🐾 Paws in My Heart, None in My Home
I’m a cat lover — and I don’t have a cat.
Strange, isn’t it? Like being a painter with no canvas, a gardener with no soil, or a violinist without strings. My heart is full of purrs I’ve never heard in person, soft fur I’ve never stroked, and tiny toe beans I’ve only admired through screens.
Cats, to me, have always represented a certain kind of magic: independent, mysterious, affectionate on their own terms. I’ve read books with cats curled in corners, watched films where felines make silent yet powerful statements with a single blink. I’ve followed countless Instagram cats who live more lavish lives than I do — and I’ve smiled at each one as if I knew them personally.
So Why Don’t I Have a Cat?
Life, mostly. Allergies in the family, strict rental policies, travel commitments, financial caution. All good reasons, but none that satisfy the ache.
It’s not that I haven’t tried. I’ve lingered at shelters, stared longingly at adoption forms, and whispered hellos to neighborhood strays. I’ve even dreamed of waking up to the gentle weight of a cat pressed against my legs, purring in rhythm with my heartbeat.
But every time, logic wins out. Not yet, it says. Not here. Not now.
The Invisible Cat
And yet, in a quiet way, I carry a cat with me.
In my coffee mug that says “Cat Hair is a Condiment.”
In the way I instinctively call “pspsps” to empty windowsills.
In the bookmarks filled with articles like “How to Tell If Your Cat Loves You.”
In the hope that one day, a little feline soul will come along when life finally says yes.
Until then, my love for cats is something I wear like a quiet badge — not loud or visible, but undeniably real.
For Others Like Me
If you’re a cat lover without a cat, I see you.
You’re not strange, or silly, or pretending.
You’re just someone whose heart has room for something you haven’t held yet — and that kind of love is rare and beautiful.
Keep loving from afar. Visit the shelters. Follow the rescue stories. Smile at cats in books and movies.
One day, maybe, when the stars align, when the lease allows, when time softens…
a little purring creature will curl up next to you — and you’ll finally feel whole.
Until then, you and I — we’re just homes waiting to be filled with paws.