Visit a cat cafe

“My first experience dropping by a cat cafe was not what I expected. Instead of a room of cats pouncing on toys, clawing at scratching posts and jumping on furniture, I saw no movement. All of the cats were sleeping. An all-white cat, two grey tabbies and a white cat with black and brown splotches– all conked out. Curled up on chair cushions, on sofas and on fluffy, oval cat beds on the floor.”

“Those who did stay either greeted us personally. Some remained napping, not wanting to say hello (I guess they partied hard the night before). Some expressed a playful behavior. [...] The guardian advised us that the cats that weren’t as socialized to the public not to pet them unless the cats gave us the signal that it was ok. Some made their boundaries known by hissing, meowing, growling and swatting with their paws.”

“The guardian went over the do’s and don’ts of the cat lounge rules as we entered the room. The room had big windows looking out the Wallingford Street, which allows a lot of natural lighting. I tossed my backpack and my iPad and placed my coffee on the table as I said hello to all the cats that met me with curiosity. Only two other people joined the session with us, which gave us more time to spend time with the cats.”