share his displeasure via a series of shrill meows, delivered in such proximity that the hot moisture from his breath tickles my ear.

If I don’t get out of bed fifteen minutes before his breakfast alarm (big mistake), I will experience the peculiar sensation of a single kitty claw tracing my scalp. Once I awaken to find that I am not having a nightmare about being serial-killed—but instead being toyed with by a mammal one-tenth of my size—he will have already collected a tendril of my hair, pulled it toward his mouth, and begun making slurping noises.

Since breakfast is his favorite meal (until lunch), as soon as I’m up, he’s already sprinting to the kitchen to supervise its preparation. In the case that the chow’s not up to snuff, he performs a dramatic double take, looking up at me, then to his sub-par heap of cat food, then back up at me, as if to say, ‘WTF dude?’"

"Both my partner and I had cats growing up, so it was no surprise that almost as soon as we moved in together, he suggested we adopt a cat. We went to the shelter in San Francisco intending to come home with one cat, but fell in love with a pair of calico sisters that were touted as 'a bonded pair'. Having lived with them for over 7 years now, this was clearly just an effective 2-for-1 marketing scheme, as they are not particularly affectionate, or demonstrably a bonded pair in any way. They don’t cuddle or sleep together, and in the rare off-chance one grooms the other, it very quickly devolves into a fight.

It took us over a week to settle on names for them, but we eventually landed on Biggie and Smalls. Their names are not ironic—Smalls is petite, a shorter-haired calico with gorgeous teal-green eyes, and Biggie, is larger, with long luxurious hair and the same beautiful eyes. Fun fact—my partner didn’t grow up in the US and had no idea who Biggie Smalls was when I suggested their names 😇 We never tried to teach them their names but they actually learned them (and each other’s) remarkably quickly. They come basically any time we call, which is incredible recall compared to our dog who we actually did try to train to come when called."

"Since I was a child, growing up in Northern Quebec, I've had an obsession with cats. When I was 8, I finally convinced my parents to adopt a cat from the ASPCA. T-Rex, a sweet orange tabby, was my first furry best friend and lived a long and happy life, in which he accompanied my family and me on camping and cycling trips. Upon moving to New York, I quickly became familiar with the bodega cats in my neighborhood, knowing each of them by name. I would often go out of my way to greet them during my morning commute. It became obvious that after several years without a pet, it was time to have a cat in my life again.

In 2016, while working at The Met Museum on the Upper East Side, I learned about the ASPCA location a few blocks away. Finding out about kitten season prompted me to visit the shelter one evening after work. In the kitten room, I noticed a scruffy, solitary little tabby. Fievel, then named Ivan by the staff, was a few months old and isolated due to being FIV+. Despite this, he was social, rambunctious, and playful, with a beautiful silver coat and a distinctive pattern on his white belly resembling a buttoned vest. His pink nose and dark eye outlines gave him a cartoonish appearance, reminiscent of Fievel Mousekewitz from 'An American Tail,' one of my favorite childhood movies. It was love at first sight. After a few days of routine surgeries and vaccines, I was able to bring him home to Brooklyn in the famous cardboard carrier."

"Potatoes originally lived with my mom and brother after they found him as a kitten in a grocery store parking lot. While he and I didn’t live in the same state, the first time we met, we became friends immediately.

A couple of years later, my mom was traveling and Potatoes needed a place to stay. So, he was brought out to Seattle to stay with me for what was meant to be a few months. The months turned into years, and when I first moved to New York, he was still living in Seattle with my partner at the time. I cried every time I saw a cat because I missed him so much—it definitely felt like a part of me was missing.

I finally moved into an apartment where my roommates would let me have Potatoes—and I flew out to Seattle to get him! He traveled so well on the flight, and it felt amazing to have him in my bedroom with me in the city. This traveling boy was born in Montana and has lived on both coasts. He has now been with me in New York for 7 of his 13 years. Everyone who meets him falls in love, and he’s truly the friendliest most affectionate cat I’ve ever met. He will always ask for what he wants, whenever he wants, almost always waking me up by 5am to feed him.

In the summer of 2020, I moved into my own place in Brooklyn, with the intention of adopting a cat friend for Potatoes. I had always wanted a kitten, but it was recommended that I get an older kitten, so as to not completely annoy Potatoes. I reached out to a rescuer on Instagram to see if she had any matches available when she sent me pictures of an older tuxedo kitten named Leo. Leo, at around 7 months old, had grown up outside in the spring and summer of 2020. He was TNR’d (trapped, neutered, released), as it was believed he might be too grown up to stay inside and be socialized.

However, he frequented the backyard of the rescuer’s neighbor every day. He would spend hours hanging out and playing with the person who lived there, eventually discovering that humans might not be so bad. Thankfully, he was brought inside permanently with a foster. After 'meeting' over FaceTime, I decided to adopt him."

“I adopted Hammie & Misko a week after I moved to NYC. I was 22 and living alone for the first time in my life, and I knew I wanted kittens. I have always been an animal lover. I had a dog growing up, and my family adopted an adult cat when I was in high school, but he was always really my mom’s cat. I knew I wanted kittens for my first pets that were just mine.

After checking out a few shelters and adoption events in NYC, I ended up with these tiny 3-month-old baby brothers from the same litter that had been found dumped in an empty lot on Long Island.

Now, we have been through 13 years, 5 jobs, 2 apartments, and 1 novel together.

They were wild kittens, climbing my curtains all the way to the top, getting stuck in cabinets, beating each other up at 3 a.m. It took several years for them to mature and calm down. They still fight and beat each other up a lot, and Hammie gets up on top of the fridge or the kitchen cabinets, even at 14 years old now.

Hammie is named after Alexander Hamilton. It was Hamilton’s birthday in January, right before I adopted them. But he’s had the name since long before the musical! Misko is named after a hockey player from Minnesota, which only makes sense to my friends from Minnesota.”

"We frequently refer to Clover as 'our special guy'. He has a pink nose and pink beans. He has no teeth and no neck! He’s also 7, which is special because he has Feline Leukemia (FeLV+) which is a chronic illness known to shorten a cat’s lifespan. At his last check-up, our vet mentioned many FeLV+ cats don’t make it past 5. Though Clover shows absolutely no signs of going anywhere, we still cherish every single day we get to live with this vibrant, outgoing, and adorable little animal.

Clover has come a long way since my boyfriend and I adopted him back in 2020. We adopted him through the @catcafebk but before that, they assumed he lived mostly as a street cat. After he was rescued from somewhere in the Bronx, beyond needing to be fixed he had filthy ears, a mouthful of rotten teeth, intestinal worms, and loose stools. I remember he had a thin, raspy meow, almost like he had a sore throat. After extensive dental work, medications, and lots of wrapping him up in a towel burrito for ear cleanings, I’d say he’s had quite the glow-up. I’m not sure if I’m happy to report this, but I can report that his meow is now piercing and unignorable."

"Churro is sweet and a little spicy—and unlike any cat I’ve ever met before. She’s a gray tabby with a big fuzzy belly (yes, she’s on a diet; no, you can’t pet her belly).

In 2016, I told my then-boyfriend (now husband) Max that before we got engaged, I had to make sure he was a cat person. Off we went to the ASPCA mobile adoption van in Union Square. One slow blink from Churro, and we knew she was the cat coming home with us.

Even though she had a hard life before her adoption, Churro is the most affectionate and hilarious cat. Frankly, there are some things she does that still bewilder me.

Churro eats by scooping up food with her paw. Initially, I was worried that it was because her whiskers were sensitive when they hit the sides of the bowl, but I’ve tried bowls in every shape, size, and material—it doesn’t make a difference. She prefers to make a mess by finger-painting her food area. And it doesn’t hurt that she gets to save a little dried food on her paw for later.

The strangest thing she does is that she asks to be picked up at least twice a day. She jumps onto the kitchen table, meows urgently, and waits for me to pick her up. Once I do, she’ll put a paw around each side of my neck and proceed to purr for a few minutes while I hold her. I’m never quite sure if she’s going for a hug or easy access to my jugular. It’s thrilling.

Her decision that cuddle time is over usually comes out of nowhere. If you don’t set up her dismount just right, she might bite you. One time she hopped up into my arms, nuzzled me, purred, and then without warning bit my lip so hard that I have a permanent scar. But I forgive and still love her."

"I never considered myself to be a cat person when I moved to New York 10 years ago. I didn’t grow up around them, mainly because my mother was highly allergic, and didn’t know many people with cats.

When COVID came to NY, it hit my life hard. Early on, I lost my grandfather and watched the city shut down while people around me left NYC for good. I was fortunate to have job security, but work was intense. My company was racing to develop a medicine for COVID, which often meant working around the clock with an urgency that made it feel impossible to focus on anything else. It all left me feeling overwhelmed and alone a lot of the time.

Then, I ended up fostering my best friend’s cat while she moved to London for a year, and it completely changed my relationship with cats.

Scar was a 16-pound gray Maine Coon who loved to go on walks, snack on whatever he could get his paws on, and keep me company while I worked. He made me realize how great companion cats could be, and how much I wanted one in my life more permanently one day. After a year together, I moved back to Brooklyn and Scar went back to his human, and I once again found myself being solo in my apartment.

In December 2021, I heard about a cat adoption event at @BushwickBark, featuring local non-profits including @whiskers_agogo. I was immediately drawn to Lucy, a two-year-old fluff ball with a spotted hair pattern, green eyes, a little dark ‘smudge’ above her mouth, and the longest whiskers I’ve ever seen. I was head over heels once she nestled her head into my arms when I picked her up for the first time. There were multiple applications for her already, so I nervously waited for a phone call. I almost screamed when I heard mine was accepted and I got to bring her home the week of Christmas."

"I adopted Steven in 2017 sort of on a whim—I had grown up with cats but hadn’t had one for about 12 years despite being a lifelong cat lover. It hadn’t really occurred to me that I could just get a pet as an adult until a fateful bottomless Easter brunch, and the next thing I knew I was deep in Craigslist listings setting up appointments to view cats. I ended up in touch with Good Home Pet Adoption, who had three cats available—one with white fur, one with a dietary issue, and a runt who hid the entire time. We fished out the hidden cat from under the couch and I snapped her up. This was my Stevie Nicks. And then, within a day of getting her home, she was immediately Steven.

Steven has been with me through many roommates, a long-term relationship, a temporary relocation, and now is my sole companion in my studio apartment. This past year that we have been on our own has taught me so much about Steve and we have gotten so much closer. She greets me at the door every day and pokes me with her paw to wake me up in the morning so I can come to the couch and she can sit on my lap. Steve absolutely loves tummy time and many parts of our daily ritual involve her flopping on the ground and waiting to be ferociously pet. She is also extremely vocal and communicates in little squeaks—I only ever get a full-bodied meow when she’s displeased, and that only occurs when I leave her to go on vacation. She is extremely affectionate and loves to headbutt me for attention because above all she LOVES company. I sometimes think about getting a second cat for her since she is 7 now, but I genuinely think she craves human attention above all else."

"I got Sage as a foster fail during the school-from-home days of COVID. I had always grown up with cats and had fostered in the past as a true cat-lover, and within a few seconds of having Sage, I knew it was going to be a foster fail. I really wanted a companion during a time when we would be home so much, but even past that I always loved to foster cats for the companionship and I could tell right away that she was going to be such a good one. When I first got her, she was a scrawny little kitty but she always had her big adorable thumbs. Sage is polydactyl and you can tell right away, she has about 7 toes on each foot! When she was a tiny kitten she would follow me all over the room which I found adorable, but I also realized I no longer had any form of privacy. She would climb up and sit on my shoulders, keep me company during online classes, and snuggle up with me at night."

"My mom is an animal lover, so we had dogs and cats around for most of my childhood. My boyfriend had a similarly pet-filled upbringing. Once we moved in together in NYC, it was only a matter of time before we started thinking about pets. We decided we wanted a kitten, and after learning that kittens do much better in pairs, we decided we’d get two and submitted an application to Brooklyn Animal Action.

I have a soft spot for orange cats (my mom’s cat Kitty, who is now 14, is also orange) and so when I saw pictures of the boys I had to meet them. We learned from their foster that they had been found in a backyard somewhere in Brooklyn along with their feral mom and one other littermate, a sister. Their mom, who had long orange hair like Roscoe, had been TNRed and the sister had been adopted to a home with another cat. I couldn’t believe how tiny and cute they were, only 8-9 weeks old at the time. Of course, we fell in love on the spot and had to take them home.

I liked the name Roscoe for a cat and my boyfriend liked Chester, so naming them was just a matter of deciding who got which name. I can’t recall now how we settled on that. But the mnemonic I came up with for friends who mix them up is C is C and R is R—that is, Chester is cream-colored and Roscoe is red.

It’s impossible to imagine life without them now. They sleep in bed with us most nights. I call Chester my 'butt warmer' because he often sleeps snuggled right up against my butt. Meanwhile, we call Roscoe 'propper' because he loves to sleep with his front half propped up on one of our legs or feet. It was life-changing for us to get a king-sized bed last year to more comfortably fit all 4 of us."

"With Gustav, it was love at first sight. I already had a giant fluffy black and white Maine Coon cat named Huey and had no intention of getting another. As we all know, a casual scroll through Petfinder can quickly turn into an excursion to pick up the adorable little face staring at you through the screen. After three hours of driving through the White Mountains during peak foliage, I arrived at the @conwayareahumanesociety and met the fluffiest little gentleman. Gustav was fully ready for a black-tie ball with his tuxedo coloring and little white shoes. He was the last kitten in his litter and seemed scared to be alone without his mom and siblings for the first time. After a few minutes, he curled up in my lap for the drive home. Little did he know, my lap would become his favorite spot for the next twelve years.

Huey was the alpha cat and bullied little Goose (as we quickly nicknamed him), but they settled into a relationship of chasing each other, followed by naps and baths in whatever sunbeam they could find. The brothers made a couple of cross-country trips as I moved from Vermont to San Francisco to Chicago. Sadly, Huey died in March of 2018, and while we were devastated to lose him, Goose was reborn into a new cat."

"Roarie is a female orange tabby, which I’m told is quite rare, making her my unicorn.

In May 2016, nearly a week after moving into my first apartment, and three days after graduating from grad school, my life was chaotic. But, born and raised a cat person, I was eager to adopt one of my own to share my then box-filled new home. I met and adopted my Roarie at the ASPCA in Manhattan here on the UES at just 8 weeks old. I named her after Columbia University’s mascot—the lion—my most recent alma mater. She’s the (graduation) gift that keeps on giving.

Growing up with pets, I’ve never lived a day without a cat. But I had never been the primary caretaker. Roarie and I walked the few blocks home, she in a cardboard carrier crying nervously, and me beaming with excitement. When we got home, the semi-panic set in that I didn’t really have a clue about how to care for a tiny kitten. Upon opening the box, Roarie quite literally jumped out, making herself right at home, never to be put in a box (or corner) again."

"When you meet me and find that I live with a cat you’d think I’m a cat person. But when you hear that I own a dog-walking business you’d think I’m a dog person. Neither is true. I’m an animal person. The notion of Dogs vs Cats was always so silly to me. Just like all beings, they are amazing in their own ways. I also give a massive side-eye to anyone who doesn't like cats because they do things on their own terms. Shouldn’t we all strive to give and receive consent when dealing with others? That being said, I had no intention of adopting a cat or any other animal companion. However, just over a decade ago I was living in Bushwick and this very handsome and super vocal street cat had other plans. My roommate had a dog and this super friendly cat would run up to rub faces with him and get a good sniff in. They quickly became BFFs! He eventually learned that I always had dog treats on hand and knew how to get them! He’d begun to meet me at my building in the morning and walk me towards the L train. On the way home, I’d call to him with tongue clicks and this fuzzy loudmouth would come frolicking over! One day he looked like he wanted pets but I’d dealt with enough cats with big boundaries that I hesitated. Well, never a man afraid of going after what he wants, he thrust himself up onto his hind legs and brushed his own forehead with my hand! The cutest move ever! My heart never stood a chance. A big snow blew in one day and I saw him curled up on someone’s stoop with the little female cat he would roam with. They were holding each other with snow falling on them. My heart broke. I watched and asked myself, “am I going to have to get cats?” And then I thought, ‘what would I name them?’ We lived on Moffat St which is where this feline and I developed a relationship. I decided that Mo would be a good name for him. She had a white star shape on her chest. My roommates and I were from Texas, so I decided Lonestar would be perfect for her. And once I knew their names, Mo & Lonestar, I knew that I was indeed going to have to get cats."

"The cat distribution system has blessed me twice in my lifetime. In middle school, I found my first cat, Snagglepuss, wandering the streets of my hometown on Long Island. When I moved back home again after college, I found Nightmare and her litter of abandoned kittens.

Nightmare and I were both going through hard times when we first met. She had clearly been someone's pet before getting knocked up and kicked out. I'd just moved back into my parent's basement after graduating college on the heels of a recession with no job prospects in sight.

No one wanted either of us, but we had each other.

I liked Nightmare right away. She was beautiful and tough to win over. My type of girl. A tiny black cat with big bright eyes and a spicy personality. One minute, she'd be rolling over and rubbing up against you; the next, she'd turn around and hiss. But the more I learned her body language, the better I anticipated what she liked and didn't like. My dad started calling her Nightmare because of her attitude, and the name stuck. It's made vet visits very entertaining.

It's crazy to think back to the summer we met 14 years ago. She's come such a long way in terms of trusting humans again, specifically me. She was never a cuddly cat and always liked her space. It took years for her to voluntarily sit on or even next to me, but now it's part of our daily routine. She loves to come up to my lap when I'm sitting on the couch, gently place her two front paws on my leg, and look up at me. When I'm lying down, she likes to sit on my chest and snuggle up as close as she possibly can to my face."

"My parents ran a veterinary clinic together while I was growing up (my Dad is a vet and my Mom ran his business) so I’ve been around animals my entire life. Their clinic was basically our second home so my sisters and I saw and did everything from a super early age. We walked dogs, cleaned kennels and litter boxes, and saw all sorts of complicated cases when my parents would have to bring animals home with us for overnight care. I’ve never felt at home in a place where there isn’t an animal.

I rescued Ladybug from @flatbushcats in 2019. I’d just ended a marriage and was restarting my life and my former partner had kept our shared cat, Reggie. I was heartbroken but knew that Reggie was in a safe, happy home and that this was an opportunity for me to give a good home to another cat. I saw Ladybug in an Instagram video and felt instantly connected to her. She had been rescued in Brooklyn after walking up to people up and down the street asking for help. She was tiny, only 4 lbs, and covered in open sores on her face and feet but thankfully my friends Sarah and Ed took her home and nursed her back to health. Ladybug was kind of a disaster. She was starved, had a distended belly that turned out to be the result of necrotic tissue inside of her, a dislocated hip, and had huge open sores on her face and feet which we eventually learned was due to a Cryptococcus infection. Crypto is a fungal infection that is uncommon in the NY area so it took several weeks to get her a diagnosis and started on the right medications.

After I’d shown my parents her videos and told them I was in touch with the rescue to adopt her, my dad said “she seems very sweet, but you know that you don’t have to adopt a disaster.” A few weeks later when I brought her home we bonded instantly. She was so sick and frail but would just sit in my lap for hours and purr constantly. We both had a lot of healing to do at that point and wound up being the perfect match for each other. She loves to cuddle and be held. I’ll often make eye contact with her from across the room and she’ll just start purring immediately!"

"My family has always been big on pets, and having a furry friend or two at home is pretty much my baseline. So when I moved to New York in the summer of 2012, I got the keys to my apartment on July 1 and on July 2 I promptly went to the ASPCA to get a cat.

Layla, who was two years old at the time, was one of the first cats I saw. I went up to her crate and she gently pawed at the door like she was asking to come home with me. As I walked around to see some of the other cats, I grew increasingly nervous that someone else would pick her before me, and realized I couldn’t let that happen. So, one Layla, please!

The ASPCA gave all of their cats a personality type, and they dubbed Layla a 'Personal Assistant'. It couldn’t be more accurate. Unless she’s relaxing in her heated bed or splashing around in her water bowl (which I keep in the bathtub to contain the mess), she’s curled up next to or on top of me. She follows me around the apartment all of the time, sitting on the bathroom sink while I brush my teeth, she likes to hang out in the bathroom while I shower, and she claims half of my pillow in bed every night. My partner Tim and I call her our chaperone because she’ll always come over and squeeze herself right between us any time we’re on the couch together. She also has what we’ve nicknamed 'resting concerned face'. Between her tabby facial markings and big green eyes, she has a funny, worried look on her face a lot of the time. It fits in with her chaperone vibe, but don’t worry, it’s an expression of curiosity more than anything else.

One thing that always gets Layla purring is being brushed. It’s her favorite thing in the entire world and I can’t emphasize enough how much she loves it. If you put the brush down before she’s had her fill, she’ll start brushing herself by rubbing her face against it, or knock it off the table as a cry for more. Whenever she has a lengthy vet visit, I put a brush in her carrier and tell them how much she loves it. I think the vets often underestimate it because when I pick her up, someone invariably says something like 'Wow, you weren’t kidding about that brush!'"

"My 15-year-old dachshund passed away right before the pandemic started, which was devastating. Being at home without him during the lockdown made it even worse, as I could feel how quiet and empty my apartment was. After hearing that animal shelters needed help fostering at the beginning of the pandemic, I quickly volunteered to foster a cat. I’ve been around cats since childhood, as one of my sisters had three cats at one point in her apartment. I myself have never owned a cat and was a bit nervous.

Baby came into my life very quickly. She arrived in my apartment two days after I signed up as a foster parent, and I scrambled to the nearest pet store to purchase everything I needed. Walking home with that bag of cat litter nearly did me in. I was lucky that Baby was my first cat. She was unafraid of humans and immediately started talking and giving me headbutts. I got the most talkative cat in the world, and she must be unique. It’s magical to receive and feel the comfort and love that is truly unconditional.

I wasn’t planning to keep her, but when the organization was ready to adopt her, I panicked and decided I did not want her to leave. She belongs with me.

Baby is the queen of the apartment. She's also vocal about her needs. I joke that she hosts an opera concert when her inner clock tells her it's time for her meal and her human needs to leave the bed immediately. She knows what the alarm means, and there is no tricking her."

"After taking care of a goldfish for several years, I decided that it was time for more responsibility and a deeper connection with a different and much furrier animal. It was time to adopt a cat. To be frank, this decision was also partially influenced by a cat-shaped water stain on the ceiling of my first NYC apartment that I fell asleep to every night.
I initially applied for a tiny Persian but when the adoption company replied, they said they had the perfect solo cat for me that was in urgent need of a new loving home. There was no information available online yet, but I could go and take a look the next day.
Panya (at this point temporarily named Galileo) was huge and fluffy, with an impressive black and white coat. He looked scared and squeezed himself into the corner of a cage. Apparently, he’d been through a lot. It seemed like his previous owner abandoned him in the apartment he moved out of and Panya landed in a kill shelter, where Zani’s Furry Friends saved him.
Even though Panya was much bigger, he was afraid of the other approximately 20 cats and small dogs playing so he had to be separated. He looked at me with his big green eyes and I knew we were meant to be (and yes, he looked just like the water stain).

I said “YES”, and it all went fairly quickly. They put him in a big cardboard box, and we got into a cab and drove off to Brooklyn—I was a first-time cat owner (or servant). Panya (I named him after my favorite Japanese bakery back then) started to meow like a little lion, the cab driver was a little freaked out, and so was I, but we knew with a good amount of love and patience it would be fine."

"I adopted Ollie in 2015. At the time, I was living with two roommates, in an apartment that was deeply infested with mice. I wanted a cat and my roommates had mixed feelings, but I think the mice helped convince them. I had some experience with pets—my family briefly had a dog and a cat, and my mom got a dog when I was in high school. I took the dog in after she died. I’d also lived with partners who had cats and had gotten pets with partners. But Ollie was the first cat— the first pet—that I chose, just for me. The first one that was truly mine.

I didn’t really know how to pick a cat. I visited a few different cats, and when I met Ollie, he just crawled right into my lap. And that was it. He had this black mark on his nose and this little beard and I just melted. He picked me, for sure. His foster family said he had been wandering the streets in BedStuy, trying to see if anyone would let him inside. With his charm and sass, how could anyone say no?

Ollie is absolutely the king of the castle. He always wants to be where the party is. He greets me at the door when I come home, and always says hello to my guests. But he also likes his space— he will turn on you quick if you’re petting him and he decides he doesn’t like it. He’s also super snuggly, but on his own terms. My favorite is when he snuggles up in my armpit at night, or when he becomes a little purr machine on my chest. He loves to go exploring in the hallway. He’ll wait at the door when I’m about to leave—he’s so damn smart, he knows when I’m packing my bag or putting my lipstick on it means I’m about to leave, so he just parks himself near the door. Sometimes I have to lure him away with catnip or treats. He also loves to sneak into my coat closet—though one time I didn’t notice he’d snuck in there, and I left him in there all day. In retribution, he peed on a coat that an ex of mine had left behind. Oops. (But also - way to go, Ollie.)"

"Growing up in rural Mississippi, I don’t remember a time when I didn’t have a pet; my social anxiety as a child made it difficult for me to feel connected to my peers, and I relied a lot on my dogs and cats over the years as a source of emotional comfort. So when I moved to New York City in 2008 for college, surprisingly one of the biggest adjustments for me was the void of not having a pet.

When I came home from my freshman year, I knew that I wanted a cat. I found a 'free to good home' advertisement in the classifieds of my paper and arranged to pick up my now-fifteen-year-old cat. In retrospect, and with some experience fostering bottle babies, he couldn’t have been more than five or six weeks old. My nineteen-year-old self didn’t realize how being adopted so young could negatively impact him at the time, but he was also living outside and the person who was giving him away was going to 'get rid of him soon' if he wasn’t adopted. One of the most interesting things during that exchange: the woman who was giving him away wanted to make sure that I wasn’t going to harm him in any way since apparently, people adopt black cats to do that. So I took this tiny, bobble-headed little kitten home with me and named him Black Sabbath (Sabby for short).

My family and I have always joked that Sabby lives up to his name. During his first Christmas when he was about six months old, he famously peed all over my stepdad’s extensive 'Christmas village' set-up. I can’t prove it—but my stepdad isn’t the most cat-friendly person —and I am pretty sure Sabby did it out of spite!

Over the past 15 years, Sabby’s and my relationship has changed and grown so much. We’ve moved cross-country together (twice), dealt with roommates, break-ups, health scares, and more. I love that he is such a social, curious cat. Whenever a person comes over to my apartment, he wants to greet them and be in on all of the action. He spends a lot of his day staring out either the front or back windows of my apartment, watching what’s happening on my street, taking stock of the birds and squirrels in the backyard, and begging for me to put cat TV on."

"Marble and I started our shared life together in 2020 at the height of the pandemic. I was thinking about fostering for a year at this point and finally decided to follow through after my boyfriend and I thought we could use the company during lockdown. I’d always liked the idea of adopting an adult cat or a black cat since they tend to have lower adoption rates overall. I just happened to see her profile one day on PupStarz Rescue’s website and immediately knew she was the one. She was described as 'sweet and petite' but also 'bold and sassy'. If I remember correctly, she was 'a total hoot to have around'. I submitted an application immediately. About a week later, which just so happened to be around my birthday, I was approved! Best birthday ever."

"I’m from the Midwest, so if you had told me when I was younger that I’d be an adult in NYC with cat(s), I would have told you that you are crazy. When I moved into my first apartment in Chicago by myself (after years of living with my best friend, Katie, and her cat, Lidia), I decided I needed a pet to keep me company.

I adopted Meredith in December 2013, on a whim, after seeing her the on Anti-Cruelty Society’s website. At the time, I was living in Chicago and I already had Matthew (another tuxedo and the sweetest boy ever) and I thought he needed a buddy. She had almost identical markings as Matthew and I also adopted him from ACS, so I thought it was a sign. Matthew was 3 at the time, so he was still a frisky teen cat, but the adjustment to having a kitten sibling was a lot! I have so many pictures of her being absolutely wild and him looking at the camera like 'Mom you have ruined my life!' Eventually, they became buds. Matthew passed away this past September, so Mere and I are still adjusting, but she is certainly thriving as the center of attention!

Mere has always been a champion lurker—she will sit across a room and just stare, not blinking, until you crack and look away. Meredith has always been very sweet and likes to snuggle, but Matthew was an extreme clinger and hogged all my lap time. I think she knew her place in the power structure, so she let him call the shots. Now that it is just the two of us, she has become my little sidekick. She still is an independent woman, but she lurks less and snuggles more."

"My parents were cat people, and for my eighth birthday, they let me pick out a cat to take home from our local animal shelter. One of the happiest days of my childhood was meeting and saving a tiny gray and white kitten that I named Nermal, after the cartoon cat Garfield’s nemesis. Nermal and I had a very special bond, and I’ve pretty much had a cat since then.

My current cats are named Freckles and Frankie. Freckles is a gorgeous medium-haired tortie that my husband, Oliver, and I adopted from PupStarz in March 2019. Shortly before we adopted her, our prior cat Whitey Ford had died. Whitey had been given to Oliver by our former landlady, Rose, when she moved into a nursing home. Rose just walked upstairs with Whitey and said, “You’re taking the cat!.” Whitey was a very sweet cat, who was also deaf and blind. After she died, I thought we wouldn’t have another cat for a while because Whitey had a lot of health needs and it had been so hard at the end. But two weeks later I was like, “I miss the sound of little claws on the hardwood floor. We need another cat!”

We were trying to adopt a younger cat and reached out to a few adoption agencies without any luck. Then I saw a photo of Freckles, and I just thought she looked hilarious. It turned out she was being fostered in Long Island, but we decided to take the LIRR out to meet her anyway and that was one of the best decisions of my life!

In some ways, Freckles is more like a dog than a cat. If the doorbell rings, Freckles is the first one to run to the door to greet our guests, she plays fetch, she adores a brush and a belly rub, and she loves to play with toys. She is not a lap cat, but she is a champion couch snuggler. She doesn’t care about food, but she is always hungry for pets. She will sit next to you and tap you with her little paw or swipe at you (no claws, just a love pat!) if you are rude enough to walk by her without giving her some affection. She is just a special little soul, and everyone who meets her loves her."

"Minnie and Archie were exactly what I needed in 2020. At the start of the pandemic, my previous cat passed away. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for another cat so soon, but when I saw Minnie and Archie’s pictures online it was love at first sight. I got on a video call with their foster and met Archie, a beautiful diluted orange tabby, and Minnie, his twin but in gray and brown, and I knew these cats were for me. There was one complication: Minnie was FIV+. FIV stands for Feline Immunodeficiency Virus and is a disease that attacks the immune system of infected cats. It’s usually passed by very deep bite wounds, or, like in Minnie’s case, from mother to kitten. It was potentially a big financial and emotional commitment to adopt her—and unknown if she would have complications when she was young or if she would live a relatively normal life. I knew I could provide a loving environment for her no matter how much time we had together. Minnie has had a few health issues since I got her (some big and some manageable), but then so has Archie. We never know how much time we have with our pets, and her diagnosis makes me cherish the time I have with her even more.

It helps that Minnie has never let her FIV slow her down. She has been such a character from day one. She is always running after me—hoping for a snack, or to toss a pom-pom ball so we can play fetch (something I never knew cats did before her). She is very vocal and has full conversations—with me, her brother, or birds outside our window. She’s always talking to something. She always lets me know when she deserves a bite out of my turkey sandwich. Every day, she follows me into the kitchen to watch as I make my lunch, hoping for something to come her way. I think both cats think the kitchen exists to provide food exclusively for them."

"I’m an only child and I grew up pretty attached to our family pets—Cloudy, a beautiful German Shepard, and Boris, the world’s coolest cat. After living in NYC for many years without an animal I was kind of desperate and talked my husband into fostering a puppy, hoping it would convince him to adopt a dog with me. It turns out that living with a dog in Minnesota is a very different experience (plus my parents did all the work) and I realized that having a young dog in a New York apartment isn’t the easiest thing in the world. After our foster puppy was adopted, I decided maybe I wasn’t ready for a dog of my own and turned my attention toward cats. My husband was 'not a cat person' and said that the only way he’d ever agree to get a cat was if it magically appeared, but this was not 'no' so I low-key started applying to all kinds of cat rescues in the city. The problem was that picking just one cat to bring home was too heartbreaking for me and I started to think maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

As fortune would have it, my cousin found a tiny brown and white kitten outside of her apartment in Bed-Stuy the same week that my husband was out of town, so I went right over to meet the kitten. She was in the bathroom, curled up on a cashmere scarf, but the second she had an opportunity to run free she was zooming around the living room. The glare she gave me with her big green eyes when I finally caught her sealed the deal and I brought her home."

"The one thing my partner, Dan, and I knew when we moved to New York in 2014 was that we were not going to have a cat for the simple reason that our building didn’t allow them. What kind of broken person would forbid cats in their building? “Who hurt you, Mr. Landlord?” I wanted to ask our sad, bald, angry landlord. He clearly could have benefitted from owning a cat. It wouldn’t have made him any less bald, but two out of three ain’t bad.

Fast forward five years, and Dan and I are both cat people without a cat. We’re watching cat videos on YouTube, texting each other cat memes, and snuggling random strays when we travel. It was about as sad as it sounds. So, we finally cracked and went to the Animal Care Center of NYC to foster a kitten. Our idea was to get our kitten snuggle fix for a few weeks to just tide us over until we moved to a new place. Our smelly landlord (I forgot to mention before that he was smelly) would never know. It was the perfect crime.

Leo came to us from the NYACC in a box sight unseen at five weeks old. He was a bog-standard gray tabby NYC stray. More lowly and ordinary beginnings you could not find. We tried so hard to avoid getting attached, but this furball had his own plans. We cat people love to anthropomorphize our pets, and I know that we were just hallucinating, but the way he broke us down felt intentional, strategic, and borderline predatory."