I live with a big white Maine Coon named Casper. He looks like a snow cloud with paws. He’s sweet, stubborn, and so funny. And yes, he’s huge. If you’re wondering what it’s really like, here’s my honest take—good, tricky, and everything in between. I’ve also written more about the day-to-day surprises in life with a white Maine Coon over here. For anyone unfamiliar with the breed, this in-depth profile covers the Maine Coon’s origins, typical size, and personality.
Meet Casper (aka The Walking Pillow)
Casper is 18 pounds and almost 40 inches from nose to tail tip. People gasp when they see him. The long ear tufts, the lion ruff, the plumy tail—that tail could dust a shelf. He has one blue eye and one green eye. It’s striking. Strangers think he’s a small dog.
He chirps more than he meows. It’s this trilling sound, like a tiny bird who has opinions. He talks to moths. He talks to the fridge. He talks to me while I make coffee. It’s a lot, but it’s cute.
Personality: Gentle Giant, House Clown
He follows me room to room. If I sit, he sits. If I walk to the door, he beats me there. He’s friendly with guests but slow and polite, in his own cat way. He plays fetch with a crinkly ball. I toss it down the hallway. He trots back like a proud kid.
Real moment: during a Zoom call, he laid across my keyboard and typed “;;;;;;;;;;;;”. My boss laughed. I didn’t. But then I did.
He loves water. He pats his fountain with one paw and watches the ripples. I once found him with a wet head and zero shame. Bath day is weirdly fine.
The Coat: Gorgeous, But Let’s Be Real
White looks fancy. White also shows everything. A sneeze? You’ll see it. A ketchup smudge from my sandwich? I saw that too. I wipe his fur with a damp cloth if he gets a little spot. For greasy bits, I rub in a pinch of cornstarch, wait, then comb it out. Works like a charm.
Mats show up behind the ears, in armpits, and on the back legs. I use an Andis steel comb first, then a Chris Christensen slicker for fluff. Five to ten minutes a day keeps him smooth. If I skip two days, he tattles on me with tangles.
Winter brings static. I run a humidifier and touch a metal lamp before I pet him. In summer, I watch his pink ears and nose by sunny windows. White cats can burn, so I limit long naps in hard sun. Simple curtains help a lot.
Health Stuff I Actually Did
I learned about a few breed things from my vet. So I got checks:
- Heart check (HCM screen): Casper had a cardio exam and an echo at 1 year. We repeat each year. It gives me peace.
- Hips: our vet watched his gait and did X-rays once. All good so far.
- Hearing: white cats with blue eyes can have hearing issues. We did a BAER test. He hears fine, but he’s a little slower to respond on his blue-eye side. It’s kind of cute.
If you ever need help locating a reputable feline cardiologist, groomer, or sitter, the directory at Pet Care Services can point you in the right direction. For a broad overview of potential breed-specific health issues, WebMD’s Maine Coon guide is a handy starting point.
We do dental cleanings when needed. I also keep pet insurance. Mine runs about $38 a month and has paid off once for a tummy scare. When winter rolls in, I keep an eye on sneezes because cats can catch colds too—our household learned that firsthand, and this helpful rundown walks through what to watch for.
Gear That Fit His Size (Because He’s… Big)
- Litter box: stainless jumbo box (iPrimio XL). High sides. No small top-entry box. His floof said no thanks.
- Litter: Dr. Elsey’s Ultra clumps well and doesn’t cling to his long fur like some softer litters.
- Carrier: I use a large dog crate for vet trips (Petmate Vari Kennel). He can turn around and breathe.
- Comb and slicker: steel comb daily, slicker for finish. I skip the Furminator on him; it pulled too much undercoat.
- Fountain: Casper likes the Catit flower fountain. He taps it like a tiny fisherman.
He eats more than my old tabby. Most days: two 3-ounce cans of wet food plus a small scoop of high-protein dry at night. I use a slow feeder bowl so he doesn’t scarf and, well, barf.
Shedding: The Snowfall That Never Ends
Fur floats like dandelion seeds. It sticks to black leggings like a magnet. I run a Levoit Core air purifier in the living room and vacuum every other day. A Scotch-Brite lint roller lives by the front door. Guests thank me.
When I brush daily, I get fewer tumbleweeds. When I don’t, my robot vacuum throws a fit and eats a fur ribbon. Learned that fast.
House Life: Kids, Dogs, and Zooms
Casper is patient with my niece. She learned “soft hands,” and he lets her pat his big paws. He did great with my neighbor’s calm Lab after slow door-sniff meets over two weeks. Seeing the two of them together reminded me of a friend’s tongue-in-cheek argument about why dogs are sometimes considered better roommates than cats, even if I’m firmly on Team Feline.
High energy dogs? I’d go slow and use baby gates. He likes rules.
He watches birds, not TV. He sits on the sofa arm like a snow lion and guards the block. Delivery drivers wave. I’m not kidding.
The Messy Bits I Didn’t Expect
- He opened the pantry once and chewed a bag of marshmallows. The bag survived. The marshmallows… didn’t.
- With long pants (that’s what I call his back leg fur), he sometimes gets litter stuck. I did a tiny “booty trim” with round-tip scissors. Zero shame. Big help.
- He knocked a water glass off my nightstand at 3 a.m. Then chirped like, “We both saw gravity.”
Costs and Time, For Real
- Food: $60–$90 a month, depending on sales.
- Litter: about $25 a month.
- Vet and tests: varies, but the heart echo ran a few hundred.
- Insurance: around $38 a month for me.
- Time: 10 minutes a day for brushing and a quick wipe of the fountain. Playtime after dinner.
It’s not cheap. He’s worth it. But it’s not nothing.
Things I Wish I Knew Sooner
- Big cat, big box. I should’ve bought the jumbo from day one.
- Keep baby wipes for paws and little stains on white fur.
- Humidifier for winter. Static shocks ruin the vibe.
- Close cabinets. He learned handles in a week.
- Training matters. He sits for treats. Yes, a cat that sits.
Who Should Get a White Maine Coon?
Get one if you want a social cat who acts a bit like a dog and a bit like a cloud. Someone home a lot will love this. Families can do great if the house is calm and respectful. If you travel non-stop, or if cat hair makes you crazy, think hard. This is a lot of fluff and a lot of love.
Even though I’m mostly a homebody, I still like to schedule the occasional adults-only weekend getaway. Brittany, for instance, has a surprisingly lively libertine scene; before my last trip I researched the region’s discreet venues on this detailed roundup of sex clubs in Brittany which breaks down ambiance, dress codes, and etiquette so you can pick the right spot and focus on enjoying your night out. Closer to home, there are nights when a quick dose of spontaneous chemistry sounds fun; if I'm anywhere near South Jersey, Glassboro hookups makes it simple to browse local meetup spots and connect with like-minded adults fast—saving me from endless swiping and letting me get right to the fun part.
My Verdict
Casper is the best kind of chaos. He’s warm and goofy and so very pretty. The white coat takes work. The size takes planning. But when he rests his giant head on my arm and chirps, I melt.
Would I choose a white Maine Coon again? You know what? Yes. I’d buy the jumbo litter box first, though. And a second lint roller. Just saying.