We got tired of hiding the cat furniture.
Nine pieces across three categories, made to live in a room you already like. Designed in [Austin], built with our workshop partners in [Ohio].
The short version.
Cat furniture is sold on the assumption that you will accept something ugly because your cat cannot tell the difference. We think that is backwards: the cat lives in your room, so the object has to work for both of you.
Every cat bed in our flat lived behind the sofa. Not because the cat disliked them — she did not — but because they were grey plush igloos with paw prints printed on the side, and we did not want them in a photograph. That is a stupid reason to compromise, and it turned out a lot of people had the same one.
So we started with both constraints at once. It has to be something a cat will actually choose — the right height, the right enclosure, a surface that takes claws — and something you would leave out when your in-laws visit. Almost everything on the market solves one and ignores the other.
The catch is that solving both costs more. Solid walnut costs several times what printed particle board costs. Wet-felting wool in one piece takes longer than stitching two halves. We deal with that by carrying very few things and buying each of them deep, rather than by cutting the material and hoping you do not notice.
We are also straight about what we do not do. We do not make litter boxes, we do not sell food, and we do not ship outside the US yet. When a piece is out of stock we say when it is coming back rather than taking the order anyway.
Three materials, and why each one.
Almost everything we sell is made of one of these. If a piece uses something else, its product page says what and why.
American black walnut
FSC-certified, kiln-dried, cut so the grain runs continuously round a mitred corner. Finished in hardwax oil rather than lacquer, which means a scratch buffs out instead of needing the whole piece resurfaced. No veneer, no MDF core, anywhere.
Wet-felted wool
Made in one piece, so there are no seams to pull apart when a cat treats the opening like a doorway. Naturally odour-resistant and it holds its shape for years. Spot clean; it does not go in a machine.
Tight-wound sisal
Wound under tension over a hardwood core rather than glued to cardboard, which is why it lasts. When it finally goes, the sleeve replaces for [$12] instead of the whole post going in a skip.
A [$78] bed, itemised.
Rounded to the nearest dollar and averaged across a year. We publish it because “honest pricing” means nothing if nobody shows the arithmetic.
Nine things. Take [30] nights to decide.
If it does not get used, send it back — we pay the return label. That offer is only affordable because the return rate is [4.1%], and the return rate is [4.1%] because of everything above.
Beds · Trees · Scratchers