Why Cats Need a Cat Tree More Than Toys | Creating a Safe Space for Indoor Cats
I always thought cats needed toys. Later I realized what they truly wanted was actually a place where no one would disturb them.
When my first cat came home, a friend gave me a bunch of things.
Feather teasers, catnip, jingle balls, automatic toys...
I tried everything, but my cat couldn't have cared less.
What was the result?
He wasn't interested in any of them.
Every day, he did only two things: hide under the bed or crawl behind the sofa.
Back then, I was still a bit sensitive and thought, "Does he not like me?"
Later, after living with cats for a while, I realized that cats aren't really avoiding anyone—they're just not yet sure whether this place is safe or not.
What truly changed him wasn't some new toy, nor the expensive cat food I bought.
It was a cat tree.
Does it sound a bit far-fetched?
I thought it was outrageous at the time.
But the fact is, from then on, he gradually began to recover.
It's not about suddenly becoming a social butterfly, but about taking small steps each day.
One day he dared to sit on the second level.
The next day, he dared to sleep on the highest platform.
Later on, when I sat at my computer working, he would lie right on top of it snoring, as if to say, "This room belongs to me."
Only then did I truly understand a sentence.
Cats don't need more space; they need their own space.
If your cat always likes to stand on high places, he's not trying to be difficult.
When I first started keeping cats, there was one thing I couldn't understand.
Why did he always jump onto the high cabinets? The bookshelf. The refrigerator. The kitchen cupboards. Once, he even managed to perch on the door frame, making me question my sanity.
I struggled for ages to bring him down, but he turned his head and climbed back up.
Later, I gave up.
Because I finally realized he wasn't deliberately trying to oppose me.
He just wanted to confirm—
What's going on in this house?
Cats particularly enjoy perching high up, not just because of the better view.
More importantly, he feels in control of the environment.
Have you ever noticed that many cats don't immediately bolt when strangers come over? Instead, they find a high vantage point and sit there, staring down like a head of security. Only after confirming the coast is clear do they slowly make their way down.
Cats tend to hide when they feel insecure.
When they feel a little safer, they like to observe.
Only when they're truly relaxed do they sleep like a puddle of liquid.
These three states, I see almost every day in my own cat.
He says nothing, but he's constantly searching for an "exit."
Once, a few friends came to visit my home.
The conversation became quite loud.
My usually clingy cat vanished in less than five seconds.
Everyone started searching.
Finally, he was found sitting on the top platform of the cat tree.
He didn't make a sound.
His fur wasn't puffed up.
He just quietly watched below.
At that moment, I suddenly felt this scene was strikingly similar to our childhood.
Many unfamiliar relatives came to the house, and I hid at the door of my room, secretly watching them.
It wasn't that I disliked them; I just wanted to observe the environment from a safe distance first.
Cats are exactly the same.
So later on, I increasingly realized that a good cat tree is not just for cats to exercise.
It's more like a shelter.
The cat knows that once he jumps up, no one will keep reaching out to hold him.
No one will suddenly start chasing him to play.
He can decide for himself when to come down.
This "choice" is especially important for cats.
I've always misunderstood the thing about cats scratching the sofa.
To be honest, I've made fun of it before too.
Why did he keep clawing the sofa every single day, even after I bought him a new scratching post? He specifically targeted the genuine leather.
Later I realized that cats scratch things not to destroy the house.
He's telling the space:
This place smells like me.
At the same time, he stretches the body, files the nails, and relieves stress.
Just as some people enjoy running when they're under stress.
Some people enjoy crinkling bubble wrap.
Cats just like to scratch a little.
So later on, I stopped trying to outwit him.
Instead, I placed the scratching post at the spot where he likes to pass through most.
Amazingly, the sofa really took much less damage.
Cats don't deliberately cause trouble.
He simply lives according to his own nature.
The problem is rarely the cat; it lies in the environment.
The biggest mistake I've made was buying a cat tree that looked great but wasn't practical to use.
The photo is really beautiful.
Cream-colored.
Scandinavian style.
The comment section is full of: "It looks amazing."
The result was delivered to my home, and my cat only went up once.
He jumped on once.
The whole tree began to sway from side to side.
He looked down at me.
That look seemed to say:
Are you serious?
After that, he never touched it again.
Later, I replaced it with a much more stable one.
Not so flashy.
He stayed on it every day.
So now, if someone asks me how to choose a cat tree, my first response will definitely not be about the color.
Give it a shake first. If a light touch makes it wobble, your cat definitely won't feel secure. Cats care far more about stability than we do—after all, when they leap onto a platform, they aren't holding onto a railing for balance.
Later I realized that where you place something is more important than what you buy.
At first, I placed the cat tree in the guest room.
I thought it would be quieter there.
The cat simply didn't go at all.
Later, when I was moving and packing up, I casually placed it by the window.
I regretted it the very next day.
Why didn't you put it there earlier?
Every morning, he jumps up at exactly eight o'clock.
He watches birds.
Sunbathes.
Occasionally staring at the passersby below.
Then he switches sides in the afternoon to continue sunbathing.
He can also keep an eye on me while I'm working overtime at night.
Cats actually love watching commotion.
They just don't like standing in the crowd.
They like to stand above the crowd.
This feeling is probably like sitting by the window sipping coffee, watching people come and go on the street.
It's quite comfortable not to participate.
After getting another cat, I finally understand what "vertical space" means.
There was only one cat at home before.
There was never any competition.
Later, another one came.
At first, I was worried they might fight every day.
What truly eased the tension wasn't separating them, but a taller cat tree.
My older cat claims the highest level, the new cat prefers the middle platform, and they take turns snoozing in the lower cubbies.
They hardly ever fight over them.
Later I realized that cats are often fighting not for territory, but for personal space.
Many conflicts disappear on their own as long as both parties maintain a comfortable distance.
People can be like that sometimes.
If everyone in the office has to share one desk, no one's mood would be very good.
This mindset shift explains why modern cat parents are increasingly drawn to functionally designed cat trees like Mewzoom.
When browsing international pet forums, I've noticed the central question has evolved. People are no longer asking, "Which one looks best in my living room?" but rather, "Will my cat actually use this every single day?"
When many people talk about Mewzoom, what they mention most isn't its appearance, but whether the cat will actually use it every day.
I think this is truly what deserves attention.
A cat tree is merely furniture if it's only good-looking in photos.
A cat tree truly serves its purpose only when the cat voluntarily jumps up each day to sleep, observe, scratch, and daydream.
After all, the one judging it is not the owner.
It's the cat.
And cats never give high marks for the sake of appearances.
If it isn't useful, he won't even look at it.
After all these years of raising cats, my greatest feeling can be summed up in just one sentence.
I used to always think about changing my cat.
Later it became clear that what needed to change more was the environment.
A cat won't suddenly feel safe just because we say "don't be afraid."
Nor will he give up his nature just because someone says, "Don't grab the sofa."
But he will gradually relax as he gains a personal space within the home.
He will start stretching.
He will start sleeping on his back with all four limbs in the air.
He will quietly lie beside you while you work.
Even occasionally running over and gently bumping your hand with his head.
After getting a cat, I've come to believe more and more in one saying:
Security is never taught; it's given by the environment.
If a cat tree could make a cat feel every day: "This is my territory, and I don't need to stay constantly on guard."
The value it brings goes far beyond that of just a toy.
It's more like that small corner at home where the light is always on.
No need to speak.
No need to go out of your way to please.
My cat knew that as long as he jumped up, he could rest there peacefully for a while.
And I think this is probably the gift every true cat lover would most want to give their cat.