A special bond sometimes forms between higher and lower life forms. By higher, I mean, of course, we cats. And lower obviously refers to animals of the two-legged variety. Perhaps my fellow felines could glean some wisdom from the way I communicate with and – yes – possess my favourite human bean.
For me, there was no question that my strongest bond would develop with Father. He’s not my real father, of course. This I know because of his lack of similar fur and complete absence of a tail. His self-grooming, which I’ve studied carefully, always involves implements, not his tongue. Clearly, we are not the same species but with patience and love, he’s been able to overcome many of his natural deficiencies.
With gentle encouragement, this man has become an excellent back scratcher. If there were a kitty back-scratching Olympics, he would stand proudly on the podium with a large gold medallion suspended from his neck. My combination of purrs and loving, squinty-eyed, mesmerizing gazes inspire him to continue dragging those brawny fingertips down my spine. Should he attempt to quit before I’ve had my fill, a sharp MEOW convinces him to carry on.
Facial expressions must not be underestimated, my little laser chasers. An appreciative stare coupled with a glass-shattering purr will put your beloved into a trance. My human repeats phrases to me such as, “Look at that little face”, and, “You’re such a little sweetie”. Although I don’t wish any ill will upon Mother (who, by the way, is not my real mother for many of the reasons mentioned earlier) I do take delight in noting that he has chosen Sweetie as my nickname, not hers. She finds this charming and shows not a whit of envy. Silly woman.
These techniques that I share may seem simple but I promise you, they’ve been cultivated over the years, since early in my adoption. I experimented with combinations of purrs, meows, and smiles until I hit upon the exact sequence that resulted in the longest back and belly scratches possible.
Our communication does go both ways. Once in a while, he requires a physical response. Sometimes I stretch. Often, I roll over and expose my belly in a move even the most clueless of beings in your life could decipher. And sometimes, I reach out and touch, too.
He smells like heaven and manliness! Like towels fresh from the hot, tumbling machine mixed with a hint of wood smoke and a dash of pleasant spices. You must stake your claim when you’ve found that special human bean to bond with. I mark him with my chin’s scent glands at every opportunity, so he knows, as do any other felines he comes in contact with, that he belongs to me.
Put in the effort, my mewling disciples, and you will be rewarded with a human bean all your own. When you walk into a room his heart will melt and his spirit will soar. You’ll know the joy of being the one, fur-shedding creature that improves his mood and causes him to smile as wide as a cornfield. Meals will appear on time, perhaps even early. Your comfort will be of utmost importance. Life will be grand!
In the litterbox of life, may your sand be turd-free and your privacy, respected. Until next week, my little tuna cravers! All my love,