How a UFO Documentary Inspired a Pallas Cat Tee

As a longtime UFO enthusiast, I first learned about The Age of Disclosure when Dan Farah was invited onto Real Time with Bill Maher to talk about the documentary. The conversation immediately caught my attention, not because it was sensational, but because it was measured, thoughtful, and serious in a way this topic rarely gets treated.

That tone carried through when I watched the documentary.

The Age of Disclosure doesn’t try to convince you of anything. Instead, it creates space for difficult questions, about transparency, unexplained phenomena, and what we may or may not understand about the world beyond our own. Farah lets the subject breathe, trusting the audience to sit with uncertainty rather than rushing toward conclusions. As someone who has followed this topic for years, I found that approach refreshing.

And interestingly, the feeling the documentary left me with was one I already knew well. At the time, I was already working on expanding our Pallas Cat Collection. As an advocate for the wild small cat, I'm always thinking about thoughtful ways to bring awareness to their existence and protection, without turning them into a novelty.

Watching The Age of Disclosure became an unexpected source of inspiration. Not because it was about UFOs alone, but because of the way it approached curiosity, restraint, and the unknown. That tone felt surprisingly aligned with how I see the Pallas cat: observant, ancient, and quietly aware.

That overlap led to the Pallas Cat and UFO design, a nod to the documentary, yes, but also to my ongoing advocacy for this remarkable species. The design wasn’t meant as a joke or a gimmick. It was a visual expression of curiosity paired with responsibility, and a way to connect wonder with conservation.

And woven into all of this is my senior ginger cat, Petey.

Petey is part feral, deeply opinionated, and has a habit of staring into the distance as if he’s tracking invisible frequencies. Some mornings he sits completely still, ears slightly angled, eyes locked on absolutely nothing I can see. In those moments, it’s hard not to notice the resemblance.

He channels the same grumpy, unimpressed energy as the Pallas cat, so much so that I sometimes refer to him as Petey Pallas.

He carries that “I’m not impressed, but I am aware” demeanor effortlessly. Grumpy without being mean. Wise without trying. Completely uninterested in explaining himself. Watching him is a daily reminder that not everything meaningful needs to be loud or performative.

When I watched The Age of Disclosure, Petey was asleep nearby, paws tucked, face set in his usual expression of mild disapproval. And I couldn’t help noticing the parallel, here I was, absorbing a documentary about hidden truths and unanswered questions, while living with a cat who embodies quiet mystery every single day.

Petey doesn’t announce himself.
He doesn’t overshare.
He simply knows things.

Honestly, if cats turned out to be quietly aware of non-human intelligence this whole time, I wouldn’t be shocked. Petey would just blink slowly and go back to his nap.

For me, this is where it all connects, the documentary, the Pallas cat, the design, and Petey. They all point to the same truth: curiosity isn’t foolish. It’s ancient. It’s instinctual. And sometimes, it’s quietly sitting beside you, judging the universe from the couch.

I’d love to hear how you think about the question of whether we’re alone in the universe, not in terms of certainty, but curiosity. What makes you wonder? What gives you pause? Sometimes the most interesting part isn’t the answer, but the questions we’re willing to sit with together.