More Thoughts, But Cats

If you’ve ever pondered over a cat’s intelligence, I must break it to you: they are like people. Every one is different. I don’t care how many times you tell me they are not, I stand by this proposition.

I have many cats. I won’t say how many, but I will just say that it constitutes enough for a small scale scientific experiment. So I will present the evidence…Draw your own conclusions.

Lulu was an sharp old woman, approximately 65 in her own years, who violently detested her own kind. She was maybe even a bit like Hitler, if Hitler hated the Germans rather than everyone else, even though he himself was German. But, then, she had rough beginnings, being homeless in her adolescent years and bullied ruthlessly by the street gangs. So, she did not tolerate anyone trespassing on her turf; such trespassers would be dealt with intimidation tactics, verbal abuses, and physical assault.

Now, Muffboi was a young fellow approaching college age—a bit stupid, but quite handsome. Blue eyes, luscious white hair, steaks of gold…Whether it is low intelligence or arrogance that dominates his behavior, I cannot say. Like anyone, he is complex, and who is to say what truly goes on in his mind? I have conflicting opinions on Muffboi.

Now, I introduce these simultaneously because my first example is of continued conflict between the two. It all started when Muffboi had difficulty understanding boundaries. Rather, he became highly distraught at barriers to entry. At times, he would rush in through the door, invading Lulu‘s territory. Lulu did not take kindly to such interruptions. After prompt action, Muffboi realized this rash (and quite rude) behavior would have consequences. Muffboi, however, would not be deterred. He began a practice of swiftly rushing into the room, then promptly rushing out of the room when his nemesis made her appearance. Lulu, for her part, resorted to minimalist intimidation, making her presence known without resorting to extremes unless necessary. Lulu, despite her prejudices, demonstrates intellect.

On one of such occasions, I tired of Muffboi’s antics. I did not keep the door open, available to escape. “Muffboi must learn”, I decided. Muffboi understood his dilemma quite quickly, to his credit. As Lulu approached, prepared for attack, he kept to the door, optimistic (or perhaps just praying) it would open for him. I began to rise, ready to intervene if necessary.

But then, something strange happened. Lulu stopped in her tracks. In fact, her whole demeanor transformed; her shoulders relaxed, back un-stiffened…She turned on her heel, with her back now to Muffboi and she began trotting over to me with her tail rising amiably like the American flag.

I was befuddled, utterly befuddled. Here, I was hoping to break Muffboi’s reign of terrorism, but it seemed Muffboi had broken Lulu. I smiled, believing Lulu had finally learned acceptance and love, that she had overcome her nightmarish past.

But then, she stopped again. All at once, she charged toward poor Muffboi, who had not anticipated such a development. His face was of utter terror as he realized his fate was sealed; he was done for. I sprang into action, opening the door a crevice to let him escape as Lulu chased him in a circle, then out the door.

I will tell you though Lulu‘s surprise plan worked more effectively than mine ever could. It was a few feline years before Muffboi mustered the courage to pick up his old habit.