Illustration by Christa Jarrold Save this story Save this story Save this story Save this story When you click a retail link on this page, we may receive a commission. Thank you for supporting The New Yorker. Cats: what would we do without them? To the cat agnostics, not to mention the cat haters, I say: don’t answer that! (Also, what’s wrong with you?) But to the cat lovers, my intended interlocutors here, I say: no need to answer, either. We both know. A catless world is a terrible thing to contemplate. No lap snuggles? No headbutts? No slow blinks? No raising of the rump to welcome a wealth of scritches? No occasional, inexplicable biting? We’d truly be lost without our fuzzy, innocent but knowing friends
A catless world would also be devoid of a whole slew of objects and accoutrements, gadgets and doodads—some meant for cats and some for the humans obsessed with them—that turn a house into a home, or, in some cases, a living room into a giant obstacle course. There are two things I can’t resist: any item that might improve or enrich my two cats’ lives in some way (even if that perceived improvement is a pathetic fallacy that exists purely in my own mind); and any item that captures, for me, the half-sweet, half-tart character of the feline species. If there’s a special cat fanatic in your life (or a special cat!), why not treat them, this holiday season, to one of the bel