MY SWEET SUGAR COOKIE Blue-eyed baby Back in September 2007, when we lived at the house before our current residence, I went out in the back yard one evening to take out the trash. I heard a small “meow.” I couldn’t tell exactly where it cane from, or whether it was far away or nearby. I stopped and listened and heard it again, but still couldn’t locate it.
Many years ago, one of my favorite cats, a Russian blue, decided to flee the abuse of our two other felines, and took off. After much searching and neighborhood notes, I figured the coyotes had gotten her. Then, about two years later I spotted her in a nearby front yard (she was distinctly gorgeous), stopped and rang the doorbell. The two young kids, outside with the cat, stood mute and bug-eyed. I explained to their mother that I believed this was the cat I had lost and been looking for. She practically cried and said, yes, the cat had arrived in their back yard and had taken up residence with them. She said she had seen my notes but just couldn’t break her kids’ hearts by giving back the cat. Well, I couldn’t break their hearts either and wished them and my former kitty all the best. After all, it was her choice.
I was never a 'cat person'. Not because I don't like cats. I'd just never had one or been around them much. When I met my wife nearly 3 decades ago, she had a large orange tabby named Max, a neighborhood stray she'd taken in. Actually, I think it was my future wife who was taken in. Max was a bit of a charmer. And a character. Loved dogs. Never missed an opportunity to accost one walking down the sidewalk with its owner in my wife's city neighborhood to try to instigate a bit of 'play', the dog's reactions being the source of many a laugh.
Too bad Max didn't live long enough to come to live under my roof when we married a few years later and my new wife moved in with me out here in 'the country'. I had a dog at the time, a rescued Shepherd / Lab / I Don't Know What mix. Max and Molly would have no doubt gotten on like a house a'fire. As evidenced by the fact that when my wife moved out here to the sticks, she came with, among the rest of her belongings, three more neighborhood feline rescues, all of which took one look at Molly and disappeared into the basement or any other safe haven they could find, since Molly instantly thought they were the greatest 'playthings' she'd ever seen.
To say that the ensuing years were interesting on the feline / canine front would be a bit of an understatement. But eventually an understanding was reached. I wouldn't exactly call it an outright peace treaty. More like a detent of sorts. But anyone who thinks a cold war couldn't be humorous hasn't seen one such as that one.
Thanks for the pictures. We are sitting here at vet with Molly for her 24 month, 16 mice check-up. She is not impressed and a wonderfully tabby. Soon, she may let me put her back in her travel case. Or not. Meow to Cookie.
Love the photo of the two of you! And the story. So glad to have Fabulous Feline Fridays coming my way. (I agree that some cats are just special. I had one that I believed was me in feline form - our personalities were so similar. lol.) Thanks for putting a smile on my face. xo
Cookie is adorable! I love all your stories about her. I have had cats all my life and love them. Our present two, Tilly and Eddy, are mother and son. They came to us from under a porch in Louisiana 18 months ago by way of a Boston area rescue organization. We learned that the rest of her kittens were not found until a day later, and came north in a separate batch. When they first entered our house, Eddy, then about 8 weeks, looked around and immediately said, "That's mine, and that's mine, and that over there is mine..." and proceeded to explore his new domain with full presumption of authority. Tilly, on the other hand, must have had a tough kittenhood and teen motherhood, because she disappeared. We didn't figure out until several days later that she was hiding on a ledge above the brick oven, up inside the original kitchen chimney of our 1835 house. Footprints told us she was emerging at night to eat and use the box. We put a blanket over the woodstove on that hearth to create a private space she could come down to, and put everything she would need inside it. Days later she began coming down during the day, then started peeping out of the blanket shelter. We moved the necessaries outside but next to the blanket, and she gradually gained confidence, coming out even when one of us sat in a chair five feet away. These days, the two of them have the run of the house. Their favorite activities after eating and napping are wrestling with one another or galloping around at warp speed, even leaping over chairs. They keep us constantly entertained and consoled, and we are honored and delighted to be their staff. They live indoors full time, both because we are on a busy road and to protect local songbirds. One of their favorite amusements is sitting in the window watching Kitty TV.
I've always been a "dog" person until 2006 or thereabouts. At that time, I was adopted by Charlie Girl, a domesticated black cat who showed up starving and terrified. After Charlie Girl, I was adopted by three "ferals" (only one of which is a true feral), Bill, Doris, and Ginger Boy. They own my yard. Then came sisters Spanx and Judy, whose mother abandoned them. Spanx is a round-eyed blackie and Judy is a Tortoise with round green eyes. So, as things stand now, I'm owned by five cats. And I mean that literally. I love your Friday Feline story and your photos are wonderful!
Great story TC, thanks. I've passed this along to my daughter who is the household cat person and may be able to persuade her to subscribe. I don't have a picture handy of her two, maybe next Friday. Enjoy the weekend.
TC may know this intuitively and as a result of living with cats for many years, but it is far from common knowledge.
'Every cat owner has a story to tell of being blanked by their cat: We call to our cat, it turns away, and some of us might be left wondering why we didn’t get a dog. But your cat may be listening after all. More than that, it cares more than you may think.'
'A study by French researchers that was published last month in the journal Animal Cognition found that not only do cats react to what scientists call cat-directed speech — a high-pitched voice similar to how we talk to babies — they react to who is doing the talking.'
“We found that when cats heard their owners using a high-pitched voice, they reacted more than when they heard their owner speaking normally to another human adult,” said Charlotte de Mouzon, an author of the study and cat behavior expert at the Université Paris Nanterre. “But what was very surprising in our results was that it actually didn’t work when it came from a stranger’s voice.”
'Unlike with dogs, cat behavior is difficult to study, which is part of why humans understand them less.'
'So the researchers for the latest study went to the cats’ homes and played recordings of different types of speech and different speakers. At first, Dr. de Mouzon and her team were worried that the cats weren’t reacting at all. But then they studied film recordings of the encounters. “Their reactions were very subtle,” Dr. de Mouzon said. “It could be just moving an ear or turning the head towards the speaker or even freezing what they were doing.”
In a few cases, the cats in the study would approach the speaker playing a voice and meow. “In the end, we had really clear gains in the cat’s attention when the owner was using cat-directed speech,” Dr. de Mouzon said.'
'The findings showed that “cats are paying close attention to their caretakers, down to not only what they are saying, but how they are saying it,” said Kristyn Vitale, an assistant professor of animal health and behavior at Unity College in Maine who was not involved in the new study.'
'The new study complements Dr. Vitale’s own research into relationships between a cat and its owner. This relationship is so important, Dr. Vitale’s research has found, that it replicates the connection between a kitten and its mother. “It is possible that attachment behaviors originally intended for interactions with their mother have now been modified for interactions with their new caretakers, humans.”
'Unlike dogs, “most cats actually prefer human interaction over other rewards like food or toys,” Dr. Vitale said.'(NYTimes)
My hunch is that you'd like to know more. Okay, you're on. See gifted link below.
When I met Deb, she had two cats. Cleo was an evil genius and Mattie was a total bimbo--I use the term with great affection; she was incredibly cute and incredibly stupid. When Cleo died, Deb said we needed a succession plan, and along came Abigail and Kirby.
After a few weeks, we noticed that Abigail was sleeping in Cleo's favorite spots and playing with Cleo's toys, one of which was a Tuffy mouse--an eraser with a mouse's face attached; Deb got it at a store in San Francisco. Late at night, Cleo would knock it around, then walk through the house meowing, to inform us that she had defeated another enemy, then bring it to the bed and drop it there to share her triumph. Abigail didn't do that, but she would walk through the house with it.
We mentioned this to the friend who helped us get Abigail and Kirby from a cat adoption service. She said she had talked to a pet psychic--um, what? The psychic said the next cat of the same gender in a house would adopt characteristics of the previous one. Yeah, right.
Cleo used to put her right paw straight out--it even became known as "The Paw." She would then look around the room with disdain. Shortly after the conversation with the friend about the pet psychic, we walked into our bedroom and Abigail was on the bed ... with her right paw straight out.
Many years ago, one of my favorite cats, a Russian blue, decided to flee the abuse of our two other felines, and took off. After much searching and neighborhood notes, I figured the coyotes had gotten her. Then, about two years later I spotted her in a nearby front yard (she was distinctly gorgeous), stopped and rang the doorbell. The two young kids, outside with the cat, stood mute and bug-eyed. I explained to their mother that I believed this was the cat I had lost and been looking for. She practically cried and said, yes, the cat had arrived in their back yard and had taken up residence with them. She said she had seen my notes but just couldn’t break her kids’ hearts by giving back the cat. Well, I couldn’t break their hearts either and wished them and my former kitty all the best. After all, it was her choice.
That’s a good picture of you and Cookie.
I was never a 'cat person'. Not because I don't like cats. I'd just never had one or been around them much. When I met my wife nearly 3 decades ago, she had a large orange tabby named Max, a neighborhood stray she'd taken in. Actually, I think it was my future wife who was taken in. Max was a bit of a charmer. And a character. Loved dogs. Never missed an opportunity to accost one walking down the sidewalk with its owner in my wife's city neighborhood to try to instigate a bit of 'play', the dog's reactions being the source of many a laugh.
Too bad Max didn't live long enough to come to live under my roof when we married a few years later and my new wife moved in with me out here in 'the country'. I had a dog at the time, a rescued Shepherd / Lab / I Don't Know What mix. Max and Molly would have no doubt gotten on like a house a'fire. As evidenced by the fact that when my wife moved out here to the sticks, she came with, among the rest of her belongings, three more neighborhood feline rescues, all of which took one look at Molly and disappeared into the basement or any other safe haven they could find, since Molly instantly thought they were the greatest 'playthings' she'd ever seen.
To say that the ensuing years were interesting on the feline / canine front would be a bit of an understatement. But eventually an understanding was reached. I wouldn't exactly call it an outright peace treaty. More like a detent of sorts. But anyone who thinks a cold war couldn't be humorous hasn't seen one such as that one.
Thanks for the pictures. We are sitting here at vet with Molly for her 24 month, 16 mice check-up. She is not impressed and a wonderfully tabby. Soon, she may let me put her back in her travel case. Or not. Meow to Cookie.
Love the photo of the two of you! And the story. So glad to have Fabulous Feline Fridays coming my way. (I agree that some cats are just special. I had one that I believed was me in feline form - our personalities were so similar. lol.) Thanks for putting a smile on my face. xo
I'm forever and always a dog person but this is a beautiful story.
Thanks for a good start for the weekend (admittedly a little early.....)
What a beautiful story! Thank you. I wish I could have a cat.
Cookie is adorable! I love all your stories about her. I have had cats all my life and love them. Our present two, Tilly and Eddy, are mother and son. They came to us from under a porch in Louisiana 18 months ago by way of a Boston area rescue organization. We learned that the rest of her kittens were not found until a day later, and came north in a separate batch. When they first entered our house, Eddy, then about 8 weeks, looked around and immediately said, "That's mine, and that's mine, and that over there is mine..." and proceeded to explore his new domain with full presumption of authority. Tilly, on the other hand, must have had a tough kittenhood and teen motherhood, because she disappeared. We didn't figure out until several days later that she was hiding on a ledge above the brick oven, up inside the original kitchen chimney of our 1835 house. Footprints told us she was emerging at night to eat and use the box. We put a blanket over the woodstove on that hearth to create a private space she could come down to, and put everything she would need inside it. Days later she began coming down during the day, then started peeping out of the blanket shelter. We moved the necessaries outside but next to the blanket, and she gradually gained confidence, coming out even when one of us sat in a chair five feet away. These days, the two of them have the run of the house. Their favorite activities after eating and napping are wrestling with one another or galloping around at warp speed, even leaping over chairs. They keep us constantly entertained and consoled, and we are honored and delighted to be their staff. They live indoors full time, both because we are on a busy road and to protect local songbirds. One of their favorite amusements is sitting in the window watching Kitty TV.
Never heard of the Bombay; researched a bit and they sound delightful. I've always had black cats with green eyes, of the alley breed.
isn't "interspecies miscegenation" a synonym for "hybrid vigor? beautiful cat. and the story is just as good.
I've always been a "dog" person until 2006 or thereabouts. At that time, I was adopted by Charlie Girl, a domesticated black cat who showed up starving and terrified. After Charlie Girl, I was adopted by three "ferals" (only one of which is a true feral), Bill, Doris, and Ginger Boy. They own my yard. Then came sisters Spanx and Judy, whose mother abandoned them. Spanx is a round-eyed blackie and Judy is a Tortoise with round green eyes. So, as things stand now, I'm owned by five cats. And I mean that literally. I love your Friday Feline story and your photos are wonderful!
Great story TC, thanks. I've passed this along to my daughter who is the household cat person and may be able to persuade her to subscribe. I don't have a picture handy of her two, maybe next Friday. Enjoy the weekend.
TC may know this intuitively and as a result of living with cats for many years, but it is far from common knowledge.
'Every cat owner has a story to tell of being blanked by their cat: We call to our cat, it turns away, and some of us might be left wondering why we didn’t get a dog. But your cat may be listening after all. More than that, it cares more than you may think.'
'A study by French researchers that was published last month in the journal Animal Cognition found that not only do cats react to what scientists call cat-directed speech — a high-pitched voice similar to how we talk to babies — they react to who is doing the talking.'
“We found that when cats heard their owners using a high-pitched voice, they reacted more than when they heard their owner speaking normally to another human adult,” said Charlotte de Mouzon, an author of the study and cat behavior expert at the Université Paris Nanterre. “But what was very surprising in our results was that it actually didn’t work when it came from a stranger’s voice.”
'Unlike with dogs, cat behavior is difficult to study, which is part of why humans understand them less.'
'So the researchers for the latest study went to the cats’ homes and played recordings of different types of speech and different speakers. At first, Dr. de Mouzon and her team were worried that the cats weren’t reacting at all. But then they studied film recordings of the encounters. “Their reactions were very subtle,” Dr. de Mouzon said. “It could be just moving an ear or turning the head towards the speaker or even freezing what they were doing.”
In a few cases, the cats in the study would approach the speaker playing a voice and meow. “In the end, we had really clear gains in the cat’s attention when the owner was using cat-directed speech,” Dr. de Mouzon said.'
'The findings showed that “cats are paying close attention to their caretakers, down to not only what they are saying, but how they are saying it,” said Kristyn Vitale, an assistant professor of animal health and behavior at Unity College in Maine who was not involved in the new study.'
'The new study complements Dr. Vitale’s own research into relationships between a cat and its owner. This relationship is so important, Dr. Vitale’s research has found, that it replicates the connection between a kitten and its mother. “It is possible that attachment behaviors originally intended for interactions with their mother have now been modified for interactions with their new caretakers, humans.”
'Unlike dogs, “most cats actually prefer human interaction over other rewards like food or toys,” Dr. Vitale said.'(NYTimes)
My hunch is that you'd like to know more. Okay, you're on. See gifted link below.
https://www.nytimes.com/2022/11/12/science/cat-talking-owners-voice-dog.html?unlocked_article_code=4A1U19KN42II084XfNM7zrmN7OV3l2ztJbn8jckp5Q7Dl5vlkLo9IpBIRdaG7cXdVSi41FddydkEiGtTKvKmxTKbI5odQGZKn00c9juE682nPi51QbjcDmX-cUbeEID8qkgaLnFhe_k_quYy3jg_RMURMLx-wZNgOr2wN_eFM987K7xKakcPnU-6zVxSX_2_QA4XxnFeXx2Q6eFqHyj4jK6iGjuZVsiRxeQCIr5gGza2nT12ep0xf2zpca8hYFFfTNIUselk_u7YMCnLc-R1CAqD2QH6-n5znJuIoDIXzN3F5bm35u1vWtV87WX9gZgbcilabMcS0DUoq6oL67A7wpdAvGXvTA&smid=share-url
The purrfect soundtrack for Fabulous Feline Fridays is the Stray Cat Strut by The Stray Cats.
I'm glad you realize that Cookie is your owner.
When I met Deb, she had two cats. Cleo was an evil genius and Mattie was a total bimbo--I use the term with great affection; she was incredibly cute and incredibly stupid. When Cleo died, Deb said we needed a succession plan, and along came Abigail and Kirby.
After a few weeks, we noticed that Abigail was sleeping in Cleo's favorite spots and playing with Cleo's toys, one of which was a Tuffy mouse--an eraser with a mouse's face attached; Deb got it at a store in San Francisco. Late at night, Cleo would knock it around, then walk through the house meowing, to inform us that she had defeated another enemy, then bring it to the bed and drop it there to share her triumph. Abigail didn't do that, but she would walk through the house with it.
We mentioned this to the friend who helped us get Abigail and Kirby from a cat adoption service. She said she had talked to a pet psychic--um, what? The psychic said the next cat of the same gender in a house would adopt characteristics of the previous one. Yeah, right.
Cleo used to put her right paw straight out--it even became known as "The Paw." She would then look around the room with disdain. Shortly after the conversation with the friend about the pet psychic, we walked into our bedroom and Abigail was on the bed ... with her right paw straight out.
I'm convinced.