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Bethany Howell (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

I was eight years old when my parents adopted Scoobi, a five-year-old tabby/tortoiseshell mix with a skittish personality and an affinity for buttered toast. After proving myself ‘worthy’ of more complex pets by taking excellent care of fish and a hamster, my parents brought me to the local animal shelter to pick out a cat. I remember begging to be allowed to get a dog instead. My parents, whether it be because of the amount of work it takes to raise a dog or lack of trust in my promises to always be the one to walk and feed it, decided against these pleas.  My father, sitting in the car with me before entering the shelter, assured me that we would not be coming home with a pet today – our goal was to look, not to adopt quite yet.

Scoobi was in a cage of her own, a bit smaller than the other cats and older as well. You could see in her eyes that she had a good life before this point – we later found out that she was raised by an elderly woman who could no longer care for her, commonplace in our retirement community. Her papers said that she was an adult, estimated five years of age, and that her name was “Scooby” due to her habit of getting into the dog treats. 

The day we brought Scoobi home – the same day my father made me swear not to be upset as we will be going home empty-handed – was the day I realized I was not as much of a dog person as I once believed. My parents asked me what we should name her and I steadfastly argued with my naïve child logic that you cannot just change someone’s name after hearing it for years. We finally agreed on changing the Y to an I and keeping ‘Scoobi’ as her name. Only much later did I find out that “Scooby” was a name given to her by the shelter and she likely had changed names multiple times over the years. Though Scoobi was shy at first, she eventually warmed up to myself and my parents and became a more loving companion than I thought a cat could be. Over the decade we had her, Scoobi was a comforting constant in my life. Though she would not greet me at the door and bark with excitement when seeing me like a dog may have, her understated and selective love made me feel like I deserved the appreciation she gave me. 

Cats are unlike dogs in many ways, the most crucial is believed to be the amount of effort required to take care of them. I disagree with this; I believe cats differ from dogs due to the time it takes for them to trust you. Dogs are liberal with their affection and trust, cats, on the other hand, require patience, much like relationships between people. I have learned over the years that a man who says that he prefers cats over dogs is a man who understands that relationships need time and that consent is key when it comes to gaining trust – after all, have you ever tried to pet and cuddle a cat who does not want it? 

Though I fully understand why people may prefer dogs with their high intelligence, trainable nature, and abundant affection, there is something about cats that has always appealed to me more. Maybe this is due to my more sedentary and bookish tendencies or maybe it is because I, too, take time to warm up to those around me. I, like Scoobi, was an anxious and shy individual all those years ago. Though I have grown to be outgoing, I still see myself through the lens of my cat-like personality.

In all honesty, I do not believe that one’s pet preferences directly relates to one’s personality; however, personality can lead someone towards a certain preference. I am a cat person, through-and-through, whether it be because of my past experiences or who I am. I am an individual creature, not a pack animal. I will always prefer the setting of a library with a large fireplace over a park or a nature trail. I need a companion that loves me specifically – not because I am the person that is currently giving them attention, but because they have taken the time to love me for who I am. 

I know many of you will argue that dogs, too, have these personality traits. To that I say, yes, of course! Yes, many dogs are like this and many cats are not. That is the beauty of reality – there is no such thing as objective truths about groups. All of what I have said has been generalized and may not be true between individuals. I use these statements not to say that they are always true, but to show my own perspective.

Though I don’t expect this post to change the most hardcore dog lover’s mind, I hope that it helps at least one person give cats a chance just as I gave Scoobi a chance. Sometimes, all we need is an open mind and an open heart to make a friend out of any four-legged furry creature.

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My name is Bethany Howell and I am a third-year university student majoring in psychology and minoring in family and child studies. I have a passion for writing and mental health, and my ultimate goal since age 13 has been to make a difference in the world through helping others, which is how I ended up here at Low Entropy!