Cat-astrophic Fun: My Adventure in Meowtropolis

My obsession with cats started about a year ago. The problem was, I couldn’t get a cat. The idea of having to remember to feed it was too much of a commitment—especially considering I sometimes forget to eat myself! After living in Dubai for a year, I realised cats are everywhere. Street cats, alley cats, "Hey, look, another cat!" cats. They’re like your unofficial pets—you learn to love them, you feed them (which apparently we have been informed by building security it is illegal), and sometimes, they’ll even look at you like they’re mildly interested in your existence. But, being street cats, they’re either terrified of you or only care if you’re holding food. So, naturally, we decided to take things to the next level and head to Meowtropolis Cat Café.

At around 9 pm on a weekend, like many people our age, we decided to go see cats instead of hitting the club. (Spoiler alert: we were the only ones there.) I could see the cats lounging by the window, and my heart skipped a beat just looking at their cuteness. I jumped out of my seat with excitement, knowing that in about five minutes, I’d be getting to hang out with those sweet little animals. We walked in, paid the entry fee, and were promptly instructed not to hold the cats or disturb a certain couple who were sleeping... "Mum?", I thought. I also had to cover my shoes with some special material they gave us—strictly for the safety of the cats, of course. Meanwhile, one of the most adorable orange cats watched us intently through the door with its big, beautiful eyes, practically begging for a pet. He was literally Puss from 'Puss in Boots'. I turned to the staff member and asked, "Has anyone ever... you know, attempted to kidnap the cats before?" He laughed and asked me why I was asking. My simple reply was, "Well, today might be the first time." They finally let us in, and my excitement went through the roof.

As soon as I walked in, I spotted two stunning, chubby grey cats lounging on a cat play structure. Their eyes were half-squinted, but still open—looking effortlessly cool, as only cats can. They were the most well-behaved cats I’d ever seen. Around five or six others were napping peacefully, but one cat, named Theo, immediately caught my attention. He wasn’t too fond of me, but he was so attached to this little ball. Every time I’d try to get closer, he’d scoot away, clearly thinking, "You can come for pets... but only if you respect the ball." I made a silent vow: I would get that cat to like me before I left.

We spent the next while going around, petting the other cats, completely overwhelmed by how adorable they were. Their eyes were glowing in big, beautiful circles, their chubby cheeks were irresistible, and their fur was impossibly soft. Some were extra fluffy, while others had a more timid vibe. The shy ones were even slower, so even if they wanted to get away from me, they couldn’t—making them even cuter. All the cats were mostly just trying to stay safe, probably not used to a bearded grown man smiling aimlessly at them, but hey, it was a learning curve. After about twenty minutes, the worker came in and explained that, in order to win their hearts, you need to be excited and playful. You’ve got to take their attention away from their boring, sleepy vibes and give them something to focus on. He jumped up, sat on the ground, grabbed an object, and tapped it on the floor. Suddenly, six cats—two of which were actually 'sleeping'—ran up to him. That was the moment I realised I might have been a bit too calm with them.

At this point, Theo’s obsession with his little ball returned. For the next twenty minutes, we played fetch—switching the ball from one hand to the other to keep his attention, then tossing it for him to chase down and grab. A second cat joined in on the fun, adding to the chaos. Meanwhile, the others remained a bit more shy. One of them even fell asleep on their little beach chair, looking like the embodiment of pure relaxation. The rest of the cats roamed the room, occasionally popping in and out through a hole in the wall that we weren’t allowed to go through, probably to grab a snack.

One cat spent a lot of time staring out the window. The carer informed us that he was a little "slow with autistic traits" and spent most of his time watching people go by. Naturally, I spent the rest of our visit talking to him like a baby, saying things like, "You're not slow," in my most affectionate voice. My cousin laughed and, at one point, said, "That's why you like that one—because it's a lot like you." I didn’t deny it. Honestly, I felt a little bad for the poor cat, but I couldn’t help it. I just wish I could pronounce his name. After a little more fetch with Theo, we said our goodbyes to all the felines, promising to return, as if they understood. In reality, they gave me that classic "You're great, but we really want to sleep now. Please go" look. Except for Theo—he had so much energy, it felt like he’d been sipping Red Bull from his water bowl.

I think I’d just found my new favourite place to be.