Climbing to the Highest Point

Ask where a cat's favourite spot in the house is and the answer is very often the highest place it can reach. This is not mischief or a taste for the forbidden; it is one of the most fundamental features of how cats use space.

Height serves three purposes at once. It provides safety, because a raised perch is difficult for a predator or an unwelcome housemate to approach unseen. It provides surveillance, letting a cat monitor entrances, activity and the movements of other animals from a position of advantage — cats are ambush hunters, and elevation is a hunting asset as well as a defensive one. And in multi-cat households it provides status: access to the best elevated positions is one of the main currencies of feline social life, and the cat holding the top of the cat tree is rarely there by accident.

This is why behaviourists talk about vertical territory. The floor area of a home is only part of the space available to a cat; the walls, shelves, windowsills and furniture tops effectively multiply it. A house with generous vertical routes can support more cats, with less conflict, than its floor plan alone would suggest, because cats can pass one another, retreat and rest at different levels rather than competing for the same ground.

Practically, this argues for working with the instinct rather than against it. Cat trees, wall-mounted shelves, cleared windowsills and a safe route up to a wardrobe top all give a cat legitimate height, and usually reduce its interest in the kitchen counter. Perches beside a window are particularly valuable, combining elevation with something to watch. In multi-cat homes, several separate high spots matter more than one large one, so that no single cat can monopolise the view.

A cat that stops jumping up to its usual places, or that starts choosing lower perches, is worth watching — declining height often reflects arthritis or pain rather than a change of preference.