The predator lined up its target prey
within its sights. The creature’s keen, almost supernatural senses had detected
with unmistakable accuracy, the prey’s movements. With calculated, subliminal
cleverness, the predator prepped itself for an ambush, ready at any moment to
spring a trap upon its unsuspecting quarry.
With delicate, dexterous movements, the
predator sauntered over into an adequate hiding spot on its four limbs. When it
had positioned itself according to where its prey would surely arrive, it
waited with inhuman patience for the opportune moment to spring upon the
creature unfortunate enough to cross his path. Its dazzling and terrifying
golden eyes twinkled with malice and its grey tail swished behind it with its
eagerness.
Suddenly, the predator’s grey pointed
ears perk up and twitch like radar dishes as its prey’s movements signal its
impending arrival. It hears and detects step after step that the prey takes toward
it; its advanced senses and its natural intuition as a tactician and a hunter
allowing it to pinpoint exactly when and where the prey will reveal itself. As
the prey’s obvious movements grow louder and it blatantly enters the watchful
beast’s line of sight, then that is when the predator finally strikes.
With claws bared and terrifying roar
being belched, the grey beast lunges from its secluded hiding spot and attacks.
The well-planned ambush set by the
predator led to an attack that lasted all of two seconds. There was no biting
or gnarling or unadulterated bloody violence like seen on National Geographic
as a lion takes down a gazelle. Rather, this was an attack of a different
sorts; the outcome of which was equivalent to that of a predator taking down
prey in the wild: food.
In this particular scenario, the
grey-furred “predator” was not a feral panther or a deadly cheetah, but was
none other than a quirky little Russian Blue feline named Charlie. His prey:
the blond-haired human woman that feeds him every day. His mission: snag at her
sleeve as she walks by so that she’ll give up some cat treats. His well-planned
hiding spot: the kitchen counter.
Charlie’s prey, the blond woman, gives a
gasp of feigned astonishment at the fact that the devious little predator had
snagged a hold of her sleeve with his claw.
“You got me! Does that mean you want
some treats?” the blond woman cheekily asks the cat.
The attentive grey feline cocks its head
at her, giving a puzzled expression as its grey lip quivers slightly as its
ears twitch and its wide golden eyes gleam up at her with curiosity and
eagerness. After a second, it responds to the question asked of it by shaking
its head and letting out a series of purrs followed by an audible chirping
sound.
Taking that as acceptance enough, the
blond woman retrieves a handful of cat treats from the pantry and deposits them
onto a paper plate and, like a subservient butler, delivers it right up to the
counter where the pampered feline awaits his prize. A successful hunt.
Beware, human owners; for this is Charlie,
and you are in his jungle. And you’d better be willing to give up some cat
treats or else…
That cheeky, grey-furred bundle of
wickedness called Charlie, as you are likely aware, is my cat. The blond-haired
woman that was his prey was my mother. That particular kitchen hunt scenario
was just one of many similar instances in which I’d begun to note just how
clever domesticated felines are at stringing us along and manipulating us human
owners into doing their bidding.
This particular behavior among felines
isn’t a new understanding. Scientists and behavioral ecologists (those that
study animal behavior) have examined that cats have their own way of using
behavioral methods in order to attain food in particular from their human
owners.
Professor Karen McComb of the University
of Sussex studied feline behavior and acknowledges that cats use an audible
chirp-like meow to “beg” for food. According to McComb in a Livescience online
journal, this crying meow which has been dubbed “solicitation purring” shares
distinct similarities to a human baby cry. Thus, once a cat associates the
behavioral stimulus of making a baby-like cry and the response of the human
owner feeding them, they will habituate this behavior as a future means of
attaining food.
I’ve found too that the solicitation
purring will not be the only means of garnering a response from human owners.
With my own cat Charlie, once he has used certain methods to catch our
attention, such as his iconic “sleeve swiping” or getting up on his hind legs
and waving his paws at us, he will continue to repeat them and repeat them like
clockwork because he knows that it will work in his favor.
Fellow cat owner Carol Morres recognizes
herself that her feline companions use daily trickery to get what they want out
of their owner.
“Kitty is the most human-like. If she
wants something, she'll come up and meow. When I ask her what she wants, she'll
either run to the kitchen or to the door. When Smokey (one of her other cats)
wants me to get out of bed, she'll walk on my hair or paw my face. When she
wants me to notice her, she'll jump on my shoulder and won't let go until I pry
her loose. She's the clingiest and is usually in my lap or shoulder most often
and knows I can't refuse her,” said Morres.
On rare occasions however, cats have
been known to use their manipulative tactics to elicit a response from a human
in the event of an abnormality. Catching our attention in redundant, persistent
ways isn’t always done for the sake of gaining food or other accolades
repeatedly. Sometimes, they take notice of a strange occurrence and are simply
trying to alert us to it.
For example, Morres has said that one of
her previous cats named Blondie had even meowed at her repeatedly in the middle
of the night once to give her a warning.
“While I was asleep upstairs, she came
to my bed and kept meowing and meowing. She was a docile, mellow cat, so being
persistent about anything wasn't her manner, but she persisted. I got annoyed
and even threw a pillow in her direction, but she kept meowing anyway. Finally,
I got up, and when I did, she ran down the stairs and stood next to the door -
which was wide open! To this day I don't
know how it got open. It amazes me that she knew that wasn't normal - you
wouldn't think a cat would care one way or another. Once I closed and locked
the door, she stopped pestering me,” Morres stated.
Therefore, as shown with this scenario
with Morres’ cat Blondie, much of the behavior surrounding felines including
the manipulation and the solicitation for food, revolves around environmental factors.
Cats are more intuitive that most of us
would like to think; they can recognize when their given environment has
changed and they often won’t hesitate to give us cues that they themselves
recognize the change. Thus when a change occurs that the cat isn’t used to, it
will respond to it accordingly, as Blondie did with the open door. However, if
the door were to be kept open all day long, Blondie would gradually habituate
this as a norm and would no longer alert her owner to the open door because it
has become a detail common to her environment. This is a behavioral learning method
that behavioral ecologist Dr. Maud Ferrari of the Oxford Journal (among others)
has dubbed “habituation.”
The same goes for the solicitation and
methods to gain food; once a feline has tried and succeeded at gaining food
from its owner, be it through the high-pitched meowing or other methods
(Charlie’s sleeve-swiping), this will become a normal routine behavior due to
the repetition. If however, the owner was to stop caving in and responding to
the solicitation purring or the sleeve swiping, the cat would eventually change
its behavior and seek another means of attaining what it wants.
The principles of basic ecology can be
applied to ones very own home and the feline companions that reside in it. As
far as the cat is concerned, the house is an environmental ecosystem just like
the African Savannah where their distant cousins dwell. When a cat strings us
along with clever manipulation, we as their owners can also look at it from a
scientific standpoint and see past the veil of cuteness and realize that the
begging for food and the attempts to catch our attention are not only cute
little antics and performances for our amusement, but are really the feline’s
ways of adapting to its environment. Unlike the feral hunters stalking their
prey from the brush, our domesticated cats lack the ability to hunt for food in
the natural way that instinct would have them do. The attempts to bend us to
its will are merely a reflection of the cat’s natural struggle to survive in
its environment as with any animal.
It’s certainly something to think about
the next time you see your furry companion perched up onto its hind legs waving
its paws in the air like a court jester, letting out audible, chirping meows in
your direction. As you once again fall to its devious methods of persuasion,
realize for the first time that you are the pawn and the cat is the true owner.
This is your cat’s jungle…and it has mastered it with perfection.
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