Even cats grow lonely and anxious.

Mason Cooley, the master of sharp observation, once spoke with quiet tenderness: “Even cats grow lonely and anxious.” His words, though brief, are heavy with meaning. For the cat, that ancient symbol of independence and mystery, is often thought of as aloof and self-sufficient. Yet Cooley reminds us that even the creature most famed for solitude carries within it the need for companionship, affection, and the soothing presence of another.

The ancients revered the cat for its independence. In Egypt it was worshipped as a sacred guardian, a hunter of shadows, and a protector of homes. To the human eye, it seemed untouchable—moving with its own rhythm, obeying no master but itself. Yet Cooley’s words pierce this illusion: beneath the surface of independence lies the universal truth of all living beings—that no heart is untouched by loneliness, and no soul is free of the longing for connection.

His insight is also a reflection on humanity. If even the cat, that emblem of self-reliance, can feel the sting of solitude, how much more so we, who are born into communities, families, and tribes? To be human is to be woven into a web of relationships, and when those bonds weaken, the spirit grows restless, just as the cat paces its empty room. In Cooley’s observation of animals, he speaks to the deeper condition of mankind: that we are all vulnerable to loneliness, no matter how strong or independent we appear.

History gives us luminous examples. Consider the Emperor Marcus Aurelius, who ruled Rome with wisdom and calm. In his writings, the Meditations, he speaks often of the inner fortress of the soul, a place of solitude. Yet even he, the Stoic emperor, admitted moments of sorrow when trust was broken and companionship felt distant. Just as the cat cannot live forever without affection, even the mightiest ruler was touched by loneliness. His honesty, like Cooley’s, teaches us that solitude has its place, but companionship is the balm that keeps the soul from despair.

There is also in this saying a call to compassion. For how often do we mistake the silent for the content, the independent for the unfeeling? The cat that sits alone may still long for touch; the friend who says “I’m fine” may still ache for company. Cooley’s words teach us to look beyond appearances, to recognize that anxiety and loneliness may dwell even where pride or independence seems strongest. It is a call to offer kindness freely, for we cannot always see the hidden battles within others.

The lesson for us is clear: do not despise your own need for companionship, nor deny it in others. To feel lonely is not weakness but the natural condition of beings made for connection. Tend to those around you with gentleness, even those who seem least in need. And tend to yourself as well—seek out fellowship, conversation, and the comfort of shared presence, for these are as vital to the spirit as food is to the body.

Therefore, let Mason Cooley’s words echo in your heart: “Even cats grow lonely and anxious.” Learn from the humble creatures that surround us, for they, too, carry the wisdom of life’s truths. No one is beyond the need for love. No one is so self-reliant that they do not hunger for belonging. Remember this always: independence may shine like armor, but beneath it beats a heart that longs for warmth. And it is in answering this longing, in ourselves and in others, that we fulfill the deepest calling of humanity.