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

The way a person interacts with animals reveals their true nature. For example, I’m the type to express my overflowing love directly, even if my cat is completely put off by it. On the other hand, my husband has a textbook-perfect approach: he only pets the cat when it approaches him, and he has really won its heart.

Why are our ways of interacting with our cat so different? When I wondered about this, I recalled a phrase I saw in a book long ago: "What you do to animals is what you want done to yourself."

When I consciously self-analyzed how I treat my cat with that phrase in mind, I had to agree: "I suppose that might be true..."

Are we showing our cats the affection we want to receive ourselves!?

The type of affection that feels "comfortable" varies from person to person. I’m the type who feels secure with an abundance of affection. I frequently say things to my cat like, "I love you so much," "You're such a good kitty," and "You're so cute."

But if I really think about it, those are the exact things that make me happy and give me a sense of security when someone says them to me.

Could it be that we humans are just telling our cats the words we ourselves would be happy to hear?

Curious, I started an experiment. My husband doesn't say "I love you," but instead expresses care with a strange, complimentary remark he always uses: "You worked hard at being a cat today." I decided to say to him, "You worked hard at being [Husband's Name] today."

At that, my husband laughed and said, "What's that supposed to mean!" but he also looked somehow happy. He patted my head and said, "Thanks for looking out for me."

Seeing his reaction, I remembered, "Oh, that’s right—he’s the type who is always thrilled, almost exaggeratedly so, by even the smallest gesture of care," and I made a discovery.

Perhaps, for my husband, "consideration" is the highest form of affection. It made me realize that because he is always so thoughtful of me and the cat, he feels happy when someone does the same for him—the very thing he values most.

Perhaps the casual things we say to our cats reveal more of our true inner thoughts than we realize.

Is the distance we want from our cats the same as with people?

It feels like our true selves show not only in the words we use, but also in the distance we keep from our cats. I was the type who wanted my cat to be stuck by my side all the time. That tendency also appeared in my romantic relationships; if a partner stayed by my side for a long time, I felt "loved."

On the other hand, my husband is the typical guy who absolutely needs his alone time. He doesn't expect the cat to be stuck by his side, either.

My husband also respects my independence. When I’m engrossed in my hobbies, he is kind enough not to disturb me. Living with him, I’ve learned that love doesn't break just because you aren't glued to each other.

I realized that because I grew up in a household where I would be scolded if I didn't move according to my father's actions, I had mistaken "always being together" for love.

Since that realization, I feel like I've stopped demanding that my cat be by my side all the time. When my inner "loneliness" starts to flare up, I might grab my cat for a cuddle to recharge, but I can feel that we are connected even when we aren't constantly together.

In the past, if I called my cat and it didn't come, or if it was spending time freely in another room, I would feel very lonely. I felt like I was all alone in the world.

But now, rather than feeling lonely, I can embrace that freedom with a smile, thinking, "The little one is enjoying life in their own way."

This shift in thinking has also reflected in my interactions with people other than my cat and my husband; I’ve become able to respect others more, realizing that "everyone has their own circumstances and the right to spend their time freely."

Reflecting on the distance between you and your cat might actually be a great way to re-examine how you nurture your human relationships.

"Not doing" things to your cat is the same as things you wouldn't want done to you

If "what you do to animals is what you want done to yourself" is turned around, it means "what you don't do to animals is what you wouldn't want done to you." What things have I avoided doing to my cat, and how have I faced them?

When I looked back on everything, the first thing that came to mind was how I cared for my late cat, Gigi, at the end of her life.

Gigi passed away due to the recurrence of a rare malignant tumor called a hemangiosarcoma. Before entering palliative care, I struggled with how to approach her treatment. I debated whether it was "correct" to accept the risks of invasive procedures for more detailed examinations, or to prioritize time at home by only getting the fluid drained from her chest.

Ultimately, I chose the latter because I saw my future self in Gigi, who had grown to hate going to the hospital.

I was born with a heart condition that cannot be cured by modern medicine. Thankfully, my condition is stable, but honestly, the feeling of carrying a ticking time bomb in my body has never gone away.

I want to live my life doing what I love until the very end, spending as little time as possible in a hospital bed. I want to live a life like a firework—blooming brightly and disappearing gracefully.

Because I’ve always felt that way, when I had to choose Gigi's treatment, I decided—after much deliberation—to make choices that would allow her to live as she wanted and spend her final days as happily as possible.

Honestly, I don't know how Gigi felt about that choice. But when I recall how she would purr by my side in her final days, holding onto my foot—something she loved—I like to think that she was at peace with my decision.

Like my own experience, the medical decisions an owner makes for their pet often reflect not just their view on life and death, but their deepest convictions. I feel profound love in those choices—choices that are so full of heart.

Do not do unto others what you would not have them do unto you. While this is the foundation of human relationships, it's hard to say that it’s an innate ability in an age where online defamation has become a social issue.

Precisely because we live in such an era, I hope we can use our interactions with our cats to consider if we are saying things to others that we wouldn't want to hear ourselves, and perhaps change how we treat the people around us for the better.

The hypothesis that "what you do to animals is what you want done to yourself," which I found in a book I picked up by chance, was an interesting theme that made me think about my own way of being. If you're interested, try looking back on your words and actions toward your cat and enjoy some self-analysis.

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