A noble cat's move down the street made me wonder: what makes a place a home? | Clarke Gayford

A neighbour offered temporary shelter during a home renovation, but the cat that belonged to the family did not stay behind. The cat instead moved into the temporary home after sensing the family’s relocation, crossing the road and settling with the group of humans who provided food and affection. The situation raises questions about what makes a place feel like home, suggesting that emotional attachment comes from sensory familiarity and repeated interactions. The narrator reflects on years of living out of a suitcase across multiple cities and considers how arrival moments and local smells can trigger belonging. The reflection includes a comparison of population and housing density, noting that Australia has a house for every 2.5 people.

"The cat, having got wind of its family relocation, promptly upped its own four little leg-sticks and wandered down the street, crossing the road, moving into this temporary abode with them. The cat's home, as it turned out, wasn't anchored by location, but by the company of the oddball bunch of humans who slung jellymeat and jowl rubs in its general direction."

"I've been thinking about that cat a lot over these last three years while living out of not much more than a suitcase between Auckland, Boston, Spain, London and now Sydney with our small family unit of three. What is it exactly that makes a place a home? What ties you to an area where all the sensory touchstones of familiarity seep just a little deeper under your skin, triggering that strong emotional response?"

"A feeling you get from the moment the plane wheels touch down or the suburb is reached. Perhaps ignited when nostrils are filled with that unique localised blend of pollens and pollution that sends an instant brain signal that this is where track pants and slippers are a suitable outfit of choice."

"Driving through Sydney's urban streets this last week, past row after row of houses that felt so much more familiar than we'd seen in Massachusetts, the seven-year-old in the backseat piped up to ask, Dad, how many people in the world are there? I stabbed at an answer of 6bn (Google corrects me to 8.3bn) followed by, OK, well how many houses in the world are there?''"

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