My friend Joan loved two things a smidge more than others: competition and her dog.

The competitive side showed up in our weekly ping-pong matches. Her competitive spirit was so intense and such a big part of her personality that I would have to consider it a rarity!

Her love of dogs? Well, that's not particularly unusual. Many people love dogs. But Joan had a theory about dogs that I never completely bought into: dogs were simply better companions than cats.

Her reasoning made sense from her experience. Her little terrier, Casey, was almost always with her. He greeted her when she came home, followed her around the house, and wanted to be wherever she was. To Joan, that constant companionship was one of the things that made dogs so special.

I understood what she meant. I'm a dog lover, too. I grew up with Collies and adored them. However, I just didn't think she was giving cats a fair shake.

You see, my cats had always greeted me at the door, too. My cats have always followed me from room to room. They wanted to sit beside me, sleep near me, and generally keep track of what I was doing. Not just one, mind you. No. After decades of living with cats, Neyland, Bocce, Molly, Toku, and now Ms. Cuddles and Cali have each shown these same traits.

So, that got me thinking: maybe this isn't really a dog-versus-cat issue at all.

Maybe it's an individual-animal issue.

Casey Wasn't Interested in Ping-Pong

Casey was quite eager to join us for our weekly ping-pong bouts, but safety meant that he needed to sit those out. With two people moving around, paddles swinging, and a little terrier underfoot, it just wasn't a great combination.

But keep in mind, Casey wasn't really interested in ping-pong. When the game ended, Joan and I would sit in her cabana and talk. Casey would happily join us and settle in with Joan.

He was interested in being with Joan.

Casey didn't need to participate in everything Joan did. He simply wanted to remain connected to her.

And isn't that what we mean when we talk about a companion animal?

But Guess What? My Cats Were Doing the Same Thing...

Where Joan saw a dog who was constantly by her side, I saw something very similar in my cats.

They greeted me when I came home. They followed me around the house. They would show up when I sat down, settle in beside me, and somehow manage to make themselves part of whatever I was doing.

Same behavior.

We often judge animal behavior according to our expectations. A dog that follows you from room to room looks like the perfect companion. A cat that does the same thing may be branded as “clingy” or “needy.”

Likewise, a dog that wants to sit beside you is demonstrating affection, while a cat that chooses to sit three feet away may be perfectly content simply sharing the same space.

The behavior isn't necessarily less meaningful because it looks different. We're just interpreting it through our own expectations.

And that got me wondering whether there's another piece to this.

Then Something Interesting Happens

I've seen households with very affectionate, engaged cats. Pets that seem thoroughly connected to their household and their humans.

Then a dog comes into the picture.

In some cases, the cat appears to retreat. The dog may be more physically demanding, more demonstrative, more persistent about getting attention, or simply more energetic. The cat may begin spending more time in another room, staying out of the way or interacting less with its human.

It's tempting to look at that and say, “See? That's why dogs are better companions.”

But that's not really what happened.

A new animal changed the environment.

Now the cat has another animal sharing its space and potentially competing for attention, resources, resting places, and access to its people. The cat may also have a completely different temperament from the dog. Some animals adapt easily to that change; others don't.

And that distinction matters because behavior isn't created in a vacuum.

Our pets respond to the environment around them, and that environment can change over time.

Ms. Cuddles vs. Cali—Sometimes It's Not Dog vs. Cat, But Cat vs. Cat

I've seen this firsthand in my own home.

Ms. Cuddles earned her name by being one of the most affectionate cats I've ever known. She was a stray who took weeks to build up trust in me, which I finally earned. Once she did, she was with me constantly.

Then Cali came along.

Cali is more energetic, more playful, and considerably more boisterous. She is literally with me constantly, too, and I've seen Ms. Cuddles retreat at times.

So I've had to make sure I'm doing everything I can to make Ms. Cuddles feel like she's still very much part of this family.

For instance, a quick trip upstairs to retrieve something may result in Ms. Cuddles running into the guest room and jumping on the bed. I've learned that this means, “I need some attention.”

So she gets some attention.

We have our nighttime routine that she's very much engaged in, and I make sure there are plenty of those little moments where she gets to have my undivided attention. It's not that Cali has somehow replaced the relationship I have with Cuddles. It's that the social environment has changed, and Cuddles has had to adjust to a new personality in the mix.

That means I've had to put in a little extra effort to make sure she still feels that same sense of home and family as before.

And honestly, I think that's part of being a responsible pet owner.

The Environment Matters

Ultimately, it's not always about a dog-versus-cat dichotomy. Sometimes it's about the environment.

And the environment isn't static.

A new pet arrives. Someone moves into the house. A family member moves out. A routine changes. A pet gets older. The household becomes busier. Even something as simple as a change in where food, water, litter boxes, beds, or favorite resting spots are located can affect how an animal experiences its surroundings.

Our pets are constantly responding to the world around them.

That's why a pet that feels safe, has predictable routines, has places to retreat when needed, and receives positive interaction on its own terms has a better opportunity to develop a comfortable relationship with the people and animals around them.

Of course, every animal is different. Personality, temperament, history, age, and individual experiences all play a role. We can't simply create the “perfect” environment and expect every dog or cat to respond the same way.

But we can pay attention.

We can notice when something changes.

And we can make adjustments when our pets tell us—sometimes very subtly—that they need something different.

That's true whether the pet has four legs and says “woof” or four legs and looks miffed at you because they're annoyed by your running an Airbnb for pets.

It's Not Dog vs. Cat

All things considered, perhaps Joan and I were actually closer in our thinking than we realized.

She wasn't wrong about Casey. He really was a wonderful companion.

I wasn't wrong about my cats, either. They have all been wonderful companions.

The more animals I've known, the less interested I've become in deciding which species makes the “better” pet. That's almost like asking whether a great friend is better than a great sibling.

Dogs can be exuberant companions. Cats can be quietly devoted companions. Some dogs want to be involved in everything. Some cats do, too. Some animals want to sit in your lap, while others would prefer to sit across the room and keep you company from there.

The real challenge is learning who your animal is.

Pay attention to what makes them comfortable. Learn how they communicate. Give them opportunities to interact with you without forcing interaction. Let them have their own space, their own routines, and their own ways of showing affection.

Because maybe our pets really aren't trying to live up to some definition of what a dog or cat is supposed to be. They're responding to their environment, their experiences, their individual personalities—and to us.

Casey wasn't trying to be a different kind of dog. He didn't need or want to play ping-pong. He just wanted to be wherever Joan was.

And my cats weren't trying to be dogs, either. They were simply being cats who had learned that home was a place where being close to their human felt good.

So, maybe it's not about whether dogs or cats make better companions. It's about whether we're giving the individual animal in front of us the kind of environment where companionship has room to grow.