Small Solid Wood Cat Tree That Cats Actually Love
You really don't need to buy the biggest cat tree—my "drama queen" has already paid the price for me.
I admit, I once did something really stupid.
Less than two months after getting a cat, I impulsively ordered a huge cat tree.
I was especially excited when placing the order.
My mind has already begun to picture the scene.
The cat leaps across the eaves above, I sit on the sofa sipping coffee—life is peaceful and serene.
What was the actual result?
My cat circled the cat tree, sniffed it, and tapped it with one paw.
Then...
Turned around and crawled into the delivery box.
That's right.
Shipping box.
The cardboard box that held the cat tree was more popular than the cat tree itself.
I stood there silently for around ten seconds, then suddenly felt like a fool.
Later I finally realized it wasn't the cat being picky—it was me who didn't understand it.
Many people, including me back then, used to think cats loved elaborate cat trees—the more platforms, the taller, the fancier, the better.
It would be best to hang three toy balls and add a hammock as well.
Now that I think about it, this is purely human thinking.
Cats never stand there calculating configurations.
It only thinks:
Is this comfortable?
Comfortable, I'll sleep.
Uncomfortable, no matter how luxurious, goodbye.
After moving, the living room became a bit smaller, so I started seriously researching small cat trees.
I just wanted to save space.
It turned out to be the most satisfying decision I've made since I started keeping cats.
My cat has a particularly strange habit.
It particularly likes to stare at me while I'm working.
Really.
It was right beside me as I drew the design.
I edit the image, and it looks.
I drink coffee, and it watches.
Sometimes I wonder if it's watching me to see whether I'm working diligently.
The tall cat tree used to be placed on the other side of the living room.
It hardly goes up.
Later, I replaced it with a smaller one and placed it directly next to the workbench.
Something magical happened.
It stays there every day.
Wake up and look at me.
Stretching lazily.
Grab the rope twice.
Keep sleeping.
I only realized it later.
It's not that it likes cat trees.
It just wants to be closer to me.
Cats can sometimes be quite like humans.
They need their own space, yet don't want to be too far from the person they love.
A jewelry designer always looks at details first, no matter what they see.
This is an occupational disease.
Can't change it.
Others buy furniture by first looking at the price.
I'll touch the wood first.
Others see color.
I look at the edges.
I once bought a very cheap cat tree.
As soon as I opened the package, I smelled a strong odor.
At that moment, there was only one thought in my mind.
If I were a cat, I wouldn't want to lie on it every day either.
Later, I began to favor natural wood.
Not for the sake of sophistication.
But because it feels reassuring to the touch.
Steady.
Solid.
It won't creak or make noise everywhere even after a long time.
I recently saw a two-tier solid wood cat house from Mewzoom and actually stopped to take a closer look.
What attracts me most is not the appearance.
Rather, it didn't desperately pile on features.
Nowadays, many products tend to be overly complicated, as if the more features they have, the more valuable they are.
You only realize it when you actually use it.
Cats actually use only a few places repeatedly every day.
Sleep.
Claw.
Daydreaming.
Enough.
There's one thing that cat owners will definitely laugh about.
Have you noticed.
Cats never sleep in the spot you carefully prepare for them.
You bought it a cat bed.
It sleeps on your sweater.
You bought a new blanket.
It lies in the delivery box.
So now I've learned not to argue with cats anymore.
I'm only responsible for making the environment comfortable.
Let the rest decide for itself.
Surprisingly, once that small cat tree truly suited its habits, it ended up staying there every day.
No training.
No snacks.
No guidance.
It passed on its own.
Cats don't say thank you.
But actions never lie.
I'm increasingly convinced of one thing.
Comfort matters more than being flashy.
This sentence suits jewelry.
It's also suitable for cat furniture.
Every day when I come home and see that guy curled up in his little corner, sleeping on his back with all four paws in the air, I realize once again that not pursuing those tall, elaborate cat trees was actually a pretty good decision.
After all, it's happy.
My home finally doesn't have to feel like a pet playground anymore.
Sometimes, good things really don't need to be complicated.
A sturdy small cat tree, a soft cushion, a durable sisal rope for scratching, and a ray of afternoon sunlight streaming in.
This is probably what my master envisions as a five-star lifestyle.
And me?
Finally, I don't have to take it off the computer keyboard every day anymore.
Just this alone is worth the price.