Different Cats, Different Love Languages, Same Heart to Give

Sarah Haag
Jul 29
4 min read

Living with cats is an adventure—equal parts cozy snuggles, dramatic side-eyes, and constant questioning of whether they truly love us or are just tolerating us for the food. In my house, I have two adopted P.A.W.S. cats who couldn’t be more different: Nadia, the laid-back socialite who loves everyone and acts more like a dog than a cat, and Finley, a large, black-and-white box enthusiast with the brainpower of a potato and the anxiety level of a caffeinated squirrel. They both bring chaos and charm in equal measure, but every now and then, I can’t help but wonder: Do they love me... or just the treats I hand out?

Nadia: My Laid-Back Lap Napper & Mighty Toy Hunter

Nadia is always looking for a cozy place to nap.

Nadia is the kind of cat that makes cat-haters rethink their life choices. She’s orange, she’s affectionate, and she’s got the temperament of a very chill golden retriever.

She loves everyone—family, friends, strangers, probably even the mailman. She greets people at the door with a friendly meow and a tail that literally wags like a dog’s. I’m not even sure she knows she’s a cat.

The Christmas tree is her own, private jungle.

When Nadia's not napping in a sunbeam or

curled up on a lap, she's climbing things or chasing her toys and prancing through the house, proudly carrying her stuffed chicken in her mouth, shouting like she's the fearless defender of all things feathered. The whole house is expected to cheer, of course. And we do. Because Nadia deserves applause.

She’s cuddly, playful, affectionate, and the most emotionally balanced member of the household. If we could bottle Nadia’s vibes, we’d all be sleeping better.

Finley: A Box-Loving, Black-and-White, Anxious Chunk of Love

Finley actually smiles when his person is petting him.

And then there’s Finley.

Finley is… well, he’s cute. Very cute. He’s also a very large, black-and-white boy who gives off the vibe of a sentient loaf of bread with anxiety.

He is adorably brainless, endlessly round, and scared of everything—including, but not limited to: birds, people walking by, the wind blowing, thunder, and my oldest daughter, who has done exactly zero things to earn his distrust. She's just living her life, and he's convinced she’s plotting his demise.

In contrast, Finley’s one true love—his reason for existing, his emotional support human, his sun and stars—is my youngest daughter. If she’s in the room, Finley is right next to her. If she leaves, he cries like a tragic soap opera character whose soulmate just got written off the show.

If she’s not around, and you’re very lucky (and probably holding food), Finley might grace you with his presence. He’ll flop down next to you like a distrustful bowling ball, purr loudly, and accept exactly 3.5 pets before attempting to bite you for breaking the sacred "no-touch" contract.

And then there’s the boxes....

Oh, the boxes. Big boxes, small boxes, comically tiny boxes—Finley sees them all as five-star luxury resorts. The laws of physics don’t matter to him. If he fits, he sits. If he doesn’t fit, he still sits. He once tried to cram his fluffy self into a small jewelry box. Was it successful? No. Did he try again? Absolutely.

So, Do They Actually Love Me?

In short: yes. But in two very different (and hilarious) ways.

Nadia makes her love known. She naps in my lap. She greets me at the door. She flops down and slow-blinks me into emotional submission. She wants to be near people, on people, and praised loudly for her incredible hunting skills (stuffed toys count).

Finley is... harder to impress. He’s shy. He’s suspicious. He’s not entirely sure the faucet isn’t planning his assassination. But when he decides you’re safe—and only after his favorite human has disappeared—he’ll snuggle up to you in the quietest, most cautious way possible. And when he does? It feels like winning an Oscar. Or a Nobel Prize in Cat Trust.

Final Thoughts from the Land of Fur and Chaos

So yes—my cats love me. Not just because I serve the snacks. Not just because I adopted them and gave them a forever home.

I’m Nadia’s person, no question—she makes it loud and clear with every headbutt, purr, slow blink, sun-drenched nap in my lap, and "prey" she triumphantly lays at my feet. Finley? I’m not his first choice… but he still loves me. He shows it in his own quiet, awkward way—like when he lets me hold him (occasionally), or when he sleeps by my side at night and purrs loud enough to wake the dead (okay, technically only because my youngest won’t let him in her room since he keeps her awake, but still).

And honestly? I’ll take it. Because love from a dramatic orange diva or a large, anxious box-dweller is still love—and I’m lucky to have both.

In what ways does your cat show you he or she loves you? Tell us in the comments below.

Interested in adopting a cat? Check out our wonderful cats here.