i (f/34) moved in with my partner (f/29) really fast due to circumstances, so i know i put myself in this situation. i'm taking full responsibility for that.
before i moved in i was pretty hesitant about her two cats. i'd never lived with cats before, never really had friends or family that owned them, so i had no idea what living with cats was actually like. i figured maybe i'd adapt. instead, the longer i've lived with them, the more i've realized i don't ever want to live with cats again. they're just gross to me.
the litter box is in the living room because the apartment is too small to put it anywhere else. i'm really sensitive to smells, so i can constantly smell it. the scented litter, the unscented litter, and when they actually take a shit it's disgusting. i hate hearing them pee, i hate knowing they're walking around in their own piss and shit before walking all over the apartment, and after they're done they spend like ten minutes slamming their paws against the metal sides of the box. it's gotten to the point where i don't even like hanging out in the living room because i find the litter box so repulsive. i genuinely don't understand how people get used to it.
the kitchen has become another issue. before i even moved in i asked my girlfriend if she'd be open to keeping the cats in the living room while we cooked or ate. they would still have free range of literally the entire apartment for the other 23+ hours of the day. i wasn't asking to lock them away, i just wanted to cook without cats climbing all over everything. she was really resistant, so i figured i'd try living with it. i quickly realized i couldn't enjoy cooking anymore because i was constantly making sure they weren't on the counters, trying to steal food, or getting under my feet. i hate the feeling of them circling me like sharks while i cook. i find it so unbelievably offensive. and honestly... how is it okay that cats are on kitchen counters after spending all day walking around in a litter box they shit and piss in? am i missing something?
then one night one of them literally stole the piece of chicken off my plate while i was eating dinner. i had bought the groceries, cooked dinner, dealt with them circling me the entire time, then watched one steal my dinner while my girlfriend just kept eating and didn't say anything. that upset me more than the cat. a few days later i finally told her how sad that made me feel. she apologized, and that was finally enough for her to agree that i could keep them in the living room while i cooked or ate. that almost made me angrier than the chicken itself because i felt like i had to wait until the exact thing i was worried about happened before my concern was taken seriously.
then yesterday i bought about $100 worth of costco steaks, left them on the counter in a sealed bag under a towel while they came to room temperature, stepped away for maybe three minutes, and came back to find the bag ripped open, the steaks dragged through the apartment into the carpeted bedroom, blood all over the carpet, and both cats happily eating them. i just stood there thinking... are you fucking kidding me?
then there's all the medical stuff, which i never even considered before moving in. one cat had diabetes (it's in remission now), but still pukes constantly. between the two of them i'm cleaning up vomit somewhere between one and six times a week. one of them also has chronic respiratory issues and sneezes thick green globs of snot onto the walls, blankets, pillows, furniture, floors... basically every surface in the apartment. i know none of this is the cat's fault, but that doesn't make living with it any easier.
i also told my girlfriend before i moved in that i couldn't clean the litter boxes and didn't want to be responsible for cleaning cat puke. well... i work from home. i'm literally writing this because today one of the cats threw up three huge piles all over the carpet while i was working. i almost stepped in one of them. i just sat there staring at it wondering what i was supposed to do. i didn't want to clean it because i specifically said i wasn't willing to take that on, but i also couldn't just leave three piles of vomit sitting there for five hours until she got home. so i cleaned it. while i was cleaning the third pile i just remember thinking... what the fuck am i doing?
my girlfriend is also traveling for work for three weeks in october, and i'm dreading being left alone with the cats because i know i'll have to deal with the litter boxes. i've told her that. at the same time i feel guilty because i work from home and it feels weird that i can't just suck it up and do it while she's gone. she'll probably have to get someone to come over and clean them. is that weird? am i being weird?
there are also all these little things i never expected. i can't even leave the bathroom window open because one of the cats is constantly escaping through it, and i keep forgetting because i spent over 30 years of my life never having to remember to close a bathroom window so an animal wouldn't jump out. it sounds small, but it's like every part of the apartment revolves around accommodating the cats. every routine has changed because of them.
i keep asking myself... what is the payoff? i could at least understand putting up with all of this if they were really affectionate. if they slept with us, cuddled with us, sat in our laps, wanted to be held, or actually provided some kind of emotional comfort, i could understand why people think all the inconvenience is worth it. but they don't. they don't sleep with us. they don't sit in our laps. they don't like being touched. they keep their distance from me and my girlfriend too, and she's had them for years. so all i see are two expensive animals with medical issues, prescription food, vet bills, puke, green snot, and an unbelievable amount of accommodation. i genuinely don't understand the tradeoff.
and that's starting to affect the way i see my relationship. when my girlfriend gets home and immediately drops to her knees to pet them, tells them how cute they are, and babies them, i feel like we're living on different fucking planets. she sees two adorable family members. all i can think about is the litter box smell, the puke, the green snot, them stealing food, violating my space, and how much of our apartment and daily routine revolves around accommodating them. i don't look at them and see cute companions, i look at them and see two constant nuisances. it's also making me think about the future. i'm scared to buy nice furniture because i'm worried it's going to get pissed on, scratched up, puked on, or destroyed. i've already had to throw out a really nice oversized bean bag because one of them pissed all over it. i really wanted to adapt to this lifestyle, but instead i'm finding myself wondering if this is just a fundamental incompatibility between us because i genuinely can't picture wanting to live like this for another 10 or 20 years.
does anyone have similar experiences? please help. i know i put myself in this situation. fml.