My relationship with cats started in childhood while growing up in Muttrah. Back then, it felt normal for every household to be connected to an animal in one way or another. In my own house, my oldest brother kept dogs, the other took on every possible stray creature — dogs, cats, turtles, rabbits, birds — while I slowly became attached specifically to cats.
At first, I did not think much about it. Feeding cats was simply part of daily life. But over the years, I became more aware of the difficult lives stray animals face in Oman. I especially feel for stray dogs, although I have always been slightly afraid of them. Even now, I occasionally buy dog food and place it near garbage bins where stray dogs gather.
But with cats, I eventually accepted defeat: I am officially a cat lady.
The neighbourhood cats know me very well. They wait outside the gate at predictable hours every day. Most of the time, I feed them dry food, but occasionally I spoil them with tuna or store-bought grilled chicken. Of course, once they taste the better food, they refuse to appreciate the dry food again.
Recently, a mother cat settled outside my bedroom window with her four kittens. Every kitten looks completely different from the others. One is orange, another entirely black, another grey and white, and another a calico. Feeding their nursing mother has become part of my routine.
What caring for stray cats has taught me is that animals need more than food. They want affection and safety. Many of the cats I feed clearly want to become indoor cats. They enjoy being touched and spoken to gently. Still, I try to maintain boundaries. I feed them and help when necessary, but I do not fully adopt them because caring for indoor animals is a major responsibility.
That said, some cats force their way into your life. One of them is Ash, a kitten I found with serious eye problems. I immediately took him to the veterinary clinic near my house, and fortunately, his eyesight was saved. Helping Ash affected me emotionally because he looks very similar to another cat I once failed to save. In many ways, helping him felt like correcting an old regret.
Then there is TebTeb, probably the closest I have come to owning a cat in my adulthood. She was never fully domesticated, but she spent most of her time inside the house and behaved as though she owned me personally. TebTeb disliked sharing attention with the growing number of stray cats in the yard. One day, she simply disappeared. I still hope she will eventually return.
Interestingly, my growing attachment to stray cats also pushed me towards thinking of writing a children’s story based on the stray cats in my neighbourhood. I recently discovered that comedian and writer Ricky Gervais is involved in producing an animated Netflix series about stray cats, which I am looking forward to watching. This has encouraged me further to develop my own story rooted in Oman and the Arab world.
Beyond writing, I also hope to become involved in something more practical. Recently, my Pilates teacher told me about an Omani lady interested in establishing an NGO focused on stray cats. I immediately said, “Sign me in.” My hope is that such efforts will eventually include not only cats but also dogs and other abandoned animals across Oman.
For now, my role remains simple: feeding the neighbourhood cats, worrying about them during the summer heat or when I am on vacation or research leave, and accepting that my house yard no longer really belongs to me alone.
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