Please hold, there's a cat
Jeanette Chan is a member of the DISTRACTION curatorial panel and part of Science Gallery Melbourne’s Sci Curious team. Read her poem Please Hold, There’s a Cat, written for the DISTRACTION zine.
Business Cat and baby bear by Zeth Cameron for the DISTRACTION zine
*sees a cat*
My brain:
Ah. A cat.
Why do people like cats so much?
Is it because they’re fluffy? Cute? Mysterious?
But most of them run away when you try to pet them. They live in this kind of untouchable bubble. You can look. You can admire. But they choose if you’re allowed in. It's like living with a little royal. You serve them snacks. You scoop their litter. You pay rent on a place they act like they own.
They sit in sunbeams like monarchs. Perfectly still. Half-lidded gaze.
They blink like they know something you don’t.
Probably do.
Hiss.
I remember—tried to pat a cat when I was a kid. Maybe six years old. Reached out with my tiny hand, and the thing clawed me.
Fair enough. I didn’t ask.
Still—rude.
Kirsty had a cat that scratched the carpet to death. Constantly. Scritch scritch scritch. There was a big fancy cat tree, barely touched.
Why do they do that? Protest? Spite? Stress?
No idea. The carpet didn’t deserve it. Maybe the cat didn’t either.
Do people trim their claws? Is that even the right word—claws? Not nails. I have nails. Mine get clipped. Filed. Sometimes painted.
Cats have those soft pads. Like skin pretending to be clouds.
Then BAM—razors come out. Hidden weapons.
Would be kind of cool if humans had that.
Cats are just small cats. But also, cats are small lions. Same eyes. Same tail flick. Same "I’ll eat you if I was bigger" vibe.
What if house cats were couch-sized but still insisted on sitting on your laptop?
We say “big cats” like it’s a separate category. But we don’t say “big dogs,” really. Wolves exist, sure. But they don’t get the same myth. Cats have this built-in mystery. Like they know they used to be worshipped and haven’t forgotten.
Then my brain goes:
Wait—are dinosaurs big dogs? Or big birds?
Birds are definitely dinosaurs. But I’m not sure all dinosaurs are birds. Like math. Like venn diagrams.
Maybe birds are just what happens when dinosaurs calm down a bit.
Evolution is weird.
Dogs are different. You walk dogs. They pant. They love you immediately.
Their breath is awful—like bin juice—but they love you with their whole body.
I used to work in a pharmacy. People came in asking for breath strips like their lives depended on it. But never for their dogs. Maybe they just gave up.
I’ve seen people walk cats too. Harnessed. Tense. The cat moves like it’s tolerating the whole concept. Like the leash is beneath them.
Some people get excited when their cat acts like a dog. “She plays fetch!” “He greets me at the door!”
We get so happy when cats return affection. It feels rare. Special. Like a little blessing.
Maybe that’s the whole thing. We like cats because they make us work for it.
Or maybe it’s because they force us to slow down.
They don’t perform for us. You have to watch them on their terms.
They blink slowly. Sit in silence. Take up space unapologetically.
You meditate. They blink.
Same thing.
Cats are presence. Cats are pause. Cats are a question mark.
You can’t pin them down. And honestly, maybe that’s what we need. Something we don’t control.
The internet says they’re low maintenance.
I think that just means “they’ll be fine without you.”
Which is both comforting and mildly offensive.
Still, sometimes they curl up next to you. Or sit just close enough to touch. They rest their chin on your ankle. Or purr when you didn’t ask. Not because you called them, but because they chose you.
That’s the real magic.
Sometimes I think the cat is the distraction. But maybe not. Maybe the cat is what cuts through the noise.
The distraction is everything else.
irl: *blinks*
Both this poem and the illustration accompanying it here first appeared in the DISTRACTION exhibition zine.
Jeanette Chan (author) is an economist, policy wonk, mental health advocate, and peer researcher. Their work amplifies intersectional and marginalised perspectives to foster equity and inclusion. With an insatiable curiosity and a penchant for deep conversation, Jeanette is passionate about exploring how creative practices can spark meaningful conversations for change.
Zeth Cameron (illustrator) is an artist and occasional graphic designer. They love to facilitate creative workshops for young people and tinker about in their studio, where they are a Yarra Youth grant recipient and artist in residence. Their practice is grounded in their experiences with ADHD and gender non-conformity, and embraces work that is both playful and critical.
