With a good caregiver the answer is “indoor cats have a better quality of life,” hands down.
An outdoor cat has the benefit of entertaining themselves, they can engage in natural behaviors such as climbing, digging, hunting, and sunning. If they’re a social cat, they may enjoy the company of other neighborhood cats.
However, they would be exposed to more daily stress. Stress scurrying across the road with a car barreling down, stress from trying to keep other cats off their turf, stress from coming across native predators or dogs.
It’s also more difficult to monitor health of an outdoor cat, so although they may enjoy hunting and digging they won’t enjoy having worms. They won’t enjoy struggling to pee, or being constipated, which their owner may not pick up on because they do most of their business in the neighbors garden.
Their deaths are often less “quality” as well, the reason free-roaming cats tend to live shorter lifespans is because of trauma and illness. They may enjoy sunning themselves, but wouldn’t enjoy dragging themselves to the side of the road to die because they chose the wrong patch of asphalt. They may enjoy climbing, but wouldn’t enjoy it if a bird of prey snatches them off a branch.
Indoor cats with inadequate owners will become bored, depressed, and often destructive. If fed poorly they’re more likely to be obese or develop health issues such as renal, thyroid, or urinary problems. This is, clearly, not a good quality of life.
However this can easily be remedied by providing an enriching environment using cat shelves, crinkle tunnels, cat trees, scratching posts, etc. and engaging in daily interactive enrichment.
If the cat craves the authenticity of an outdoor experience enclosures can be purchased or made, or they can be harness trained to safely enable their desire to roam. Ways to bring authentic outdoor fun inside is providing f/t feeder chicks or rodents, letting them hunt purchased feeder insects, or providing a dig box with soil from the yard if it’s pesticide free.
It’s also easier to monitor a cats health. Cats tend to hide if they’re ill, being around them all the time gives you a better feel for their behavior and if somethings off. It’s also easier to monitor their litter use and urine / stool health, which is often an early warning sign. Being able to notice the issue sooner means less time the cat is suffering, and if it’s a serious health issue the cat then has a better chance of recovery.
The quality of death is often better, a well-cared for indoor cat is most probably going to die of age or from euthanasia.
So the quality of life for an outdoor cat may be situationally better than the quality of life of an indoor cat who has a unqualified owner, but an indoor cat with an owner who knows what they’re doing and is willing to put the time and effort into having a pet isn’t missing any of the “pros” an outdoor cat experiences but is spared the “cons” both the outdoor cat and the poorly owned indoor cat suffer.
Is this the way things have always been? The question is always nestled in the back of your mind, smile carefully in place as you nod along with someone’s conversation. You don’t know who they are - their face feels familiar, but the list of remembered names in your mind is very small. You stare at their cracked lips, trying to commit their words to memory. You wonder if they had ever used chapstick, and just as that thought bubbled to the surface, time slipped sideways. You awake from your dream to find seconds have passed, countless words lost in the haze of existing and you look up at the person speaking. “I’m sorry,” you say, with that careful smile painted delicately across your face, “Could you repeat that?” They do, but the words slide like quicksilver in and out of your ears, darting just long enough to hear, but not long enough to understand. You blink, trying to remember, but that moment is gone as if it had never happened. They are already talking about something else, addressing you by name, but their own name remains lost. Conversations flow like a river around you, snatches of meaning caught here and there, but holding onto conversations is like trying to dam a stream with a bucket. You learn to scoop down as quickly as you can, snatching just enough context to divine meaning.
Is this the way things have always been? The light bulb needs to be changed. There are two bulbs, one broken, one not. The room is dim, but not so dim that it is untreadable. You see the light bulb, and it registers as something that Needs To Be Done. You look down to the warm mug in your hands, and consider that to change the bulb, you need to have your hands free. And the thought is gone, the significance of room dimness lost as your thoughts fizz like static to wrap around the mug’s heat. You find the mug the next day, left on the corner of your desk, drained of coffee. The room’s dimness is remembered, but you should take care of that mug first, right? It could mold. By the time you place the mug in the sink, your thoughts are already occupied by dish soaps and lipid breakdowns, and the bulb lies forgotten, nestled dead against the ceiling.
One morning, neither bulb turns on, and you navigate the kitchen by the light of your cell phone before work. That night, you use your cell phone again, because you’ve forgotten where the bulbs are, and need to get gas to get to the store. The next night and the night after that, you ate early enough in the day that light bulbs weren’t needed, so the deadness never registered as a problem. At the end of the week, your hunger draws you to the kitchen late in the evening, but it’s too late in the day to go to the store - they won’t be open. When the problem of the bulb is not in front of you - is not making an active nuisance of itself, it’s like it doesn’t even exist. Nothing in this world exists, when it’s not in front of you.
Is this the way things have always been? “You’re so good at traveling!” your coworker said, “Aren’t you homesick?” Belatedly, you realize that you’ve been away from home for a week and a half. Each day seems like an individual lifetime. They flow back-to-back never quite related, for all their similarities. Like picking up a new novel every morning, each set of problems is unique to that situation. Like picking up a new novel every morning, the previous book’s worries shed like water. They’re not here anymore, so they don’t matter. “Do your parents know you’re in California?” No, you think to yourself, I haven’t talked to them in months. It’s not any malice or dislike that stops you from calling, and that’s what frightens you, a little. You’d be happy talking to them, but you just…. Forgot. Like all things, when they aren’t in front of you: They just don’t seem to exist.
Is this the way things have always been?
“You know I was only joking!” I didn’t, you think to yourself, forcing a titter of agreeable laughter. Every word, unless emphasized deeply with emotive gestures and tonal changes, seems genuine. Flat-faced delivery of falsehoods always rings true to your ears. It takes effort to remember to parse out people’s wording - their delivery - and compare it against their previously stated opinions and choices. It takes effort to remember to analyze again and again and again and again, until every conversation is a minefield of potential missteps, drawing close a handful of responses that could be interpreted a hundred different ways. At least with those, you can play along. “How come you’re being so quiet?” It’s exhausting to dance the dance of smalltalk, when your feet just seem unable to develop that muscle memory. So every conversation becomes mechanical, automatic, words filtering through keyword searches and tonal registers to find the ‘correct’ response that is both situationally appropriate, not emotionally hurtful, and hopefully accurate enough not to elicit guilt. Like all automations, It doesn’t always work. Like all machines, it doesn’t feel real. The people of the world seem like a thousand NPCs, all demanding answers from an endless multiple-choice list of dialogue options. Humans become something like obsticals, and conversations like challenges, fights waged with memorized expressions and rote responses. You become accustomed to spitting back wisdom from books and television shows written by actual people, in the hopes that their words can make your forced empathy seem real. None of it feels real.
Is this the way things have always been? “Do you have a crush on anyone?” Should I? Sexual and Romantic relationships burn brightly, all-consuming while they last. Obsessive is a word fit for the hungry hoarding of dragons, and the vicious consuming of ghosts. It is an accurate adjective for your heart. While things are here they are all that exist. While things are elsewhere they may as well have never existed at all. It applies to tasks, To objects, To people, To relationships. To your own emotions.
Existence itself remains a fleeting experience of not-quite-real spaces. Each moment feeling the most important thing you’ve ever done, yet once that moment passed it leaves only the briefest of marks on your heart or memory. Often the memory slides away completely, leaving nothing but the memories of others, and whatever few pictures were taken. Your self exists eternally on the outskirts of other peoples lives, recollection of what you’re like always reminded by pictures and stories told by friends. That perfect, careful smile painted delicately across your face slips to neutrality when alone. You simply consume the world, experience it, and let it go again. An eternal catch-and-release, where there is no fish more important than the one caught in your gaze NOW.
Is this the way things have always been?
And will always be.
Your mind is a Liminal Space, and the world around you can only briefly visit.
Off the back of my first post regarding Space Dad Kolivan have some headcannons/ideas/random stuff!!
Lance narrating: “Funnily enough, the deadliest of us is also the dadliest”
Hunk slips while pulling food out of the oven, Kolivan catches the food in one hand and Hunk in the other.
He likes to throw Pidge. Straight up at dubious heights, across the room, behind the enemy’s lines during a battle as some kind of flanking maneuver. He’ll just pick her up and toss her bc he can
He’ll actively and noticeably censor himself in the paladins’ presence.
Always manages to land a perfectly centered slap on the back of Lance’s head as situationally required
He’s legit the “I’m everywhere” dad
He has a Dad Chair on the castle, even when he’s not there it’s left for him
T H E T H E R M O S T A T
He’s like a reverse gremlin, little inconsequential fixes that took the back-burner are suddenly being done and no one knows how or who by until Coran catches Kolivan adjusting something and he’s just like “it helps me think”
Kolivan insists on cooking a traditional Galra meal bc Kieth needs to taste his heritage
He’s a fab cook and Galra cooking is bae
Kolivan is very proud of himself and gladly teaches Hunk the recipes
He can drive and park any vehicle perfectly on the first try regardess of whether or not he has prior experience with said vehicle
He even once managed to drift into a flawless parallel park during a high speed escape
Can turn any situation or funny story into a Valuable Life Lesson
“Alright paladins, we’re going to do this clearly dangerous and highly risky thing in a needlessly complex yet still over-simplified way”
Creative in the most unusually creative way.
*explosion* the team comes running in to see Kolivan crouching with his back to the blast, looking badass. Kolivan stands up revealing a previously completely hidden Pidge, not a hair out of place
*is holding a baby, baby screams in delight* A MIGHTY WARRIORS CRY
Highkey protective af
Totally chill with Pidge climbing all over him, he doesn’t even notice the extra weight
One time Hunk found them in the bridge doing some modifications together and took a picture bc it was too cute
Kolivan was standing, leaning on the control panel doing things while Pidge was perched on his shoulders with her laptop on the top of his head, typing
They were both so hyper-focused that neither noticed Hunk quietly squeeing
He can and will fall asleep anywhere
but will wake up and be totally alert in 0.3 sec if he needs to catch someone/something
One time Kieth was standing on the kitchen counter looking for food on the top shelves bc he’s the second shortest person and he stepped back too far but Kolivan just reached out and pushed him back into a standing position without even looking up from his reading
“I Am What I Am” This is marketing’s latest offering to the world, the final stage in the development of advertising, far beyond all the exhortations to be different, to be oneself and drink Pepsi. Decades of concepts in order to get where we are, to arrive at pure tautology. I = I. He’s running on a treadmill in front of the mirror in his gym. She’s coming back from work, behind the wheel of her Smart car. Will they Meet?
from The Coming Insurrection by The Invisible Committee
The leftist, trapped in the permanent false choice between following his own immediate desires and sacrificing for his ideals, despises the ‘selfish’ person who unhesitatingly chooses immediate, private satisfaction. The genuine communist also despises this latter type, but for the opposite reason: being restricted to immediate private satisfaction is not satisfying enough. To the communist, furthermore, for such 'selfish’ people to remain satisfied with their privatized, alienated lives is a direct barrier to the realization of the communist’s own expanded self-interest. Somewhere in every rank and file leftist lurks a confused intuition that this is the real reason for his contempt: but this intuition is continually stifled by the leftist’s own insistence on the 'necessity’ of sacrifice.
Altruism is the other side of the coin of ‘hell-is-other-people’; only this time mystification appears under a positive sign. Let’s put an end to this old soldier crap once and for all! For others to interest me I must first find in myself the energy for such an interest. What binds me to others must grow out of what binds me to the most exuberant and demanding part of my will to live; not the other way round. It is always myself that I am looking for in other people; my enrichment, my realization. let everyone understand this and 'each for himself’ taken to its ultimate conclusion will be transformed into 'all for each’. The freedom of one will be the freedom of all. A community which is not built on the demands of individuals and their dialectic can only reinforce the oppressive violence of power. The Other in whom I do not find myself is nothing but a thing, and altruism leads me to the love of things, to the love of my isolation.