Your cat turns their nose up at chicken paté, sniffs your broccoli with curiosity, and now looks at the local pigeons like comrades rather than prey. You thought you’d adopted a small domestic predator; you now live with an activist who seems moments away from organising a march for sardine liberation. It might be time to accept the obvious: your cat is vegan.

The 5 signs your cat is vegan

1. They refuse their toy mouse out of respect for the animal

They used to disembowel it with enthusiasm. Now, they look at it sadly, as though it were a symbol of the systemic violence inflicted on small mammals. You tried tossing it for them to play with. They sighed.

2. They read their food labels like a health inspector

Chicken? No. Beef? Even worse. Animal by-products? Fascism. Your cat now spends more time analysing the ingredients on their tins than actually eating them, wearing the disgusted look of a food influencer discovering a mass-produced sausage.

3. They try to convert the neighbourhood cats

Yours no longer just avoids meat. They also guilt-trip the neighbour’s cat, show them slaughterhouse documentaries, and explain between meows that chasing a sparrow means actively participating in a chain of oppression. The other cat understands none of it, but is starting to look scared.

4. They’ve developed an unhealthy interest in turmeric

Your cat no longer talks about digestion, fur or bowel movements. They talk about inflammation, gut flora and the antioxidant properties of mild spices. Last time, you caught them sniffing oat milk with the seriousness of a naturopath on MDMA.

5. They look at pigeons with tenderness

They used to spend their days staring at them through the window like a serial killer. Now, they practically coo along with them. You even caught them sharing a quiet moment with a one-eyed pigeon on the windowsill. It’s over. You’ve lost the feline.

How do you handle a vegan cat?

Remind them of their true nature

Pour a little sardine juice over their kibble. Not to manipulate them. Just to wake up, somewhere beneath the speeches on animal ethics, the small whiskered psychopath still slumbering inside them.

Let them talk, but eat your steak in peace

When they explain the conditions of cattle farming, nod gravely. Even pretend to think it over. Then quietly close the kitchen door and get on with your steak, far from their accusing stare.

Confront them with reality

Send them to spend a day with a real cat: a big, battle-scarred, one-eyed alley cat who’s already eaten a live sparrow without ever once wondering about the carbon footprint of the operation. Either they’ll see reason. Or they’ll start a petition.

Conclusion

Today, they refuse chicken, defend pigeons and probably demand an eco-friendly litter made from recycled fibres. Tomorrow, they’ll insist on silken tofu, a hemp blanket and a ban on wool cushions “on principle”. The hardest part, ultimately, isn’t living with a vegan cat. It’s watching them willingly give up everything that made them such a magnificent little monster. Is My Cat a Leftie? and its sequels will introduce you to other equally unbearable felines: activist cats, bourgeois cats, regionalist cats, conspiracy-theorist cats, or simply insufferable ones with a tote bag.