How You Treat Your Cat Reveals "What You Want for Yourself"!? — Psychology Insights from Life with My Beloved Cat

The way someone interacts with animals reveals a lot about their character. For example, I'm the type who expresses overwhelming affection to my beloved cat, even if she's a bit put off. My husband, on the other hand, only pets her when she approaches him, a picture of ideal interaction that truly captures her heart.

Why is there such a difference in how we interact with our beloved cat? When I pondered this, a phrase I once read in a book came to mind: "How you treat animals is how you want to be treated."

When I consciously used that phrase to self-analyze how I interact with my beloved cat, I had to admit, "That might actually be true..."

Do people express the affection they want to receive to their beloved cats?!

The expressions of affection that feel "comfortable" vary from person to person. I'm the type who feels secure with an abundance of affection. I frequently tell my beloved cat things like, "I'll always love you," "You're a good girl," and "You're so cute."

But come to think of it, those are the very words that make me happy and feel at ease when they're said to me.

Are humans perhaps telling their beloved cats the words they themselves would be happy to hear...?

Questioning this, I began an experiment. Instead of saying "I love you," I told my husband, who strangely always praises me with "You worked hard being a cat today," "You worked hard being [husband's name] today."

My husband, while laughing and saying, "What was that?!" also looked somewhat pleased. He stroked my head and said, "Thank you for being so thoughtful."

Seeing his reaction, I remembered, "Ah, indeed, my husband always appreciates even the smallest considerations excessively," and made a realization.

Perhaps for my husband, "consideration" is the highest form of affection. That's why he's always considerate of me and our beloved cat, and he's happy when something he values is done.

Perhaps our unconscious words to our beloved cats reveal more of our true feelings than we realize.

The desired distance from your beloved cat might be the same as with humans...?

It's not just the words we speak; the distance we keep from our beloved cats also seems to reflect our true feelings. I was the type who wanted my beloved cat to be constantly by my side. This tendency also appeared in my romantic relationships; I felt "loved" when my partner stayed close to me for a long time.

On the other hand, my husband is the type who absolutely needs alone time, a common trait among men. He doesn't demand that our beloved cat be constantly by his side.

My husband also respects my freedom. When I'm absorbed in my hobbies, he sometimes shows kind consideration by intentionally not speaking to me. Living with such a husband, I learned that love doesn't break even if we're not constantly close.

In the family I grew up in, everyone was scolded if they didn't adjust their actions to my father's, so I unconsciously mistook "always being by someone's side" for love.

Since realizing that, I feel like the days I demand my beloved cat to be "constantly by my side" have decreased. When my inner "lonely feelings" run wild, I sometimes hug my beloved cat tightly to recharge my love, but I now feel that "we are connected even if we are not constantly together."

Before, if my beloved cat didn't come when called or was freely enjoying herself in another room, I felt very lonely. It felt like I was all alone in the world.

But now, instead of "lonely," I can smilingly accept her freedom, thinking, "She's enjoying herself in her own way too."

This change in perspective has also reflected in my interactions with people other than my beloved cat and husband, and I've become able to respect others a little more, understanding that "others have their own circumstances and the right to spend their time freely."

Reflecting on the distance with your beloved cat might even be an opportunity to re-evaluate how you nurture human relationships.

What I don't do to my beloved cat is what I don't want done to me

"How you treat animals is how you want to be treated" implies, conversely, "you don't do to animals what you don't want done to you." What did I not want done to me, and how have I dealt with my beloved cat?

When I looked back, the first thing that came to mind was how I cared for my late beloved cat, Gigi, in her final moments.

Gigi passed away due to a recurrence of angiosarcoma, a rare malignant tumor in cats. Before starting palliative care, I struggled with how to approach her treatment. I even considered which was the right path: accepting the risk of burdening her body and undergoing more detailed examinations, or prioritizing time at home by only receiving treatment to drain accumulated pleural fluid.

Ultimately, I chose the latter because I saw a reflection of my future self in Gigi, who had begun to dislike going to the vet.

I've lived with an incurable heart condition since birth. Fortunately, my condition is stable, but honestly, the feeling of having a ticking time bomb in my body never goes away.

I want to live and die doing what I want until the very end, avoiding spending time in a hospital bed as much as possible. I want to live a life like fireworks, blooming brilliantly and then gracefully fading away.

Because I've always felt that way, when choosing Gigi's treatment, after much deliberation, I decided to choose options that would allow Gigi to live as she wanted as much as possible, and to spend her final moments as happily as possible.

Honestly, I don't know what Gigi thought of this choice. But remembering her purring by my side as her end approached, and somehow curling up while holding onto my favorite foot, I think she might have accepted this choice.

Just like me, the decisions pet owners make regarding their beloved cats' medical care often reflect not only their views on life and death but also strong convictions. In such choices, filled with so many thoughts, I feel a deep love.

Don't do to others what you don't want done to yourself—this idea is fundamental to human relationships, yet in an era where cyberbullying is a social problem, it's hard to say it's a given ability.

Precisely because of such times, I hope that through interaction with my beloved cat, I can reflect on whether I'm saying things I wouldn't want to hear or words that hurt others, and improve my interactions with other people.

The hypothesis "How you treat animals is how you want to be treated," which I stumbled upon in a book, was an interesting theme that made me reflect on my own way of being. If you're interested, please look back at your interactions with your beloved cat and enjoy some self-analysis.

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