I never expected a disagreement about a cat to turn into such an uncomfortable situation with my roommate, but here we are. I have always loved animals, especially cats, and I genuinely believe that pets deserve a safe, loving home where they are treated like family. When my roommate mentioned that she was planning to get rid of her cat, I immediately felt concerned about what would happen to the poor animal. I assumed she would be happy if someone she already knew offered to take the cat and care for it. Instead, she told me that if I wanted the cat, I would have to pay her for it. I was surprised by the demand, especially because she had been talking about how much she wanted to get rid of the animal.

For some background, my roommate and I have been living together for a while. We are not best friends, but we generally get along well enough to share a living space without too many problems. We split our household expenses, respect each other’s privacy, and usually discuss important decisions before they affect the apartment. She adopted her cat some time ago, and although I was not the person responsible for the animal, I had become familiar with it through our daily routine. The cat would sometimes sit near me while I watched television or wander into the kitchen when I prepared food. Over time, I developed an attachment to it, even though I had never planned on becoming its owner.

Recently, my roommate started complaining about the responsibilities that came with having a cat. She said that feeding it, cleaning the litter box, and making arrangements whenever she wanted to go somewhere had become exhausting. She also mentioned that she wanted more freedom and did not want to keep worrying about taking care of a pet. I listened to her complaints because I understood that owning an animal required time, money, and commitment. I suggested that perhaps she could adjust her routine or look into different ways to make caring for the cat easier. However, she seemed determined that she no longer wanted the responsibility and began talking about finding someone else to take the animal.

When she first told me she wanted to get rid of the cat, I immediately considered offering to adopt it myself. Since we already lived together, I knew the cat’s personality and habits, and I believed I could provide a stable home. I also thought it would be less stressful for the animal to remain in a familiar environment rather than being sent to a completely new home. I brought up the idea casually and asked whether she would be comfortable with me taking over responsibility for the cat. I made it clear that I would handle the food, litter, veterinary care, and other expenses going forward. I thought this would be a straightforward solution that would benefit both my roommate and the animal.

Instead of immediately agreeing, my roommate told me that I would have to pay her if I wanted the cat. I asked her what she meant because I had assumed she would simply be relieved to find someone willing to take responsibility. She explained that she had spent money adopting the cat and buying supplies, and she believed she deserved compensation for giving it up. I understood that she might have spent money on the animal, but I was confused about why she expected me to pay her when she had repeatedly said she no longer wanted it. I was not asking her to purchase another pet for me. I was offering to take responsibility for an animal she had already decided she did not want to keep.

I told her that I was willing to take the cat and cover its future expenses, but I was not comfortable paying her simply to accept responsibility for it. I explained that I would need to budget for food, litter, routine veterinary visits, and any unexpected medical problems. Those expenses would become my responsibility as soon as I adopted the cat. My roommate responded that she was not asking for an unreasonable amount and that the cat had value. She seemed offended that I questioned her request, as though refusing to pay meant I did not care about the animal. I tried to explain that my willingness to provide a home was genuine, but I did not believe I owed her money just because she had changed her mind about owning a pet.

The conversation quickly became tense. My roommate accused me of trying to take advantage of her and suggested that I wanted the cat for free because I knew she was desperate to get rid of it. I was shocked by that accusation because I had never pressured her to give up the animal. She was the one who had repeatedly complained about the responsibility and said she wanted someone else to take it. I was simply offering a solution that would prevent the cat from being passed around between strangers or ending up in an unsuitable home. I told her that if she genuinely wanted to recover some of the money she had spent, she could explain that, but I did not appreciate being treated as though I was doing something wrong by declining an unexpected payment demand.

Since then, things have been awkward between us. My roommate has continued making comments about how people expect to get pets without paying for them, and I suspect she is referring to me whenever she brings up the subject. I have considered whether I should offer a small amount just to keep the peace, but part of me worries that doing so would encourage her to treat the situation as a sale rather than a transfer of responsibility. I also do not want to adopt an animal under pressure and then discover that we have different expectations about the arrangement. My main concern is the cat’s welfare, and I want to make sure that whoever takes it is genuinely prepared to care for it. If I do adopt it, I want the decision to be based on the animal’s needs rather than an argument about money.

Now I am wondering whether I am being unreasonable for refusing to pay my roommate for a cat she no longer wants. On one hand, I understand that she may have spent money on adoption fees, supplies, and caring for the animal, and I am not saying those expenses have no value. On the other hand, I never asked her to give me the cat, and I did not promise to reimburse her for the money she had already spent. I offered to take full responsibility for the cat’s future care because I wanted to give it a stable home. I am willing to spend money on its needs, but I do not feel obligated to pay my roommate simply because she wants compensation for giving up a responsibility she no longer wants. AITA for refusing to pay my roommate for her unwanted cat, even though I am willing to adopt it and cover all its future expenses?

Read Story…

If you want the cat that I’m getting rid of you will have to pay me for it

This happened a few weeks ago but I’ve just discovered this community so I thought I’d post it.

CB – choosing beggar Me – (myself…..) I think that might be obvious, lol.

So I was browsing an online local marketplace (gumtree) looking in the pet section for a rabbit hutch. I was scrolling down the pet section when I saw a picture of a frail looking black cat with the title “need gone ASAP moving”

I couldn’t ignore this despite not looking for a cat, there have been so many horror stories about people picking up free cats from gumtree to use as bait in dog fights. I clicked on the picture and the listing said something along the lines of “10 year old female cat free to a good home. Moving in 5 days and can’t take it with me.”

They had a phone number on the website so I quickly composed a text, they responded pretty much instantly and the exchange went something like this:

Me: “Hi, I was wondering if anybody has taken in your cat? If they haven’t, I am able to provide her with a good home”

CB- “no they have not and we are moving in 5 days”

(Blunt reply I thought, no questions or response to me having the cat)

Me- “Ok, well I could come and get her this evening or I could wait until moving day if you wanted some more time with her. It’s up to you. She will have a nice life here, I have another elderly black cat she can play with. What food is she on?”

CB- “Come get it tonight inserts address it doesn’t eat cat food we just feed it chicken and things”

Me- “Ok see you around 5pm if that’s ok? Is she up to date with flea/worm treatment and vaccinations?

CB- “yes 5pm and yes it is.”

Me- “Ok see you then”

About 3 hours go past and I get a text from her. Baring in mind this cat was listed as “free to a good home” and the fact that cats (at least in the U.K.) usually don’t sell unless they’re a designer breed as there are so many unwanted strays already. Kittens can make £30-£50 but cats, nothing usually.

CB- “make sure you bring the correct amount of money I don’t have change”

Me- “The cat was listed as free to a good home, how much do you want for the cat?

I wasn’t looking to get another cat to be honest, I just saw your listing and thought she was in need so I offered her a home”

CB- “I want £45 because that’s how much I paid for its donation fee when I adopted it in 2013. Got someone else interested that is going to pay it”

Me- “I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking to buy a cat. I think we have our wires crossed.

I was concerned about the cat not having a home because you’re moving so I offered her a place. I’m not actually looking to purchase another cat but I was willing to give a home to one that was in need. If your cats not in need then it’s best you give it to the other person so I can keep my eye out for animals that urgently need a home”

CB doesn’t reply for an hour or so even though our text exchanges are usually instant.

CB- “The cat is getting put to sleep then this in the U.K. means euthanatised other person changed their mind and no rescue will take it because it’s age”

Me- “You dont need to get her put to sleep, I will have her”

CB- “But I get nothing and you get my cat”

Me- “Because you said you can’t take her, surely it’s best she goes to a loving home rather than be killed? Plus you will have to pay to get her put to sleep so you will be out of pocket”

CB- “No I don’t have to pay because the PDSA are doing it so it is free I’ve just made an appointment for tomorrow”

PDSA are a U.K. charity that provides basically free vet care to those on government support in exchange for a donation

At this point I was getting fed up and I just decided that I would pay the money as I was fed up with the back and forth and I didn’t want her to actually euthanise the cat.

Me- “I have the money so please cancel the appointment I will be there at 5pm like we agreed”

CB- “ok”

I turn up to their home at 5pm on the dot, I’ve brought a cat carrier with me as I’m not expecting she will come with anything. I’m greeted by a rough looking woman in a house that smells like weed and has no carpets, just bare stained floor. The walls were yellow from nicotine and there was a punch mark in the living room door. I can hear dogs barking from the garden.

Despite this, I’m polite and I’m led in to the living room were the cat is asleep on the sofa. There is a cat bed in the corner which has a mother cat in feeding about 6-7 tiny baby kittens. I sit down to stroke her during which I see 2 more cats stroll in the living room, one obviously heavily pregnant (although these cats seem a lot younger and healthier than the one I was taking) I thought it was odd as she said she was moving in 5 days but there was no evidence of packing and there was several paint pots that had been tested on the wall as if they were in the process of redecorating.

Anyway, I paid £50 (I only had 2 £20 notes and a £10 so I just gave her that) she then had the audacity to ask me if myself or anyone I knew would be interested in a kitten for £60.

I said no, I scooped up the cat and got the hell out of there.

I realised in the car that the cat was infested with fleas. I didn’t know what to do but I have 3 small children so I couldn’t risk a flea infestation in our house. Instead I put her in the summer house in the garden (which has a sofa, pillows, blankets etc in) and let her spend the night in there.

In the morning I took her out and have since completely fumigated it.

I took her to the vet who treated her for a number of problems including: -Fleas -Worms -Severe malnutrition (she weighed half of what she should) -Burn marks on her belly which the vet described as looking like they were done with a cigarette -A severe heart murmur -Overbreeding (the vet said it was apparent that she had been used a significant amount of times to have kittens)

The vet also told me the cat wasn’t 10 and was about 17. The vet took the details of the woman who I got her from as he said he was going to report her as he’d never seen a cat in this bad of a shape.

A hefty vets bill later and we were both home. She loves her new life here and has really come out of her shell, she loves her cat friend. I don’t know how long she has left as the heart murmur is pretty bad (the vet said it wouldn’t have got to this stage if it was detected and operated on much sooner) but for now she is loving life.

A happy ending to this story about a POS CB.

When Adopting My Roommate’s Unwanted Cat Turned Into a Money Dispute

I never expected that a simple conversation about adopting a cat would turn into a major argument with my roommate, but that is exactly what happened. I have always loved animals, especially cats, and I have always believed that pets deserve a safe, loving home where they can spend the rest of their lives without being treated as disposable possessions. I was not actively looking to adopt another pet at the time, but when I learned that my roommate wanted to get rid of her cat, I immediately felt concerned about what would happen to the animal. I thought I was offering a reasonable solution that would benefit everyone involved. Instead, my roommate turned the situation into a financial dispute that I still cannot believe happened.

My roommate and I had been living together for a while, and although we were not best friends, our relationship was generally friendly. We shared an apartment, divided the household bills, and tried to respect each other’s personal space. She had a cat that she had owned before we moved in together. The cat was an older animal who mostly kept to herself, spending much of the day sleeping near the window or curling up on the couch. She was not particularly demanding, and I had grown fond of her over time. Whenever my roommate was busy or away from home, I occasionally helped with feeding the cat or making sure she had fresh water. I never considered it a burden because I genuinely enjoyed being around her.

At first, my roommate seemed to care about her cat, although I gradually noticed that she was becoming less interested in taking responsibility for her. She complained about having to clean the litter box, buy food, and arrange care whenever she wanted to travel. Whenever the cat scratched furniture or left fur on the couch, my roommate would become irritated and talk about how difficult it was to own a pet. I understood that pets required time, money, and patience, but I also believed those responsibilities came with the decision to bring an animal into your life. I never confronted her about these complaints because I assumed she was simply having a stressful week and would eventually feel better.

Things changed one evening when I came home from work and found my roommate sitting in the living room, scrolling through her phone. The cat was sleeping beside her, completely unaware of the conversation that was about to happen. My roommate casually mentioned that she was thinking about getting rid of the cat because she no longer wanted the responsibility. I initially thought she was exaggerating out of frustration, so I asked her what she meant. She explained that she was tired of spending money on food and supplies and wanted a simpler lifestyle without a pet.

I was surprised by how casually she discussed the possibility of giving away an animal she had owned for years. I asked whether something had happened or whether she was having trouble caring for the cat. She said there was no major problem; she was simply over it. According to her, owning a cat had become inconvenient, and she did not want to keep spending her money on something that was no longer enjoyable for her. I tried to explain that the cat was an older animal who had already become accustomed to her home and routine. Finding another home could be stressful for her, especially if she ended up with someone who was not prepared to care for an older pet.

My roommate shrugged and said that someone else could take care of the cat. She did not seem particularly concerned about where the animal would end up, as long as she no longer had to deal with her responsibilities. That bothered me more than I wanted to admit. I knew that people sometimes had legitimate reasons for rehoming pets, including financial difficulties, housing restrictions, allergies, or serious changes in circumstances. However, my roommate had not described any emergency. She simply seemed tired of being responsible for another living creature.

After thinking about it for a moment, I offered to take the cat myself. I already knew her personality, understood her usual routine, and felt comfortable caring for her. Since we were already living together, the transition would not require moving her into a completely unfamiliar environment immediately. I told my roommate that I could become the cat’s primary owner and take responsibility for her food, litter, routine care, and any future veterinary expenses. I was not offering to help temporarily while my roommate took a break. I was offering to take over responsibility for the cat permanently.

My roommate initially looked relieved. She said that would solve her problem because she would no longer have to worry about buying supplies or cleaning up after the animal. I explained that I was serious about the offer and would make sure the cat continued receiving proper care. I also mentioned that we should discuss the practical details, including the cat’s veterinary records, current food, and anything else I needed to know. I assumed we were having a straightforward conversation about transferring responsibility for a pet.

Then my roommate suddenly said that I would have to pay her for the cat.

At first, I genuinely thought I had misunderstood her. I asked what she meant, and she explained that she had originally paid money to adopt or obtain the cat and had also spent money on food, toys, bedding, and other supplies over the years. She believed I should compensate her for those expenses if I wanted to take the cat. She made it sound as though I were purchasing a valuable possession from her rather than offering to take responsibility for an animal she no longer wanted.

I pointed out that she had been the cat’s owner for years and that the money she had spent on food and supplies was part of the cost of caring for her own pet. Those expenses had already served their purpose. She had provided the cat with food, shelter, and other necessities while she owned her, and now she wanted to stop being responsible for her. I was willing to take over all future expenses, but I did not understand why I should also pay her for the privilege of accepting a responsibility she was trying to give up.

My roommate immediately became defensive. She said I was acting as though the cat had no value and that I was trying to take advantage of her generosity. According to her, she had spent years caring for the animal, and it was unfair that I should get to have the cat without paying anything. I reminded her that I was not asking her to give me money, reimburse me for past expenses, or provide free supplies. I was offering to take the cat and cover the costs from that point forward. If she wanted someone else to adopt the animal, she was welcome to look for another suitable home.

She did not appreciate that response. She argued that because I wanted the cat, I should be willing to pay something for her. I explained that I wanted the cat because I cared about her well-being, not because I was looking for an inexpensive way to acquire a pet. I was not shopping for a particular breed or trying to obtain an animal with a resale value. I simply did not want an older cat to end up somewhere unsafe because her current owner had become bored with the responsibility.

The conversation became increasingly uncomfortable because my roommate kept returning to the money she had spent over the years. She mentioned the original cost of the cat, the price of different toys, the food she had purchased, and even the money she had spent on a cat bed. I told her I understood that pet ownership involved expenses, but those were expenses she had chosen to take on when she decided to own a cat. I could not reasonably be expected to reimburse her for every purchase she had made throughout the animal’s life.

I also explained that adopting the cat would create new financial responsibilities for me. I would need to budget for food, litter, routine veterinary appointments, vaccinations if needed, and unexpected medical treatment. Because the cat was older, I understood that her health needs could become more complicated over time. I was prepared to accept those responsibilities, but I needed to make sure I could afford them. Paying my roommate an additional amount simply because she had once owned the cat would reduce the money I could set aside for the animal’s future care.

My roommate responded that I was making the situation unnecessarily complicated. She said the amount she wanted was not unreasonable and that I should be grateful she was willing to let me have the cat. I asked her how much she expected me to pay, hoping that perhaps we could at least understand what she was asking for. When she gave me the amount, I was even more confused. It was not simply a small contribution toward the cat’s remaining supplies. She wanted enough money to recover a substantial portion of what she believed she had spent on the animal.

I told her respectfully that I would not pay that amount. I was willing to discuss taking over the cat’s existing supplies if that made the transition easier, but I would not reimburse her for years of ordinary pet expenses. I also made it clear that I did not want the situation to become a bargaining contest in which the cat’s future depended on how much money I was prepared to hand over. The animal deserved a stable home, and I wanted us to make a decision based on her welfare rather than on my roommate’s desire to recover money.

That was when my roommate accused me of being selfish. She said I wanted to make myself look like a hero by taking the cat while refusing to acknowledge everything she had done for her. She also suggested that I was trying to make her feel guilty for deciding that pet ownership was no longer right for her. I told her that I was not judging her for admitting that she did not want to care for the cat anymore. If she genuinely felt unable to provide a good home, finding a responsible adopter could be the right decision. What I objected to was the idea that I should pay her a large amount of money to solve a problem she had brought to me herself.

I tried to keep my voice calm because I did not want the disagreement to turn into a shouting match. I explained that I was offering a practical solution that would allow the cat to remain in a familiar environment, at least initially, while removing the responsibility from my roommate. I would pay for the food, clean the litter box, arrange veterinary care, and make sure the cat had everything she needed. My roommate would no longer need to spend money on her or organize her daily care. I honestly thought those benefits would be enough to make the arrangement attractive.

Instead, she told me that if I would not pay, she would find someone else to take the cat. I reminded her that she should make sure any new owner was trustworthy and prepared to care for an older animal. I even suggested that she contact a reputable rescue organization if she could not find a suitable adopter herself. I did not want to pressure her into giving me the cat if she genuinely preferred another arrangement. However, I also did not want to hand over money simply because she was using the cat’s uncertain future to make me feel obligated.

Over the next few days, the atmosphere in our apartment became tense. My roommate barely spoke to me unless she needed something, and when she did, her tone was noticeably colder than usual. I continued treating the cat normally, making sure she had water and giving her attention whenever she approached me. I found it difficult to look at her without worrying about what would happen if my roommate decided to rehome her quickly. The cat had no understanding of the disagreement. She was simply living her life, sleeping in her favorite spots and expecting the people around her to provide the care she needed.

I considered offering a smaller amount of money just to end the argument, but the more I thought about it, the less comfortable I felt with that idea. It was not really about whether I could afford to pay a little extra. It was about the principle of the situation and the possibility that agreeing would encourage my roommate to treat the cat as a way to recover her past expenses. I also worried that if money became the central issue, we might end up arguing about every item she had purchased or every expense she believed I should cover.

I discussed the situation with a friend who also owned cats. My friend understood why I was upset but reminded me that there was another side to consider. My roommate had originally paid to obtain the cat, and depending on the circumstances, she might feel that transferring ownership should involve some kind of payment. My friend also pointed out that some responsible rehoming arrangements include adoption fees to discourage people who might take animals without being prepared to care for them. I agreed that reasonable adoption fees could serve a useful purpose in the right circumstances, especially when they went toward an animal’s care or helped a rescue organization.

However, my roommate was not a rescue organization trying to protect an animal through a carefully managed adoption process. She was someone who had decided she no longer wanted her pet and was asking me to reimburse her for expenses from years of ownership. I was not opposed to paying for the cat’s future needs, buying her remaining supplies, or contributing toward legitimate veterinary costs that had not yet been settled. I simply did not think I should have to pay my roommate a substantial sum for taking over a responsibility she wanted to abandon.

Eventually, my roommate told another person about our disagreement, and the story somehow reached a mutual acquaintance. According to what I heard, she described me as someone who had offered to take her cat but then refused to pay a fair price. She left out the part about wanting to get rid of the animal because she was tired of the responsibility. When the acquaintance asked me about it, I explained my side without trying to turn the situation into a campaign against my roommate. I said I was willing to adopt the cat and cover future expenses, but I did not agree with reimbursing years of ordinary ownership costs.

The acquaintance seemed to understand my perspective, although they suggested that I could have handled the conversation more gently. That made me wonder whether my frustration had affected the way I spoke to my roommate. Perhaps I could have asked more questions before assuming that her request was unreasonable. Maybe she felt emotionally attached to the cat despite no longer wanting the daily responsibility, or perhaps she was worried about the money she had already spent. I could acknowledge those possibilities without agreeing that I owed her the amount she demanded.

What bothered me most was that the cat’s welfare seemed to have become secondary to the argument. Neither of us was talking much about what arrangement would be best for her. We were arguing over whether my offer should come with a payment, and I hated that an animal who had done nothing wrong was caught in the middle. I did not want the cat to become a bargaining chip, and I certainly did not want to make a decision based on anger alone.

I eventually told my roommate that my offer remained open, provided we could agree on a reasonable transfer of responsibility. I would take over the cat’s daily care and future expenses, and we could discuss transferring her veterinary records and any supplies that were useful. I would not pay her a large amount simply to compensate her for past ownership costs. If she decided she wanted to pursue another responsible adopter instead, I would not stop her, although I hoped she would take the time to make sure the person was suitable.

My roommate did not immediately accept the offer. She continued insisting that I was undervaluing the cat and refusing to recognize what she had invested in her. I told her that I valued the cat enough to be willing to take on years of future responsibility, including the possibility of expensive veterinary treatment as she grew older. To me, that was a meaningful commitment. I was not trying to get something for nothing. I was offering to provide a home for an animal whose current owner had said she no longer wanted to keep.

Looking back, I still feel that my position was reasonable, but I can understand why the situation might look different to someone who focuses only on the question of whether an owner can ask for money when rehoming a pet. People are allowed to place reasonable adoption fees on animals, and no one should assume that an animal has no value simply because its owner wants to find another home. At the same time, there is a difference between a reasonable adoption fee and demanding reimbursement for every expense incurred over years of pet ownership. Context matters, and in this case, my roommate had approached me because she wanted to stop caring for the cat.

I also recognize that offering to adopt an animal is a serious commitment, not an opportunity to win an argument. If I eventually take the cat, I will need to make sure that I can provide everything she needs, regardless of how my roommate behaves. I cannot let frustration with another person become the reason I make an impulsive decision about a living creature. I want the cat to have a safe home, consistent care, and a peaceful environment. Those things matter much more than proving that I was right during a disagreement.

Still, I do not believe that refusing to pay my roommate the amount she demanded makes me selfish or unreasonable. I offered to remove the responsibility from her hands and take on the future costs myself. I did not promise to reimburse her for the past, and I never agreed that her previous spending created a debt I was obligated to pay. If she wants to find another adopter, that is her decision, but I believe the priority should be finding someone who genuinely wants and can care for the cat.

So now I am wondering whether I was too stubborn about the money or whether my roommate was being unreasonable by expecting compensation for a pet she no longer wanted. I understand that pets cost money and that rehoming decisions can be emotional, but I do not think offering a loving home should automatically mean agreeing to pay whatever the previous owner demands. I was prepared to take responsibility for the cat’s future, and I thought that was the most important part of the arrangement.

So, Reddit, am I wrong for refusing to pay my roommate for a cat she no longer wanted, even though I was willing to adopt her and cover all future expenses?