There are days at work that follow the usual rhythm: budgets, timelines, reasons why something “can’t be done.”
Then there are days that remind you why you’re really here. One of those days was the day CATropa was approved.
I found myself explaining—even defending—why a utility company should care about cats. On paper, it sounds absurd. Power lines. Transformers. Kilowatts. And cats.
But if you spend time at Meralco, you quickly learn that what we do isn’t just about electricity. It’s about malasakit—care, responsibility, the quietly persistent kind that threads through everything we do.
CATropa shows that care in the unremarkable corners of our sites: parking lots, substations, service areas. Cats live there alongside us, quietly, persistently, as they always have.
I remembered walking through the entire compound, exploring every corner. Some strays cowered, unsure of us. Then I noticed one cat, curled inside a cardboard box, eyes half-closed, perfectly content. In that moment, it struck me: while it would be a dream come true to have beautiful catios and pawdestrian lanes, none of that would matter without culture. What truly matters is a shift in perspective—a way of understanding responsibility that starts with care.
People often ask about cost.
Cat food and veterinary fees are the easy parts. The real investment comes from our people.
Employees who feed, clean, and protect every day, without pay or applause. Who show up during holidays, typhoons, or pouring rain. No one told them to. No KPI demanded it.
They simply cared.
And that’s a kind of commitment no spreadsheet can measure.
CATropa gives back in ways a program never could.
It lets us practice malasakit daily, where we work. To spread the light—not just to customers or colleagues, but to animals who didn’t ask to be here, and are here all the same.
It gives us culture.
A culture that understands empathy doesn’t need a business case. That responsibility doesn’t stop at humans. That service, once practiced, spills into every corner of life.
It also reminds us why companies like Meralco endure. Because they exist within communities, not above them. Care flows both ways—between people, between people and animals, between the company and the world it serves.
Why animal welfare? Why cats?
Here’s a fact that often stops the room: Sixty four percent of Filipino households have pets. In our own survey, nearly seventy percent of our employees do. If that’s our reality, the conclusion is simple. Programs that matter to animals also matter to our people.
So yes, we practice TNVR Trap, Neuter, Vaccinate, Return to humanely manage cats on site. But we go further: free spay and neuter programs, education campaigns, disaster relief, partnerships that spread care beyond our gates.
Because cats don’t just add. They multiply.
Responsible population management matters. But it was never the whole story.
CATropa was never meant to be just a program.
It’s a movement. A mission. A new way of seeing the world and then rediscovering the best in ourselves.
It multiplies human CATropas: volunteers, employees, suppliers, partners. People who start indifferent but discover malasakit when they see what’s possible.
That’s when something takes root.
Looking back, the real question wasn’t, “Why should we care about cats?” It was, “What kind of company do we want to be when no one is watching?”
At Meralco, the answer arrived without fanfare: in people who feed, clean, protect, and advocate, day after day, without being asked.
CATropa exists because malasakit exists. Because service doesn’t stay in job descriptions. It spills over—to the overlooked, to the living beings who share our spaces.
We distribute power. But we also shape culture. Culture is built not just by what a company delivers, but by what it chooses to care about when caring is optional.
That’s why an energy company cares about cats.
Because when malasakit becomes part of how we work, it strengthens everything we do.
And sometimes, all it takes is a cardboard box and a cat to remind us what really matters.
