Confessions of a ‘cat daddy’ – and why it’s such a turn-off

As a study finds that felines can ruin a man’s love life, Daniel Murray explains why he wouldn’t give his up

What is it about my twin ragamuffin cats that proves such a turn-off for the opposite sex? That’s what I wondered yesterday, as I read the curious results of a study from Boise State University, in Idaho, where researchers presented around 1,400 women with photographs of two men in their early 20s – one stroking a cat, the other not.

The women were then asked how they would feel about the prospect of a casual date or long-term relationship with each of the men. The chaps shown with cats were far less likely to arouse romantic interest because they were seen as “less masculine, more neurotic, and less datable”, the academics said.

Those results came as a surprise to lead researcher Shelly Volsche, who had assumed the cats would make the men look “trustworthy, gentle and caring”. But I was less shocked. When I adopted Bells and Archie in my mid-20s, I was warned that my new feline friends could have a ruinous effect on my love life. Cat-owners are perceived as introverts who prefer to spend time alone, I was told, whereas dog-owners are seen as sociable and outdoorsy. (As it happens – I’m an outgoing extrovert who’s loved cats since childhood, so I don’t fit this dichotomy.) And for some reason I do not understand, cats are associated with femininity whereas dogs are seen as masculine – and so it’s easy to understand why, even in these enlightened times, many straight men believe they need to avoid cats like the plague if they are to find a partner.

But I didn’t care. I spent a lot of time in my late 20s on dating apps like Tinder and Happn, and I always made sure to use at least one photograph of Bells and Archie on my profile. Adopting my cats is the best decision I’ve ever made. My work managing my start-up (Heights, a brain health and mental well-being service) means many long, stressful hours spent alone. Happy to leap onto my lap for a cuddle whenever I call their names, Bells and Archie have proved the perfect company, doing wonders for my own mental health. It’s even been suggested that a cat’s purr has evolved perfectly to soothe our stress, and is now the most comforting sound known to humans

– something I can totally believe.

My cats had become part of my identity, and I wasn’t in any mood to keep them a secret. If you hate Bells and Archie, I thought, then there’s no point coming to my house, even for a one-night stand. I wanted to make clear that we came as a non-negotiable package.

Dating apps generally don’t tell you when somebody rejects you, so I’ll never know exactly how many dates I lost because of those photos. But I don’t mind. Modern dating is hard, and as any Tinder user will know, you have to cycle through a lot of failed encounters before you find the right person. Anything that can short-circuit this process is very welcome. The cat photos also gave me an easy excuse when I failed to land a date: it must be because of my pets, I thought, rather than my looks or personality. And for those women with whom I did match, my feline housemates provided good conservation fodder, helping us to leapfrog the classic “Hello, how are you?” drudgery.

Then I was introduced through friends to my wife Melissa, the proud owner of a Staffordshire bull terrier and firmly a “dog person”. When we started dating, she found it hard to adapt to my pro-feline lifestyle. She’s something of a clean freak, and it would drive her mad to see the cats slouch in from our garden, covered in mud (it still does). They quickly got fluff all over her favourite clothes – she has now learnt not to wear black.

What’s more, I’ve always allowed the cats to share my bed, something Melissa struggled with at first. Archie sleeps peacefully, causing little fanfare, but Bells spends the night outside hunting, before coming in around 6am. Without fail, she then leaps onto Melissa’s chest and demands a hug by purring incessantly. It used to drive Melissa mad, but she’s learned to embrace it I think.

Indeed, she has gradually come to share my view that cats might just be the perfect pets: they’re as affectionate

My cats were part of my identity, and I wasn’t in any mood to keep them a secret