María Adánez's Siberian Cats: Allergy, Salt Baked Sea Bass, and an Unused Scratcher

María Adánez and her cats: allergy, salt-baked sea bass, and an unused scratcher

What happens when a house's cats stop being at man's service? Someone ends up buying a water fountain, a scratcher, and a bed that no one uses. Actress María Adánez, known for Here's No One Who Can Live and What's Coming, shared in an interview how she lives with her two Siberian cats despite being allergic. The conversation later turned into a dispute over who serves whom: in the debate, one participant argued that animals "are not at man's service" and that today it's the opposite, that people organize themselves around dogs and cats.

The cats are named Mari-Gaila and Séptimo, after characters in Divine Words by Valle-Inclán, a play Adánez performed at Madrid's María Guerrero Theatre when the first cat arrived. She arrived four years ago. Before that, as she recounts, she never had cats: an allergy shared with her partner had kept her away from them until another actress, Raquel Pérez, advised that Siberians cause less allergy than other breeds.

Why buy a Siberian cat if you're allergic?

Because they were recommended. The advice was specific: Siberians cause less allergy than other breeds, though "it will, but very little." With that margin, she acquired the animals through someone who delivers them for adoption or, if the buyer is allergic, sells them.

The adaptation wasn't immediate. Mari-Gaila spent her first days curled up in the bed they had bought. Everything changed one night when her partner prepared salt-baked sea bass: with the smell of the fish, the cat meowed for the first time and began to socialize. First the room, then the rest of the territory. Séptimo had a different script: he hid under the sofa and stayed there until he wanted to come out.

The first-time owner's expense: 300,000 things and an unused scratcher

The shopping list was that of any first-time parent, including a water fountain. The argument given by friends with cats is that felines drink little and get sick from kidney issues, and that they prefer moving water, not stagnant in a bowl. Hence the fountain. Bowls, a sleeping spot, and a scratcher also arrived.

Neither cat ever used the bed or the scratcher. The actress's comparison is exact: "like parents who buy 300,000 things and, in the end, only use one." At home, there are also two sleeping shifts: first the couple, then the cats, who occupy the bed in the morning. Mari-Gaila cuddles with them during the night; Séptimo is the one with nocturnal activity.

Who serves whom in a home with pets?

The phrase of discord precisely denies utility. An animal that doesn't work, doesn't guard, doesn't hunt, and doesn't produce anything becomes, in an economic reading, a sink of expense. The response from the other side is that the pet was never in the balance for what it brings, but for what is given to it.

Some argue that the relationship has completely inverted and that today people organize themselves around dogs and cats. The detail of running water—needing to see it flow—summarizes this hierarchy well. There was also someone who took the culinary matter as a joke: the salt-baked sea bass as a foundational sacrifice.

The clash with the natality narrative

Here, consensus broke. One part of the conversation argues that having children is the only relevant function of a life and that without offspring, one is nothing; it relies on evolution and biology to present this as an objective truth rather than an option. The most repeated response is that there are many other relevant things to do, and that people who don't reproduce are not necessarily failing or deceiving themselves.

The thread recalls, citing Wikipedia, that actress has a son.

From expense analysis to judgment on appearance

What started as a discussion about domestic service devolved, in a few responses, into the actress's physical appearance, her alleged overvaluation, and rumors about her professional and private life that are not supported by any evidence and are not reproduced here. The recurring joke paired felines with psychiatric medication, without a single piece of data behind it.

This diversion is what should be separated from the core. The core is something else: a home where water must flow, the bed is unused, and the scratcher remains intact.

The house remains the same. Two cats with no utilitarian function, a fountain that never stagnates, and a sea bass that did more for coexistence than all the purchased equipment. Service, exactly, the just amount.