There are two types of gays in this world: Cat Gays, and Dog Gays. Some people believe in a third category, Plant Gays, but those people are wrong and should be shunned. Now, as a bisexual woman, I get to enjoy both cats and dogs. But since I’m actively involved in the rescuing and re-homing of wild and abandoned cats, my time and finite love is taken up predominantly by — you guessed it — cats.
After you come out, and after you decide whether you are a Cat Gay or a Dog Gay, you are additionally required, as a member of the LGBTQ community, to enjoy and amass expertise in astrology. Myers-Briggs is for straights; astrology is all ours, baby.
Now, Arielle, where is this headed? Where the fuck do these two topics meet? Are you going to pull some nonsense that allows you to mesh these two wildly different things — cats and astrology — or are you just going to waste our time? To these questions, I answer: yes, and yes. This article is about astrology… for… cats. My cats, specifically.
In order to follow along, you’ll need to understand a few things about previously-wild cats. First off, I don’t know their fucking birth time. I wasn’t there for it, and they don’t have little kitty-cat birth certificates. By extension, these birthdays are an estimation — a very good one, but an estimate nonetheless. The one thing we know for sure about these cats — besides the fact that they’re all, objectively, very cute — are their sun signs.
The other interesting thing is that cats are typically only born during a specific season, dubbed Kitten Season. In California, this season can be almost the whole year — the weather is usually warm enough that a cat doesn’t have to worry about finding shelter during the winter, and may instead get their horny on year ‘round. In other states, Kitten Season typically lasts from late March to early October. Which means that if you have an adopted feline, their sun sign is probably something between Aries and Libra. And if we’re being honest, are these not the best signs?
Without further ado, let’s look at some cat signs.
Salem and Berkeley
Salem and Berkeley are from the same litter and therefore share the same sign. They also were found in a dumpster, tied up. They also have wildly different personalities, so I’m really invested in finding out more about their sign.
Here they are looking incredibly guilty, that’s because they were caught mid-heist trying to get my bouquet of tulips that were placed on the very tippy top of the bookshelf. Now I can’t have flowers in the house.
Already, right off the bat, we see the prophetic nature of astrology just shine right through. Salem and Berkeley’s sun sign is Virgo? Well, guess what, they’re forever virgins.
The similarities stop right about there. According to Co-Star, Virgos are hard-working, responsible and self sacrificing. But since Salem and Berkeley are domesticated cats, they have no concept of capitalism, and therefore no concept of hard work.
Berkeley, I suppose is a little more diligent about his surroundings. By that, I mean that one day I put some seashells up on my bookshelf and he knocked them down, and we repeated this cycle for a few weeks.
Salem, however, is a lazy bitch who lives for butt scratches and 2 AM feedings. He knows he’s in fancy dress, so there’s no need to impress after that. When he was a kitten he would climb on top of the TV, seeing it as a combatant for our attention, at that point we were worried about his little kitten safety. Now he’s an adult, and we’re really more worried at the TV’s safety.
I don’t have any friends with a moon in Taurus, and I wasn’t about to pay five dollars for Co-Star to tell me. According to a Google search, Taurus in moon means that you have innate need for security and comfort, and if that’s not my damn cats, I don’t what is.
Taurus is also a fixed sign, meaning patience, persistence and perseverance — see the seashell example up top. Considering that Berkeley and Salem will sit on our chests and meow continuously at 2 AM for the better half of an hour, I would say this is a highly accurate sign for our cats.
It also says Taurus attracts abundance, which would explain how they’re just so needy for love. It also explains why Salem, one by one, pilfered our dental floss picks from the bathroom and hid them in his box. Sheer dental gluttony over here.
Go home, Virgo. Taurus is the sign that reigns supreme with these boys.
Mr. Basil Catsworth
Basil has an air of dignity about him, so we came up with the name Mr. Catsworth. However, I demanded a first name, and I had been watching Fawlty Towers, so Basil became his name. It’s accurate, too, as I spend half my time yelling after him. He is currently five months old.
Fun fact: his two favorite things are raw fish and not being inside a pumpkin.
With a sun in Libra, Co-Star assures me that Basil is ‘fundamentally’ oriented towards fairness and justice. This would explain the LSAT books that this five-pound kitten dragged home from the library, but it doesn’t really explain the fact that he often pushes the other cats out of the way for dry food.
Libras are apparently true to their word; they say something, and it is done. This would explain why Basil only meows when it’s dinner time.
Pisces is similarly inappropriate for Basil, perhaps because he is Baby. The supposed natural empathy of the Pisces didn’t really show when he growled at a much smaller kitten at his last adoption event, and then wouldn’t stop growling, even when we gave him cat-weed.
Pisces are also said to be fundamentally dreamy and insightful. Maybe this will develop as he gets older, but right now, Basil is a practical fellow. He acts with precision, whether that means pouncing on his brother or screaming for food.
Also, after he got fixed, we made him stay in our bedroom in a little mesh playpen so he wouldn’t fuck up his stitches by running around. I shit you not: he screamed the entire night. He screamed so much I heard it in my dreams. He screamed so much that he had a hoarse voice the next morning. This was not an emotional act. This was deliberate and he was MAD.
0/10 for Basil, neither of these signs really come close to him
Purrcival was our first foster and all-around sickly nightmare lovebug. We thought he was doomed to die at several points in his young life, but now he’s on his seventh month and currently lives in Massachusetts.
Cats that were sickly in their young kittenhood, or bottle fed as neonates, tend to be more loving and secure with their human counterparts. They just don’t really get a chance to bond with other cats, or they see you as their sole caretaker. It’s really sweet, the bonds you can form within this kind of relationship — once you stop worrying about possible impending death, at least.
Gemini is an air sign, which makes Percy flighty and incredibly social. He loves jumping on your shoulder and just purring in your ear when he feels ‘neglected.’ Here he is eating some cherry-flavored ice cream in a kitten sized cone.
Geminis are also said to be very entertaining. I swear to god, there has never been a time my partner has talked to his mother without his mother going ‘PERCY!’. He jumps on her shoulder, he jumps on the counter, he jumps on the dog, he jumps on the ficus. HE EATS THE FICUS. If that doesn’t work, he will often have a scream. He does everything but fucking tap dance.
Part of Gemini’s flighty nature is their love of travel. Percy traveled from Los Angeles to Boston and did not poop in his carrier once. He held it until he got to a makeshift litter box in the parking lot of the Logan airport. I mean, I would call that a good traveling nature. For a cat, that’s as loving towards travel as it gets.
In summation, I am legit losing it over how accurate Percy’s sun sign is. Let’s move on to his moon and see if it’s just as good, because I am freaking out.
Sagittarius is a fire sign, and moons specifically tend to have signs of helpfulness and personal freedom. This is not nearly as accurate as the sun sign. For instance, the only time Percy has been remotely helpful is when he ‘helped’ his elderly dog sister lose weight by eating her fucking food. That’s just villainy. No, worse: its elder abuse. Forget Life Alert, that dog needs a Purrcy alert for when he fucking jumps on her back. She’s blind and deaf, you monster.
And Percy, bluntly, is not into personal freedom. He fucking has a baby pouch, because god forbid the poor dog get to walk outside without him.
Anyway, I convinced my partner that astrology was real with this article, so hit me up on instagram (and only instagram, I’ve been banned from twitter for ‘making threats’) @ st.melusine, and I’ll do your cat’s chart for like five bucks or something. I’d do it for free, but I have to feed my fucking screaming foster cats.