Everybody shut up and look at my cat

If there’s one thing that’s remained consistent in the ever-changing Internet landscape, it’s the love of cats. So to spice things up on my site today, I’m going to tell you all about her.

We first met Seabreeze at the Regal Cat Cafe in Calgary in July 2019. Popularized in Japan, cat cafes are pretty self-explanatory — coffee shops where you can meet and play with adorable feline friends that are up for adoption. My husband and I went to the cafe for my birthday just to visit, but Seabreeze had other plans for us. She’d been at Regal for over a month at that point and was off in a corner by herself while the more outgoing cats drew everyone else’s attention. She was the last one that hadn’t been slated for adoption yet, and we were immediately smitten with this aloof little lady.

On August 9, 2019, we brought her home. All the advice I read online said that cats should have a “safe room” to adjust to their new environment; but as soon as we let Seabreeze out of her carrier, it was like she breathed a sigh of relief and decided the whole house was her safe room. She knew she was home.

We think that she had become overwhelmed with all the people and cats surrounding her at the cafe because the version we saw at home was like a completely different cat — still fiercely independent, but also playful, affectionate, and curious.

For example, it didn’t take her long to figure out how to open doors in our old condo, so long as they weren’t completely shut, by reaching underneath and pulling forward with her front paws. We didn’t let her in our room for the first year or so, so every night we’d see these little zombie claws come under the door trying to break in.

Seabreeze is full of delightful quirks. I’ve never met a cat who licks her humans as much as she does.

One time I decided to see how long she would lick if I didn’t move or stop her, and she worked her way from my fingertips to halfway down my forearm before she got bored. My skin was all pink and smelled like cat breath.

Or how she can be summoned by a whistle; but not just any whistle, it has to be a real song. Especially Habanera from the opera Carmen, for some reason. Sometimes I try different tunes just to see what resonates, but Habanera yeilds the most consistent results.

I’m glad we never bothered getting an expensive cat bed, because Seabreeze is far more content to hang out in (or on top of) her carriers, and lay on bags. In particular, canvas or nylon, like backpacks, suitcases, and even a pile of grocery totes. If it’s rock solid, she’s all about it.

In fact, when we packed her up to move to Leduc, I put an extra one of those heavy moving blankets in her kennel with her and she laid on that the whole drive up.

Seabreeze’s name, like all the cats from her initial cohort from the shelter, came from the vintage cocktail. We liked the name so we didn’t change it, but like every pet owner, we call her everything under the sun except for her given name. We mostly call her Miss Baby, or if she’s being naughty, Butthole.

Luckily she doesn’t get called Butthole often, unless she’s stolen my Fitbit or my wireless headphone case. One night she took off with my Fitbit while I was in the bath and we couldn’t find it anywhere, we looked for an entire hour, I even downloaded Bluetooth tracker apps (because the one pitfall of my Fitbit is that it doesn’t have a locator for itself), but attempts were fruitless. The next morning, I settle on the couch after another sweep of the house, and my foot brushes against none other than the Fitbit, buried under the blanket. I don’t know what draws her to my things, but it keeps me vigilant.

I’d wanted a cat ever since I was a little kid but was the lone cat person in my family, surrounded by dog people, and their dogs. My husband’s family have pet allergies so he grew up with a menagerie of fish, lizards, and a demonic tarantula. Seabreeze is the first cat both of us have ever had, and she’s genuinely perfect. Everything I could have dreamt of for a cat and more.