Black Cats Make Mondays Better
It’s Monday again, but today is also National Black Cat Appreciation Day. If ever there were a reason to make Monday a little brighter, celebrating black cats—especially my Isabella—seems like a very good one.
Black cats have long been associated with superstition, particularly the belief that they bring bad luck. Although most people probably do not take those old stories seriously, the stigma has never entirely disappeared. In shelters across the United States, black cats are often overlooked in favor of cats with more colorful or distinctive markings. Some people still avoid them because of superstition, while others simply do not notice how beautiful and expressive they can be.
Anyone who has ever shared a home with a black cat knows there is nothing unlucky about them.
Isabella has been part of my life for more than ten years now, and I cannot imagine my home without her. She wakes me around four every morning to make sure breakfast is served promptly, and she has perfected the art of finding exposed skin when gentler methods fail. She has her routines, her preferences, and very definite opinions about how our household should operate. As far as Isabella is concerned, I merely live here to meet her needs.
Still, she is also my companion. She makes an ordinary day less lonely and a difficult day easier simply by being near me. She can be demanding, stubborn, affectionate, funny, and endlessly entertaining—often all within the span of a few minutes. She brings far more love and happiness into my life than any superstition could ever outweigh.
Black cats are not bad luck, sinister, or somehow less worthy of affection. They are simply cats, each with a personality entirely their own, waiting for someone willing to see beyond the color of their fur.
If you are ever considering adopting a cat, do not pass over the quiet black one watching from the corner—or hiding beneath a chair while her brothers run around the room. I am so glad I reached down and picked up that quiet, frightened, and beautiful little cat named Bridget. Of course, that name would never do. Bridget became Isabella, and she came home with me.
Mondays may not always be worth celebrating, but black cats certainly are.
Joe
August 17th, 2026 at 7:25 am
Isabella is gorgeous. Reading your Monday post brought back memories of my black cat, Willie. You described his personality to a tee. I sure do miss Willie. Enjoy every minute and thank you for a great Monday post.
August 18th, 2026 at 4:20 am
Adorable images.
August 18th, 2026 at 4:29 am
In our house outside Cape Town we had a semi-wild black cat with white paws – named Boots of course by my small sister.
He had no fear of snakes and would often bring his kills back home to show us his prowess. The young black servant would scream and jump on the kitchen table because for many Africans snakes are very bad ju-ju. My mum was pretty frightened too and my poor dad had to motor in from the embassy in Cape Town to sweep the snake into the bin and restore order in the house.