Effective Cat Parenting beyond the Myths of Independence - Part 1

The squirrel-like curious-eyed creature 

The rain was steady and unforgiving that afternoon in the middle of the monsoons. Behind a municipal dustbin near a yoga institute, a pair of big, round, and quietly curious eyes peeked out from the gloom. I only intended to give him shelter for a few days—maybe just the weekend—so we tucked him into a cardboard box in the shade to keep him dry for the night.

The next morning, the kitten had found his way inside the institute, claiming a safe spot under the shoe rack. For three days, he became a familiar fixture there; visitors would pause mid-shoelace to play or smile at him. Everyone gave him a different name, but I called him Gillu, after the squirrel in a children’s story, because he was tiny, alert, and climbed with quick, nimble energy.

I had fostered many neighbourhood cats before, but I always held back from committing to a full-time resident because of my unpredictable college routine and a fear of getting too emotionally attached. I told myself I’d wait until life felt "stable," yet as I watched Gillu play with my bag beside the shoe rack, that word felt harder to define. Something quietly fell into place; after three days, when no one claimed him, I decided to take him home—not on a whim, but with a deep understanding of the responsibility involved.

Our early days were a learning curve. I quickly discovered that the myth of cats being "low-maintenance" or emotionally distant was untrue. Gillu was talkative and deeply observant, showing affection through slow blinks and quietly following me around. I had to learn that his "bad" behaviours were actually forms of communication. When he scratched the furniture, it wasn't rebellion; it was an unmet instinct that I eventually redirected to accessible scratching posts. When he nipped at my hands during play, I learned to redirect his energy toward wand toys to build mutual respect.

We settled into a "hunt-eat-rest" routine. To help us both wind down, I started a ritual of a solid interactive play session after his last meal, which tired him out and grounded me. It tires him out and acts as a grounding ritual for me too. A win-win. And, of course, sleep. I filled our home with "cat TV"—a window perch where he could watch birds—and plenty of cardboard boxes, which he preferred over expensive toys. I even navigated the difficult decision of sterilisation, a decision I went back and forth on. Realising that it wasn't about control, but about aligning his biology with domestic life to ensure his emotional well-being, I spoke to veterinarians, engaged with other pet parents and did my own research. Sterilisation isn’t about control, it’s about care. Scientifically, it reduces the risk of certain cancers and prevents hormone-driven behaviours that can cause stress or aggression. Hormone-driven behaviours in cats are natural in the wild where cats can act on those instincts freely. But in a domestic setting, especially for indoor cats, these instincts often have nowhere to go. A cat may feel the urge to mate, defend territory, or roam, but is confined to a limited space with no outlet for that drive. This mismatch can lead to chronic stress, frustration, and anxiety. Sterilisation, then, isn’t about suppressing who they are; it’s about preventing a constant cycle of unmet instinct. By reducing hormone-driven urges, we allow cats to settle into their environment without the emotional strain of wanting something they can’t access.

Scratching & Biting is completely natural

There’s a belief that cats scratch or “act out” for no reason. Most behaviors are simply forms of communication - responses to stress, boredom, fear, or unmet needs. Once I stopped expecting my cat to behave like a dog and instead tried to understand feline instincts, our relationship became more respectful and trusting. Cat parenting isn’t easy. It demands intention, observation, and patience. In many ways, it has made me a better human - more aware of boundaries, and more comfortable taking my own space without guilt.

Cats scratch to stretch their bodies, mark territory, and maintain healthy claws. When this behaviour shows up on furniture, it isn’t rebellion, it’s an unmet instinct. That is why providing appropriate scratching posts in accessible, high-use areas can redirect this behaviour effectively and without conflict. At the end of the day, it is important for us to understand that cats are felines at their core. Though domesticated over generations, they still carry instincts rooted in hunting, play, and territorial awareness. These instincts are shared with the larger members of their family, such as lions or cheetahs. Expecting them to behave without these natural drives often leads to misunderstanding. 

Similarly, biting can occur during play, especially if boundaries aren’t clearly set. When Gillu was a kitten, we often played using our hands – a common habit, particularly when kittens don’t have other cats to wrestle with. It’s tempting, especially when it doesn’t hurt at first. But it is important to break this habit early on. Using hands as toys can blur the boundaries and lead to confusion as the cat grows. Redirecting play toward wand toys or interactive games, and allowing cats to disengage on their own terms, helps build trust and mutual respect. Understanding these behaviours taught me that patience and empathy matter more than correction - something that applies to any relationship. When I focused on addressing the cause rather than reacting to the behaviour, my cat became calmer. And, in the process, so did I.