Turned oak around a tall sisal core, so a cat stretches up into it instead of down your sofa arm. It looks like something you picked, not something you put up with.

A real oak side table with a canvas sling stretched underneath. You get a surface for the lamp, the cat gets a den, nobody compromises.

A curved shelf that turns a bare wall into a climbing route, so the space a cat wants comes off the wall instead of the room.

Freestanding oak that holds your books and doubles as a staircase to the top shelf. Nothing to mount, nothing your landlord will clock.

A slim ledge that fixes to the glass and hands over the sunny spot they've been shoving your things off to reach.

A vented oak cabinet the box lives inside. It keeps the tracked litter in and, from across the room, passes for a console.

Dense foam under a soft shell, low enough to walk straight into and deep enough to vanish in. About the only bed on this list a cat rarely argues with.

A sculptural oak den that earns its keep as an object first and a cat house second. Shown here on its pedestal (sold separately); stand it where you'd put a sculpture and let the cat claim it.

A snug, escape-proof harness for supervised porch time and slow laps of the garden. The middle ground between an indoor cat and a very loud one.