One of the first gender-affirming gifts I gave myself, after getting a fancy, short haircut in Beverly Hills, was to buy a mug from GoodWill that said Cat Dad on it.
I became a cat parent in July 2024 when I began fostering my tiny little angel/devils. I had just danced in Pride in San Francisco with the ODC, then drove back to LA to receive them from the foster agency. I would nurse them to health from near starvation and dehydration. They had ring worm and Dior had the potentially fatal FIPS. All of it required yucky medicine that they both hated, but they took it like champs.
Despite the odds they grew into healthy, sassy young adult cats who now run away from me at full speed when it’s time to come in, climb trees 10-plus feet high, and even kill birds. After the first bird was laid still-warm at my doorstep, I went out and bought them collars with bells to make sure they weren’t quite as efficient.
My Cat Dad mug was an aspirational purchase made a month or two after getting them. When I saw it on the shelf, it mirrored an identity that I didn’t quite believe yet. I had not changed my pronouns or begun hormones, and wasn’t sure if I would. And yet having this mug to drink my morning coffee out of was a reminder that there was a part of me that wanted change, whatever that was going to look like. And that gender didn’t have to be so cut and dry. Why couldn’t I be a cat dad right now? And what would that even mean?
Cats have historically been associated with the feminine, paired with witches, and worshiped via goddesses as far back as ancient Egypt. To be catty is to be gossipy and a little mean- like girls at a high school lunch table or Real Housewives. It’s an expression reserved exclusively for women bad-mouthing other women, or to make fun of men when they take on unmanly characteristics. There are crazy cat ladies, but I have never heard of a crazy cat man - although that sounds kind of like the name of an old jazz musician or something, which would be considered cool.
The heartwarming documentary Cat Daddies explores the gender fuckery of men loving cats by telling the stories of a handful of cis, mostly straight men who are obsessed with their kitties. From what I remember, zero bad puns are made about liking pussy. The film’s message is gentle but powerful. Men can be introspective and sensitive enough to appreciate the language of cats while still being men - whatever that means.
Men loving cats has its own history, filled with artsy, somewhat eccentric men of note.
Jack Kerouac writes about his affection for his beloved cat Tyke in Big Sur, who died at his mother’s place while he was traveling. “Ordinarily the death of a cat means little to most men, a lot to fewer men, but to me, and that cat, it was exactly and no lie and sincerely like the death of my little brother -- I loved Tyke with all my heart…”.
Freddie Mercury was another famous cat dad, you might say crazy cat dad, who had a whopping five fur babies when he passed. This is an excellent blog post about the kitty crew with photos of them in the wild at Freddie’s estate, Garden Lodge.
There are many other creative guys who are known for owning and loving cats, my dad included. This love of felines is counter to the kind of alpha masculinity that is taking power in the US, and all over the world, where might makes right. To be a cat dad is to queer masculinity, to be gentle instead of rough and tumble. It’s to understand the nuance and subtle language of cats who seem like sociopaths at times, but who get attached to their owners as much as dogs do, they just make less of a fuss about it.
What would my role be as cat dad, I wondered? Would I ever feel like one? Within that question is a more consequential one: will I ever be a parent to human children? Is it possible as a trans person to live a normal life having transitioned? Is that in the cards for me, or what?
I was writing this essay out in my notes on my phone and as I typed “one” in the question above, my phone autocorrected the word to “inevitable”. Because that’s such a weird choice for autocorrect, having nothing in come with the letters “one,” I will take that as an encouraging sign.
Some photos of the girls as little tinies, one year ago
Dior with green boa
The first week I invited / forced them to pick tarot cards. They basically told me to chill out as a new parent.
Tiny DiDi
The kitty with the tarot cards / I am smitten
"invited/forced" bahahaha