Cats and boyfriends!
1. Dear Prudence,
I live in an apartment with a roommate, Sara, and my cat, Ravioli. We’ve all lived together for two and a half years without any issues. But Sara’s boyfriend of six months, Tom, is being a jerk to my cat, and I’m sick of it.
Tom dislikes cats (which is fine) but he’s extremely vocal about it, which gets tiresome for me. Tom sees some hair on the couch? “F***in’ cat.” Hears Ravioli meow as I open his wet food? “Oh my God, shut up.” Sees him walk toward his (frequently cleaned) litter box? “Ugh, disgusting.” He doesn’t have allergies, and it’s not a cleanliness thing because he likes dogs fine. It’s incredibly annoying. I occasionally respond with something like “Yes, Tom, the cat that lives here is being a cat, just like always,” but he takes that as an invitation to complain more.
Ravioli is sweet and friendly and likes to be around people. He likes to sit in laps, but if you tell him “down” (I clicker trained him!) or nudge him off you or have someone else call him over, he’ll leave right away. But Tom objects to having the cat near him at all in common areas—he wants to make him go away when he’s just curled up on the other side of the couch, or on a kitchen chair, or next to the TV. When I’m around, I say to leave him alone because he’s not bothering anyone. But I assume when I’m out, Tom is ousting him from his favorite lounge spots for no reason.
Last week, Tom pushed Ravioli out of a spot on the couch that he wanted, but Rav returned when he went to the kitchen. Instead of just moving him again, Tom splashed him with water from his glass. I said, “What the hell is wrong with you? Don’t ever do that again!” and Tom was defensive. Sara backed me up about it not being OK. But when I talked to her later and expressed my frustration with how Tom acts toward my cat in general, she said the comments and making him move weren’t a big deal because they don’t bother Ravioli. They’ve only hung out at his place instead of ours since it happened, which I appreciate, but Sara has mentioned him starting to come over again. I feel like I’m going to flip out on him if he so much as speaks to my cat again let alone touches him.
Keeping Rav in my room while Tom’s over seems unfair, because he’s over quite a bit. Why should he have to be cooped up because someone who doesn’t pay rent doesn’t want to look at him? I’d also have to move his food and the litter box into my bedroom. How do I proceed? The lease is up in September and I’ll move if I need to, but I’d rather not, and I still need ideas for how to handle things until then.
—Ravioli’s Human
Dear Ravioli’s Human,
You cannot go back to a situation where Tom is coming over all the time and splashing your cat with water. It’s too upsetting. I can feel the tension through your letter. When you’re on the verge of flipping out at someone in your own home, something has to change.
Luckily, something has. I would actually take it as a good sign that Tom and Sara have been hanging out at his place for now. That shows that they are willing to adjust. You say it’s not fair to keep Ravioli in your room because Tom’s over quite a bit, but what about keeping him in your room one or two nights a week? See if Sara can compromise about how often Tom will come over going forward, and let her know you’ll do your part by keeping Ravioli out of the way. Get a second litter box just for your bedroom. This one looks pretty stylish, and might feel nicer to have in your sleeping space. Get a litter genie too so you can clean up immediately after Ravioli. Food and water can be moved, especially if you get a set-up that holds both at once.
Should you have to do this? No, it’s your home and your cat and this man is being a jerk. Is creating some space from Tom, who you can’t really ban from the apartment, what’s best for both you and Ravioli right now? I think so.
I am optimistic that if all parties establish that they are willing to shift a little bit here, the temperature of the situation might come down. Perhaps after a few weeks, you could even have a direct conversation with Tom, air some of your feelings, and broker a friendlier relationship between him and Rav.
If a set-up involving these compromises really doesn’t work—either in theory, or in practice—yeah, you might have to move. Living with other people, and the people they insist on dating, can be really tough.
Link
**********
2. My boyfriend and I were talking about protecting human life, and he said that he doesn’t believe that human life is necessarily worth more than any other kind of life. For example, he said that if one of our cats were drowning next to a human who was a stranger to us (who was also drowning) and he could save just one, he would choose our cat. Is this morally wrong?
— Name Withheld
For many people, pets are fictive kin; they’re considered part of the family. In one study I’ve seen, hundreds of people were asked to consider how they’d respond if their pet ran in front of a bus at the same time that a foreign tourist stepped in front of it. They can only save one; the other will be killed. Which would they rescue? What the experimental psychologist Richard Topolski and colleagues found was that about 40 percent of respondents said they’d save their pet. If the choice were between their pet and a hometown stranger? The numbers dropped by just a few percentage points. A distant cousin? Almost a quarter of respondents still put their pet first. Not just any pet, mind you — they were choosing their pet.
These aren’t people with some grave defect of character. They have a duty of care toward their animal companion; the creature depends on them and, over time, they’ve developed a strong bond: a sense of affection, companionship, loyalty, all twined around a whole lot of memories. So the choice of plumping for your pet is, you could say, very human.
But yes, it’s very wrong. (In states with “duty to rescue” laws, it could be illegal too.) Those human strangers? They had rich emotional lives and they had plans, short-term and long-term, big and small; it’s a good guess that they were also part of other people’s plans, other people’s emotional lives. They had friends, co-workers, kin, dependents — maybe some assortment of parents, children, siblings, cousins — and possibly a spouse or life companion. You can expect the suffering that their death will bring to be deep, the ripple effects wide.
We shouldn’t assume that how people respond on questionnaires will necessarily predict how they’ll respond in real life, of course. Still, to see the full, reciprocal and socially enmeshed humanity of an abstract stranger can take work. I’m saying that your boyfriend is wrong; I’m not saying that he’s rotten. The more pressing question for you is this: If he had to choose between you and one of those cats, would he have to think it over?
Link, sorta - the letter came in my email but I don't think it's up on the site yet
I live in an apartment with a roommate, Sara, and my cat, Ravioli. We’ve all lived together for two and a half years without any issues. But Sara’s boyfriend of six months, Tom, is being a jerk to my cat, and I’m sick of it.
Tom dislikes cats (which is fine) but he’s extremely vocal about it, which gets tiresome for me. Tom sees some hair on the couch? “F***in’ cat.” Hears Ravioli meow as I open his wet food? “Oh my God, shut up.” Sees him walk toward his (frequently cleaned) litter box? “Ugh, disgusting.” He doesn’t have allergies, and it’s not a cleanliness thing because he likes dogs fine. It’s incredibly annoying. I occasionally respond with something like “Yes, Tom, the cat that lives here is being a cat, just like always,” but he takes that as an invitation to complain more.
Ravioli is sweet and friendly and likes to be around people. He likes to sit in laps, but if you tell him “down” (I clicker trained him!) or nudge him off you or have someone else call him over, he’ll leave right away. But Tom objects to having the cat near him at all in common areas—he wants to make him go away when he’s just curled up on the other side of the couch, or on a kitchen chair, or next to the TV. When I’m around, I say to leave him alone because he’s not bothering anyone. But I assume when I’m out, Tom is ousting him from his favorite lounge spots for no reason.
Last week, Tom pushed Ravioli out of a spot on the couch that he wanted, but Rav returned when he went to the kitchen. Instead of just moving him again, Tom splashed him with water from his glass. I said, “What the hell is wrong with you? Don’t ever do that again!” and Tom was defensive. Sara backed me up about it not being OK. But when I talked to her later and expressed my frustration with how Tom acts toward my cat in general, she said the comments and making him move weren’t a big deal because they don’t bother Ravioli. They’ve only hung out at his place instead of ours since it happened, which I appreciate, but Sara has mentioned him starting to come over again. I feel like I’m going to flip out on him if he so much as speaks to my cat again let alone touches him.
Keeping Rav in my room while Tom’s over seems unfair, because he’s over quite a bit. Why should he have to be cooped up because someone who doesn’t pay rent doesn’t want to look at him? I’d also have to move his food and the litter box into my bedroom. How do I proceed? The lease is up in September and I’ll move if I need to, but I’d rather not, and I still need ideas for how to handle things until then.
—Ravioli’s Human
Dear Ravioli’s Human,
You cannot go back to a situation where Tom is coming over all the time and splashing your cat with water. It’s too upsetting. I can feel the tension through your letter. When you’re on the verge of flipping out at someone in your own home, something has to change.
Luckily, something has. I would actually take it as a good sign that Tom and Sara have been hanging out at his place for now. That shows that they are willing to adjust. You say it’s not fair to keep Ravioli in your room because Tom’s over quite a bit, but what about keeping him in your room one or two nights a week? See if Sara can compromise about how often Tom will come over going forward, and let her know you’ll do your part by keeping Ravioli out of the way. Get a second litter box just for your bedroom. This one looks pretty stylish, and might feel nicer to have in your sleeping space. Get a litter genie too so you can clean up immediately after Ravioli. Food and water can be moved, especially if you get a set-up that holds both at once.
Should you have to do this? No, it’s your home and your cat and this man is being a jerk. Is creating some space from Tom, who you can’t really ban from the apartment, what’s best for both you and Ravioli right now? I think so.
I am optimistic that if all parties establish that they are willing to shift a little bit here, the temperature of the situation might come down. Perhaps after a few weeks, you could even have a direct conversation with Tom, air some of your feelings, and broker a friendlier relationship between him and Rav.
If a set-up involving these compromises really doesn’t work—either in theory, or in practice—yeah, you might have to move. Living with other people, and the people they insist on dating, can be really tough.
Link
2. My boyfriend and I were talking about protecting human life, and he said that he doesn’t believe that human life is necessarily worth more than any other kind of life. For example, he said that if one of our cats were drowning next to a human who was a stranger to us (who was also drowning) and he could save just one, he would choose our cat. Is this morally wrong?
— Name Withheld
For many people, pets are fictive kin; they’re considered part of the family. In one study I’ve seen, hundreds of people were asked to consider how they’d respond if their pet ran in front of a bus at the same time that a foreign tourist stepped in front of it. They can only save one; the other will be killed. Which would they rescue? What the experimental psychologist Richard Topolski and colleagues found was that about 40 percent of respondents said they’d save their pet. If the choice were between their pet and a hometown stranger? The numbers dropped by just a few percentage points. A distant cousin? Almost a quarter of respondents still put their pet first. Not just any pet, mind you — they were choosing their pet.
These aren’t people with some grave defect of character. They have a duty of care toward their animal companion; the creature depends on them and, over time, they’ve developed a strong bond: a sense of affection, companionship, loyalty, all twined around a whole lot of memories. So the choice of plumping for your pet is, you could say, very human.
But yes, it’s very wrong. (In states with “duty to rescue” laws, it could be illegal too.) Those human strangers? They had rich emotional lives and they had plans, short-term and long-term, big and small; it’s a good guess that they were also part of other people’s plans, other people’s emotional lives. They had friends, co-workers, kin, dependents — maybe some assortment of parents, children, siblings, cousins — and possibly a spouse or life companion. You can expect the suffering that their death will bring to be deep, the ripple effects wide.
We shouldn’t assume that how people respond on questionnaires will necessarily predict how they’ll respond in real life, of course. Still, to see the full, reciprocal and socially enmeshed humanity of an abstract stranger can take work. I’m saying that your boyfriend is wrong; I’m not saying that he’s rotten. The more pressing question for you is this: If he had to choose between you and one of those cats, would he have to think it over?
Link, sorta - the letter came in my email but I don't think it's up on the site yet

no subject
Is Tom a total asshole? Yes!
Is he totally lacking manners? Also yes!
Should Sara reconsider this relationship? God yes.
Should LW reconsider this living situation? If it doesn't improve!
But there's a long line between "being an asshole" and "being one step away from domestic violence at all times". Lots of people are nice to cats who beat their partners and kids like pinatas.
With that said, Sara needs a new boyfriend. Anybody who treats another person like that in their own home - and whether you think by "person" I mean the cat or the LW it doesn't matter - is not somebody you want to spend more time with. He can't be so great in bed or at bowling or whatever it is they even do together.
As for the second letter, LW needs to break up with this dude for an entirely different reason. I mean, in my family we've joked about how, in case of a fire, we'd probably carry out the pets and let the humans fend for themselves... but that's because the pets are easier to carry than the people are, not because we're serious!
So this person is either making a very strange moral calculus, or he likes to say outre things to rile people up, and honestly, neither of those is a good look.
no subject
I'm glad LW #1's roommate backed her up when Todd splashed Ravioli with water. Personally, once I got past the NRE stage, I'd be taking uncomfortable notice of how Todd treats someone with less power than he has (yes, the household cat counts as someone). They always say to pay attention to how your date treats the waitstaff....
As for #2 ., ugh, hypotheticals.
no subject
no subject
I don't think multiple levels of calculation have to be involved. This idea isn't that strange if it's been scientifically demonstrated in 40% of people; it's possible that he's just being honest about what he feels. If he were bringing it up in public and to various groups of people, his motivation would be highly suspect and I would agree that he probably was getting off on being shocking, but if he's just talking to his partner, that isn't necessarily so.
no subject
Wanting to save your real-life pets over an imaginary stranger in a strictly-hypothetical discussion is not that unusual.
no subject
It's not only stressful to poor Ravioli to have to put up with this crappy human, but *LW* is now constantly on-edge about wondering what the next thing will be to happen to their cat.
Tom escalated the behavior, and while being splashed with water is, in the scheme of things, not extremely harmful (that kind of thing CAN make cats skittish and unhappy, though.) But it's an escalation of the vehement, constant, out-loud cat hate, and I would not feel safe with my cats being in the house alone with Tom, given how he might behave when no one is looking.
no subject
If he did come out with it himself out of nowhere, that still doesn't necessarily mean that he wasn't prompted by something he heard or saw previously.
I don't say that this conversation CAN'T be a bad sign, and it WOULD be in character for one of those argumentative contrarians looking to declare how dumb morality is in general: definitely you should run the other way in that case. I just think that it isn't necessarily that, without more context.
no subject
Anyone that was aggressive against any animal, not just my own, wouldn’t be welcome in my home. If I was forced to put up with their presence for some reason, I would be there every minute to intervene, and at the first sign of anything (including verbal harassment) they’d have to leave.
no subject
Holy Ravioli: By my count, Ravioli is the second guardian-angel cat to appear in this column. That is, if Sara will let him be.
Anyone who watches too much TV knows animal cruelty turns up early in serial-killer stories, foreshadowing an excess of hostility and deficit in empathy.
But when the cruelty is on the way-less-extreme part of the scale — dousing a cat, say — I don’t think the connection comes as readily to mind.
I agree with you completely that disliking cats and cat hair and litter boxes is fine, all of it. (I’m no fan myself.) But look at what hero Ravioli exposed: how Tom acts on his dislike. Contempt, whining, utter disregard for his girlfriend’s home as more Ravioli’s than his. Disrespect for your supremacy in your own space. And, especially, the water throwing, an escalation on the animal-abuse and violence scale.
That may have been “harmless” in an injury sense, yes — but how can Sara not see in Tom’s reaction an openness to lashing out physically in anger? At a relatively defenseless creature that was doing him zero harm?
I’m not suggesting Tom is a serial killer in training. But people can do a lot of damage with behaviors well below the threshold of a Netflix limited series. They can bring a cat-ton of misery to their partners and others, at least till they grow up or get help. It’s playing out on a loop right under your noses, that Tom is heavy on hostility and light on empathy.
Anyone who thinks these concerns will go away when the cat does hasn’t paid meaningful attention to current events in a very long time. How does Sara think Tom will behave toward her when one of her quirks starts to annoy him? (Because every couple generates annoyances eventually, if they don’t break up first.)
I realize I haven’t even started to address the roommate and lease issue. But all that background is why you tell Sara you’re not comfortable leaving Tom alone with the cat, and ready to discuss what that means from now till September, because it won’t wait.
And it’s why I think, even if Sara is more roommate than friend, it’s still a kindness to engage her on the larger 911. Maybe:
“Does Tom act out in traffic, too? Or when someone screws up his order?”
“Taking his frustration out on a defenseless pet — that doesn’t alarm you? It’s concerning to me.”
“Reactivity, ‘punching down,’ defensiveness, utter disregard for others’ home — please be careful with this one.”
Or a more measured, “It’s your life, your boyfriend, but it’s my cat and my former refuge, and my alarms are screaming.”
I spin out a lot of column yardage on not crossing lines into other people’s business. But when someone else crosses a line, as Tom keeps doing so egregiously, it’s time to butt in.
https://www.washingtonpost.com/advice/2024/04/21/carolyn-hax-roommate-boyfriend-cat-jerk/