Can the Desk Nest Keep My Cat Happy — And Off of My Keyboard?

When I unpacked the Desk Nest, I was pleasantly surprised by how sturdy the metal bracket and the clamp felt. Though the wood wasn’t solid, it didn’t have the fake, particleboard appearance I was braced for. It actually looked like it could pass for vintage mid-century modern (if desk cat beds had been a thing back then, which I seriously doubt).

On the right edge of my desk, I found a free space for the bed; the clamp does require about 6 inches of clearance under the desktop. The actual installation didn’t take long, and the Desk Nest came with the necessary Allen wrench.

Just in case Bob wouldn’t immediately get the point of the bed, I sprinkled a little catnip on its cushion. He hopped right in, curled up, and went to sleep. For the next week, the Desk Nest became his primary daytime perch, and more than once, we’d wake up to discover he’d spent the night in it. Proof of concept established: Bob will deign to use a desk-mounted bed.

Because we couldn’t fully swallow the hefty price tag, Mel and I decided that I should also test one of the many, many variations on the theme from Amazon. (Mel bought, built, and tortured a handful of the best-reviewed dupes. Only one of them, the $50 Chloraeon, was sturdy enough to send along to me and Bob for further testing.)

I knew Bob’s expensive tastes were satisfied, but would he be willing to go for a budget-friendly option? I decided that the best way to assess which of the two beds Bob might prefer would be to set the second one up next to the first one; then I would simply observe which bed he ended up spending more time in. I installed the Chloraeon alongside the Desk Nest — same height, same dash of “starter” catnip, one third the price.

One month in, I’ve come to realize that leaving the decision up to Bob won’t work. It isn’t that Bob doesn’t like these beds. In fact he loves them both, very much. And as far as I can tell, there’s no predicting which one he’ll pick at any given moment. I’ve actually watched him snoozing in one bed, and then, after turning away for a moment, I’ve looked back to see him rising, stretching, and stepping across the gap to the other bed.

So if both beds pass the cat test, the human will just have to decide. (Which only seems fair, considering that the human is generally the one paying the credit card bills.)