SEATTLE — The most unexpected guest at the Sea-Meow convention this year wasn’t the influencer in a velour bathrobe, or the musicians in full-head cat masks playing a rather mournful rendition of “Come On Eileen” on violin and accordion, or the smiling dance troupe who performed a lively number with Fosse-esque hands splayed like paws; rather, it was a dog. A very small dog, with soft ears and an alert expression, riding in someone’s tote bag and looking like maybe it wished it were a cat, as perhaps many of us at Sea-Meow did.
Taking place this month at Seattle Center Exhibition Hall, Sea-Meow is billed as “The Biggest Cat Convention in the Purrcific Northwest” on its cat-pun-filled website. (Sign up for the meowsletter!) It is, in other words, a vast gathering of cat people, for the purposes of cooing over cat merch and sighing over shelter kittens and smiling at the sight of a little kid wearing cat ears. While attending felt a bit like going to a strictly cat-themed shopping mall, it’s for a good cause: 20 percent of proceeds go to a handful of local nonprofits engaged in cat rescue and welfare. I didn’t hear back from organizers regarding this year’s attendance numbers, but the Exhibition Hall was thick with people, particularly Saturday (excuse me, Caturday).
Let me establish my credentials right here: I am, unquestionably, a cat person. Just this morning, before I started writing this story, I cleaned up a hairball and retrieved my quick-darting orange tabby from the sweater shelf on which it is her life’s goal to set up permanent residency. I spend inordinate amounts of time greeting the cat in cute voices (she has many adorable nicknames, none of which I will share), or removing peach-colored hair from my nicest dark clothing, or stepping on the endless array of skitter mice punctuating my floors. And I take credit for converting the other human in my house, who thought he was a dog person and has since (mostly) been convinced otherwise.
So Sea-Meow, which I keep wanting to call Cat-Con as it’s more fun, was my people, even though I’ve never worn a tail or an “Introverted but willing to discuss cats” T-shirt, both of which could be spotted in the exhibition hall aisles. And while there were a few people at the convention in full Jellicle Ball drag, most just looked like a regular cross-section of humanity, maybe with slightly more cat-themed accessories than average. Cats were welcome at Sea-Meow (assuming they were appropriately harnessed/leashed or carrier’d, and well-behaved), but I only saw a handful; each of them a feline exercise in chill, even the pair wearing matching pale-blue turtlenecks. (No, I did not attempt to bring my cat, as I couldn’t imagine that particular story ending well.)