Deepa Lakshmin & Dorian Gray
Dorian Gray (@hotcatdorian) can steal anyone’s heart. I brought him home from the ASPCA in August 2021 to foster him for two weeks, which turned into a month, which turned into forever. He was part of their field-to-foster program, where rescued pets are immediately transferred to foster homes so they never have to set paws inside a shelter. The ASPCA gave me all the supplies I needed and even paid for my car home so the subway wouldn’t spook him. Upon arrival, he promptly claimed his side of the bed, and surprising absolutely nobody, I caught feelings for him and “foster failed,” as they say. I signed his adoption papers in October 2021, and just like that, I got my first pet ever. I’ve never been so happy to fail!
I always wanted a cat but thought I couldn’t have one because I’m allergic. I considered getting a dog, but as a single woman living alone who travels frequently, I didn’t feel ready for that commitment. For a while, getting a pet felt out of reach because I didn’t have someone to share the responsibilities with. I researched other types of animals—I’m fascinated by snakes and briefly entertained getting one until I realized I’d have to feed it frozen mice—but nothing felt quite right. I volunteered to foster cats in part to test how bad my allergies really are. Could I tolerate fur on every inch of my studio apartment? With the right magical concoction of meds, yes! I’m also looking into getting allergy shots. The things we do for love!
Dorian’s got a lot of nicknames. My parents call him Dori. I call him everything from sir to bro to broseph to baby to angel baby to buddy to munchkin. I now understand the phrase “curiosity killed the cat.” He climbs every elevated surface and sniffs out every new box, blanket, or scrap of trash. He’ll open drawers, climb inside, and sit behind them when he wants his “me” time. (I’ve learned never to close an open drawer without first checking if he’s in there.) Once when I was late serving dinner, he opened the cabinet where I store his food and dragged the whole bag out. He knows he’s not allowed in my closet—let me have some fur-free clothes, please!—and waits until I’m on a call or otherwise distracted to sneak in. I need him to be, like, 10% dumber.
Fun fact: I’m banned on Hinge because of Dorian. I was writing UX copy for a freelance client a few years ago and signed up for several dating apps to research their onboarding flows. I was seeing someone exclusively at the time and didn’t want to make a real profile for myself, so I used Dorian’s photo for the fun of it. Turns out that’s a great way to set off algorithm alarms! Several apps flagged Dorian’s profile as fake, and Hinge straight-up banned any accounts associated with my phone number. Great story for the plot, not so great for my love life.
I travel a lot and hesitated to adopt Dori at first because of this. Would I ever be able to hop on a last-minute flight ever again? I can confirm the answer’s still yes! I backpacked Australia and New Zealand last year with zero issues. Sometimes my parents watch him, but I’m lucky to live in a city where folks will happily house sit—er, apartment sit—for me. I thoroughly vet and interview potential sitters before every trip, then pick someone qualified to stay at my place and look after my fur baby. They get free accommodation in downtown Manhattan, and I get peace of mind as I explore the world. I miss Dori like crazy whenever I’m away, but I know he’s always in good hands and warms up to new people quickly. If you’ve got treats, you’re instantly his new best friend.
There was one traumatic incident right after I adopted him, however. I came home from spending Thanksgiving in Austin with my family to find Dori’s blood stains all over my apartment—my bed, the floor, his litter, everywhere. I called an emergency vet hysterically crying and stayed up all night with him in the ER worried sick. Nobody knew Dori’s medical history before I took him home at 8 months old, but I found out he’s prone to urinary blockages, which can be deadly within days if untreated. It’s a condition I’ve now learned is common among male cats and exacerbated when they’re dehydrated. (Like his mom, Dori doesn’t drink as much water as he should.) The blood stains were actually his bloody urine—fun!—so I scrubbed my apartment from floor to ceiling at 5am because I knew I’d know no peace until it was all gone. Now Dori’s on a special diet to prevent any flare-ups, and he, fortunately, hasn’t had any symptoms since getting diagnosed and switching to prescription food.
My favorite thing Dorian does is suck on his tail like a baby sucks their thumb. It’s adorable! My second favorite thing he does is burrow under all my bedding, disappearing completely for hours at a time. If I ever can’t find him, I know he’s probably sleeping soundly under the covers. He’ll wake up when he hears dinner, and then after his evening poop, he’ll run zoomies and chase down toy mice like his life depends on it. Then he’ll lose a mouse behind the trash can or under the fridge and meow loudly until I get it out for him. Then it’s time to burrow again before doing the same thing the next day. What a life!
Deepa Lakshmin is a journalist based in New York who’s written for National Geographic, MTV News, Vox and more. She’s currently the director of social media at Lonely Planet.