Chris finds that some cats take a while to warm to him . . .
Chris Pascoe’s Fun Tales
Whilst I get on well with most of the cats I visit on my cat-sitting rounds (I’m very polite with cats), there’s always the odd one who’ll go out of their way to make absolutely sure there’ll be no contact, and most certainly no bonding.
To those particular felines, our relationship is strictly master and servant.
I’m a visiting feeder and tray-cleaner and I should just get on with my job, keeping my sweet-talk and strokes to myself.
Obviously, when it’s made clear to me that friendship isn’t an option, I try to make friends, whether they like it or not.
The most recent example of this sort of thing involved Dillon, a scruffy tabby. I only knew Dillon was a rough-around-the-edges alley-cat type through seeing him in photos, because whenever I walked in the front door, he’d exit by the rear catflap.
What confused me is how Dillon always knew who was walking into the house – that it was me, and not just his owners. This isn’t just a Dillon thing, either, but true of many cats. Just how do they know?
They can be totally unsighted in a far room, upstairs asleep, or on urgent litter tray business, but they instantly know who’s walked in. Is it some sort of sixth sense, I wonder, or just their incredible sense of smell. Do I really smell that bad?
I decided to do some research on that – the cat senses thing, not how bad I smell – and the answer appears to be a combination of factors: sense of smell, yes, acute hearing, a clever reading of air movements, and even noting the static electricity you create all combine to tell cats exactly who’s coming through the door.
They can even predict earthquakes with this amazing sensual array, so simply detecting
