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They Know More Than We Think They Know
It’s become an almost daily ritual around our house. When I have answered the last email for the day, right around 5 p.m. usually, I push away from the laptop and take my cats, Bravo and Charlie, outside for some yard time.
I am told animals have no sense of time. Yet, on most days, I will feel the tap of a paw on my leg around 4:30 or 4:45. It is always Bravo, and he has an expectant look on his face. “Is it outside time?” He knows the hour of the day when he gets to put on his little harness and go outside. They hate the harnesses. The harnesses limit their running speed and prevent them from climbing, which is exactly what they are supposed to do. They also make them easier to spot as they prowl the yard and I do chores.
People are amazed when they see my cats in their little vests – green/orange for Bravo, pink/blue for Charlie. “If I tried to put that on my cat, he’d turn my arm into pulled pork.” But Bravo and Charlie accept their “jackets” as the price for outside time. They growl a bit, sometimes hiss, but never scratch or bite when I put them on.
Very often, we’re joined outside by the strong, independent stray cat who decided our home was the best place to birth her babies. Now that they’re grown, she hisses at them. Unsuitable as a house cat, she prowls the yard and comes into the basement when it is wet or cold.
I wonder whether what they experience outside is happiness, or something like it. It’s evidently very important to them to go outside. And they have learned that the neighbor’s yard and especially the street are off-limits. If I see Bravo going where he shouldn’t be going, I need only say, “I see you, buddy.” More often than not, he meanders back into the yard. “I’m coming back, but only because I choose to,” seems to be the attitude. Or am I reading too much into it?
Perhaps they do know, from the light of the day, when they can go outside. Being outside fulfills a longing, and maybe it’s similar to happiness for them. There must be some kind of cognition at work telling them where they are supposed to be and where not.
Cats really are the best thing about this world.
I cannot wait to take them out into the snow.
Where we last had cats the fact that most of the neighbors had dogs kept our cats from wandering out of our yard. There were no physical fences, but the dogs all were contained by electric fences.
One of the cats was an actual hunter (small rodents), so she relived her ancient lion ancestry stalking through the grass, especially the part of the yard I didn’t mow. She however did not live long.
The other cat sometimes pretended to hunt, but was really too lazy and well fed (and thus fat) to actually catch anything. But the many birds that built nests in our shrubbery didn’t know that, so each year during the time the parent birds were teaching the young to fly, we had to keep her inside or else the parent birds would attack her incessantly. She lived to a very old age.
Loved cats as a kid. Now into dogs. Ours does the same thing re: time to go out. Yucking it up with CTLaw and others on the Monday chat show and 30 minutes later she is down with the leash for the pre dinner walk. Would not let me put a harness on her but no problem with the leash. Lunch promptly at 11:30 and dinner at 5:45. They do know a routine.
Oh, cats definitely know when it’s feeding time.
We have an automated cat feeder that operates by a programmable clock. I believe I have it programmed for twice as day now. She knows when it’s about time for food to come out.
She also can tell, presumably by changes in the pitch of the mechanism, when the feeder is running low on food, so starts making a fuss about it, drawing our attention to the feeder a few days in advance of when the feeder bin runs out.
So cats may be smarter? Not arguing; just curious. One problem with ours is that she is so spoiled she wants to get hand fed at dinner until she approves of the stuff I have lined up: steak, fish, etc. She doesn’t do dog food. But vet says she is ok health wise if a little fat for a Maltese mix.
Sometimes Penny wants to draw our attention to the fact that her dish is almost empty, except for a few bits of kibble that are under the spout of the feeder where they are a little harder to reach. She is fully capable of reaching those when she wants to, but she prefers someone to rotate the dish for her so she get at them more easily.
RT. More confirmation dogs are easier. Except for cleaning up their crap on the sidewalk. Cats definitely better there. But will cats bark when unknowns near your door? Ours is a cheap burglar alarm.
Bravo and Charlie look quite smashing in their outfits.
Two questions: How old are they? And were they litter mates?
They are fourteen months old. They were litter mates born inside a sofa. Alpha and Tango were adopted by a lady who owns a shop and are shop kitties now.
As I mentioned, Mama cat still hangs around.
Good shot. And they don’t bark. So they have that going for them.
😻😻😻
It’s so nice to see a personal story from you, VTK! The cats are adorable and you’ve shared a sweet story. Thanks.
It’s true what they say: “dogs have masters, cats have staff.” One of ours, “Cat,” had chosen my brother as his chief of staff, and knew what time he should wake up, with amazing accuracy & dependability. One morning brother decided to see what would happen if he didn’t wake up as directed. After the regular nudges, Cat sat on his chest, and seemed to have stopped trying. My brother opened one eye just a bit, in time to see Cat cocking a paw for a solid swipe at his nose. That was the last time my brother challenged Cat’s authority.
A couple months ago I saw a cheetah demonstration at the Lincoln, NE Children’s Zoo. They’re fast, alright. After the burst of speed, chasing a ball being pulled by a cable, she picked up the ball and started playing with it like a kitten with a ball of yarn. A zookeeper came over with treats, and the cat joined him, and commenced to do things like you see well – trained dogs do in obedience school. After a minute or so, the cheetah sat, turned her attention toward a patch of shade in the corner of the run, ignoring the treats. She turned and sauntered to the shade, and lay down. The announcer said, well, she knows all these “tricks,” but she only does them when she wants to. Right now she’s more interested in the shade. After a minute or so, she got up, sauntered back to the man with the treats, and resumed as if nothing had happened.
I have always had a preference for marmalade cats, but I love our brown alley cats.
Years ago I read an account of a homeowner hearing a commotion in his garage. He opened the door to see a screaming intruder, the family cat, firmly attached to the man’s back, sinking his teeth into the man’s neck. The cat hopped down as the bloodied miscreant reached an open door, and sauntered back inside as if nothing had happened.
The family dog was there, too – sitting on the step, quietly watching the entire show.
Dog: “Cat’s playing rough with the toys, again”.
Used to have a cat that would wake me up at about 6:00 a.m. every morning for feeding time. Except on weekends, when he’d let me sleep in. Somehow, he knew the difference. I’m not sure how he knew, as I never tried to train him on that.
He really struggled with the concept of the three-day weekend, though.
Cats don’t need to bark, or even meow. They get right to business.
And, the only people who think cats are stupid have never spent any significant time with them.