What It Means To Be an HSC

By Taffy the Cat

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I am an HSC, a highly sensitive cat. I can’t help it. It’s my nature.

My hearing is exceptional. I feel everything deeply. And I can’t turn it off.

Unexpected noises and movements startle me, always.

I hate the doorbell. Even though it rings almost every day, it scares me every time.

Every day I must carefully scout suitable sleeping locations.

Free of human interference. Quiet, cozy and not too bright. Putting my paw over my eyes has limited effects.

It doesn’t help that my favorite chairs are also my family’s favorites.

The female humans are usually kind about this. My human Dad is less understanding. When he wants his chair back, negotiations are brief.

I also require love and cuddles every day from each member of my family. Otherwise I become sad.

I cannot stand the feeling of being even slightly hungry. It is extremely stressful.

My family finds my sensitivity excessive at times. My mother, Chiquitina, says I would never survive in the wild.

Perhaps of all my family, my human mother understands me best. She is highly sensitive too. Although, being human, she has advantages. Earplugs, for example, and sunglasses.

But my family only sees one side of my experience.

My favorite time is the night.

The sun no longer hurts my eyes. The doorbell rarely rings. There is less to see, but there is so much to hear.

My family sees me sitting for hours at the threshold, ears perked forward. They see nothing.

But there is so much for me to experience!

I hear the neighbors’ chickens settling onto their perches for the night. Deer foraging quietly up the hill. A fox searching for his dinner somewhere in the darkness.

I can smell who has passed through the garden. I enjoy the cool night air moving through my whiskers.

The freedom of being able to go outside, but choosing instead to simply observe, is delicious.

Sometimes I do wander out into the night as well. Especially if Penny is nearby.

Penny likes adventure. She enjoys chasing things, investigating things, and is generally always busy.

To me that seems entirely unnecessary.

I also like birds. Not to hunt them, like Penny. I like to communicate with them.

Some are quite cheeky, but they are all beautiful and funny, and their noises are pleasant, for the most part.

I do my best to speak to them in their language. My accent is probably too strong.

The world is overwhelming. It is often frightening. But it is also very beautiful.