Hi, my name is… Well, I am not really sure what my name is. My people keep changing it. First, I was named Cinnamon, then it was Phoebe. The grandkids call me Princess and the boss of the house (the guy who thinks he is the boss of the house) likes to call me Kitten. Lately, they have even started calling me Cindy– it’s something about a fashion model because I am cute and have this black bump on my nose. Do I respond to any of those names? Well, that’s sort of what this is all about.

I heard the big guy talking about an article he had read in the New York Times. (Yeah, he likes to drop into conversation that he reads the Times. I wouldn’t let that paper line my litter box.) Anyway, the article had a big headline Cats Like People! It reported on some goofy scientific study showing that a big percentage of cats are “securely bonded” to their owners. It was about the same percentage as found in dogs (yuck!) and human babies (ok-those can be cute.) Like this is some front-page news?

I know my people’s daily routines as well as they do. I follow them from room to room. Some evenings I even get a few minutes ahead of them, so I can be in the office and greet them from my favorite ottoman when they come into the room to watch Fleabag or Workin’ Moms. (I’m so glad that Game of Thrones is over–so violent. Alas, last night I did see a commercial for the new season of The Walking Dead. I’m afraid more mayhem ahead.)

I can read the folks moods. I know if they aren’t feeling right. After the Missus had her surgery I cuddled up with her all day long, a living, squirming, pettable, hot water bottle. Sure, I shed on her a bit, but my coat is so soft and silky who can resist me?

Do I know my name and come when they call me. To be honest, I’m not a big fan of being summoned if it interrupts my 22 hours of daily beauty rest, but if I am awake and I hear him calling for the kitten, or her whistling my favorite tune, I will show up. Maybe not right away, but sooner or later I will get there–a girl can’t seem too over-eager.

Do I do all this just so they will get me my tablespoon of fancy cat food mixed with all those dry Purina pellets? Heck no. He feeds me first thing in the morning, but I am a loyal companion all day long. All night too–nothing better than stretching out on their bed with them when the house is quiet.

So all you scientists out there, all you overpaid New York Times writers-yeah CATS LIKE PEOPLE. I could have told you that and saved you all the trouble.

Now if I can only get the guy to stop typing and rub my ears some more…

 

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