If you had told me a year ago that I’d be living with five cats, I would have laughed—and maybe cried a little. Not because I don’t love cats (clearly, I do), but because, well…five cats. That’s a lot of feline energy under one roof.
But here we are. And if you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to live in a house run by five tiny, opinionated, territorial creatures, let me give you a glimpse into my daily life.
How I Accidentally Became a Five-Cat Household
This was never the plan. However, a tragic—turned triumphant—situation increased our feline headcount.
For those who missed the saga, my long-lost cat, Bubby, went missing for 233 days. I wrote two blog posts during that time—one as a tribute when I thought I’d never see him again and another update when he was spotted but still out of reach.
While Bubby was missing, I set up a feeding station outside, hoping to lure him back. Instead, other neighborhood cats began frequenting the station, including one tuxedo cat who showed up every night in December. He was friendly, adorable, and clearly cold. After a few weeks, I decided to trap him and try to find his owner. No one claimed him, so…welcome home, Felix.
Then, just weeks later, a neighbor one street over finally managed to capture Bubby. Suddenly, I went from three cats to five in what felt like an instant.
What It’s Like to Live with Five Cats
Let’s just say…it’s been an adjustment.
1. There is a strict pecking order.
The cats who have been here the longest do not appreciate the newcomers. It’s a delicate balance of seniority, personal space, and territorial rights. That is until someone hears the Fancy Feast can open—then all hell breaks loose.
2. One upset cat = No one is happy.
If one cat gets into a mood, it spreads like wildfire. A single dispute over a chair or a food bowl can turn the entire house into a war zone. It’s like managing toddlers, except they hold grudges longer and refuse to listen to reason.
3. Felix is the outsider (and he knows it).
Felix, the tuxedo cat, is the nicest of the bunch—polite, gentle, and non-confrontational. But that doesn’t mean he’s been welcomed with open paws.
The other males, especially the alpha male, Frankie, do not like him. The two females? Also unimpressed. Even though Felix does his best to stay out of their way, he remains the outcast.
Oh, and if you’re thinking, maybe they’ll like him better once he is neutered—by the time this blog post is live, he’ll be fixed. Fingers crossed for some improved inter-cat relations.
4. Territory is everything.
Each cat has their own designated spots—cat beds, window perches, favorite chairs. But if one cat dares to occupy another cat’s space, even briefly, that spot is now tainted. If someone lays on someone else’s bed, the rightful owner will refuse to use it until I wash it. They will literally boycott their own bed.
5. They steal my seat within seconds.
If I get up from my desk chair to grab a coffee, a cat will claim it before I get back. Every. Single. Time. I have no seating rights in my own home.
How Social Media Helped Bring Bubby Home
Despite the chaos, there’s one thing I’ll never take for granted: social media played a huge role in bringing our Bubby back.
When he went missing, I didn’t just rely on posters or word of mouth—I leveraged Facebook groups, local community pages, and my own blog to spread the word. Other people kept an eye out, and when someone a street away finally caught him, they recognized him because of a post in a neighborhood group.
When I shared the news that he was home, the response was overwhelming. People who had been following his story for months celebrated right along with me. It was a reminder of the strength of online communities—and proof that social media isn’t just about marketing and business. It’s about connection, support, and sometimes even miracles.
Would I Change a Thing?
Five cats is a lot. It’s chaos. It’s constant fur. It’s more fights than I care to break up. But it’s also love, laughter, and an endless supply of entertainment.
At the end of the day, no matter how many times they steal my chair, squabble over petty places, or refuse to share a bed, I wouldn’t trade them for the world.
Would I have planned for this many cats? No.
But do I regret it? Not for a second.
