This past weekend I visited some longtime friends (a couple) who have no cats, but who do have a dog. His name is named Skip, and he is about eight years old.
Skip and I have somewhat of a turbulent history, in the sense that when my friends first adopted him (at about a year old) he was so intimidatingly hyperkinetic and gregarious that I frankly had no idea how to handle his presence. I spent many a visit following his arrival in my friends' household trying to avoid Skip and silently attempting to will him away from sticking his nose in my food (or my butt, for that matter).
My instincts were also apparently more than a little bit "off" because somehow at one point I got it into my head that if I gave him my pizza crust he would leave me alone. As you can probably imagine, this is NOT what ended up happening. What ended up happening was that Skip determined I had to be the world's biggest pushover, and thus for as long as he's lived with my friends he's had a tendency to follow me around, well, like a puppy dog.
Now, of course I don't literally believe humans can be divided into "cat people" and "dog people" in a strictly binary sense. I've known plenty of folks who've lived happily with both species (and also with rabbits, goats, chickens, and even llamas in the case of my grandparents!). But in general I am quite comfortable describing myself as, by and large, a Cat Person. Cats have always just seemed a lot more respectful of others' personal space, "oh hai, here's my butt in your face!" moments notwithstanding.
They also generally smell better than dogs (superficial, I know, but it's true...most dogs I've met smell disconcertingly like stale cheese, whereas cats smell like lavender and autumn leaves and fresh earth to my admittedly atypical olfactory system) and they're (generally speaking) a lot more inclined toward the "parallel play" type of interaction I tend to prefer with most living creatures, at least when I'm expected to remain in the presence of said creatures for any length of time.
With cats, you can just be in a room doing your thing and they'll be doing their thing, and even without constantly being in each other's business, there's this wonderful ongoing invisible-reciprocity thing at work. Of course there are exceptions to this (I actually just sat down again after a brief but intense game of "run madly around the house" with Nikki, who had been pestering me with her most emphatic "I AM BORED, COME ENTERTAIN ME, HUMAN!" door-scratching routine) but on balance I meet far more "parallel-inclined" cats and far more dogs who seem to want and need a heck of a lot of "face time" and very direct forms of acknowledgment.
Dogs, by and large, tend to put me into the same vaguely-agitated state that small children (of the age when kids tend to be yelling "LOOKATME! LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT THIS! WATCH!" about everything) or human extroverts (of any age) do. As if they're constantly breathing down my neck going "Why are you so quiet? Are you upset? Are you bored? Are you lonely?? Are you okay? Are you SURE you aren't sad???", and then basically proceeding to repeatedly hassle me for some intangible response that I have no idea how to give.
That said, I've known a handful of truly excellent canines, such as my grandparents' old Australian Cattle Dog, Matilda. Matilda was outgoing to be sure, but she was so polite, and I remain indebted to her to this day for helping me find my way back to the house after I got lost in the snow as a youngster one winter. But overall at this point in my life I see dogs the same way I see children: fine, as long as they're other people's, and as long as they're not constantly jumping up in my face.
Which brings us back to Mr. Skip. At eight years old he's far from being a sedate dog but he's definitely mellower, and he's gotten a whole lot more thoughtful and patient. He still follows me around and gives me every manner of piteous begging-face, but his manners have improved tremendously and he is long past the age when he would actively stick his snout into my plate (or worse).
Anyhow, this last time I visited my friends and Skip, one really interesting thing I discovered was that there is actually some amount of crossover between relating to cats and relating to (at least some) dogs. Or at least there seems to be.
My guess is that it's something to do with practice -- as in, when you live with several nonhuman creatures day in and day out, you sort of end up shifting into a mode where you very readily and automatically start seeing them as "stakeholders" in the environment you share with them.
And when you experience that perspective-shift, suddenly you stop being as annoyed by whatever actions of theirs you don't quite understand.
Or something like that, at least.
In any event, during this past visit I actually managed to have a lot of fun interacting with Skip. The coolest part was where he approached me and taught me how to play a game he liked (one which mainly involved him running around the dining table playing a variant of "keep-away" with one of his toys). His humans had no part in showing me what to do; I just followed Skip's lead and found him to be a wonderfully clear communicator.
Again, partly I suspect much of this is due to the fact that he's older now than when I first met him, and I'm a lot more comfortable with mellow(er) older dogs than with hyperactive puppies and young dogs. But I am quite sure that something else -- something on my end -- has also changed, and I would wager my cats (especially Nikki, who is probably the most regally demanding cat I've ever met) are largely to thank for it!
Showing posts with label language. Show all posts
Showing posts with label language. Show all posts
Monday, August 29, 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Tall Cat Is Also Loud
Observe!
I finally managed to get a semi-decent video of Shadow making some of his characteristic conversational noises.
(He has actually been even chattier than usual lately -- all the kitties here have a major case of Spring Fever, owing to the hordes of birds and squirrels that have been congregating on the back patio lately. But I am glad I got this video because it really shows his level of extremely vocal and personality-laden "interactivity" -- along with his insistence on acknowledgment. Apparently he's been taking lessons from Nikki!)
I finally managed to get a semi-decent video of Shadow making some of his characteristic conversational noises.
(He has actually been even chattier than usual lately -- all the kitties here have a major case of Spring Fever, owing to the hordes of birds and squirrels that have been congregating on the back patio lately. But I am glad I got this video because it really shows his level of extremely vocal and personality-laden "interactivity" -- along with his insistence on acknowledgment. Apparently he's been taking lessons from Nikki!)
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Approaching Cats: A Video
I want to do a series of videos showing interactions between cats and other cats, between cats and their environment, and between humans and cats. Mainly I want to highlight two things with these videos: (1) things cats do and ways they might respond and communicate that aren't commonly noticed or mentioned, and (2) how humans might, by taking feline nature and individual cat-personalities into account, interact more respectfully and on a deeper level than before with cats.
The first video of this sort is embedded below:
It's a bit "rough", especially in terms of the audio...unfortunately when I was filming the water heater in my house (which is old and nearing time for replacement) was making all these obnoxious banging noises, which the camera microphone picked up even though I was in a separate room from the heater.
I also didn't script the video due to the fact that I was not sure what the cats (Cora and Shadow in this case) were going to do, and hence my narration is not super articulate. I did attempt to add captions, though, so hopefully that compensates for some of the audio issues.
Anyway, basically in this video I am trying to convey something about approaching cats (as a human living or otherwise interacting with them). Because one thing I see a lot is humans who don't seem to consider whether or not a cat might WANT to be petted or picked up. And a lot of people don't seem to even have an idea that cats CAN communicate this kind of thing, I mean outside something really egregiously obvious like running away or squirming.
But I am quite certain there's a heck of a lot being transmitted by the cat before they get to the point of needing to do something really blatant. While of course I can't claim a direct pipeline into the feline mind, I've definitely gotten the sense over time that cats prefer a modicum of politeness on the part of their human(s) when being approached by same. And while I'm not perfect at the finer points of feline politeness myself, I certainly plan to keep trying to get better.
This particular video just sort of introduces the topic of approaching cats, without getting too deeply into explanations. Initially Cora and Shadow were sitting on the bed together, but then they engage in a few seconds of grooming leading to (unserious) face-biting followed by Cora deciding she was done napping and proceeding to amuse herself jumping about the room and climbing on things. Shadow, meanwhile, stayed on the bed for some more relaxation with me. The end of the video hence trails off a bit into a rambling description of Shadow's tendency to pick up human words...of course that's not the ONLY thing he does that's interesting or worth noting, but it's what I ended up talking about in this case.
So, like I say in the video, hopefully future chapters of this will be better planned out. But I do really like the idea of observing cats in real-time like this. The next video, which I hope to have up before this week is out, will be on the concept of inviting cats (to sit with you, to share in some activity, etc.).
The first video of this sort is embedded below:
It's a bit "rough", especially in terms of the audio...unfortunately when I was filming the water heater in my house (which is old and nearing time for replacement) was making all these obnoxious banging noises, which the camera microphone picked up even though I was in a separate room from the heater.
I also didn't script the video due to the fact that I was not sure what the cats (Cora and Shadow in this case) were going to do, and hence my narration is not super articulate. I did attempt to add captions, though, so hopefully that compensates for some of the audio issues.
Anyway, basically in this video I am trying to convey something about approaching cats (as a human living or otherwise interacting with them). Because one thing I see a lot is humans who don't seem to consider whether or not a cat might WANT to be petted or picked up. And a lot of people don't seem to even have an idea that cats CAN communicate this kind of thing, I mean outside something really egregiously obvious like running away or squirming.
But I am quite certain there's a heck of a lot being transmitted by the cat before they get to the point of needing to do something really blatant. While of course I can't claim a direct pipeline into the feline mind, I've definitely gotten the sense over time that cats prefer a modicum of politeness on the part of their human(s) when being approached by same. And while I'm not perfect at the finer points of feline politeness myself, I certainly plan to keep trying to get better.
This particular video just sort of introduces the topic of approaching cats, without getting too deeply into explanations. Initially Cora and Shadow were sitting on the bed together, but then they engage in a few seconds of grooming leading to (unserious) face-biting followed by Cora deciding she was done napping and proceeding to amuse herself jumping about the room and climbing on things. Shadow, meanwhile, stayed on the bed for some more relaxation with me. The end of the video hence trails off a bit into a rambling description of Shadow's tendency to pick up human words...of course that's not the ONLY thing he does that's interesting or worth noting, but it's what I ended up talking about in this case.
So, like I say in the video, hopefully future chapters of this will be better planned out. But I do really like the idea of observing cats in real-time like this. The next video, which I hope to have up before this week is out, will be on the concept of inviting cats (to sit with you, to share in some activity, etc.).
Sunday, August 1, 2010
With Sideways Mind: On Listening To Cats
Scene: computer room, my house, around 7:30 PM this evening
Shadow (from the floor behind my chair): "YAAAAAAOW! YAAAAOW! MYOOOOOUUUU! MRRREW!"
Anne: "What?"
Shadow: "YAAAAAOW! REEEE! MIEW! MMMMM!"
Anne: "What, little guy?"
Shadow: "Nrrrrrrr. Miew. YAAAO!"
Anne (gets up from chair): "Okay, fine, Lassie, show me what you want."
Shadow: *gets up, trots into the hallway*
Anne: *follows, waits to see which direction Shadow seems to be going in*
Shadow: *heads toward kitchen*
Anne: *follows*
Shadow: *plunks self down on linoleum, looks at Anne, looks out window*
Anne: "You want me to sit down?"
Shadow: *motions in the affirmative*
***
So, I sit down, right on the linoleum (which is actually linoleum and not vinyl). Shadow proceeds to snuggle up against my leg. I hear the purr motor start going.
Seated there, I notice that there's quite a lovely breeze coming through the back screen door. The air smells fresh and carries little notes of back-yard with it: tomato leaves, pepper, dry grass. Then I look out the large window overlooking the patio.
Through the trellised semi-roof over the concrete surface next to the garden I see a huge flock of birds making their way across the sky. They're too far away for me to tell what type of bird they are; all I can see is that they're dark-colored, too small to be crows, too large to be sparrows.
Shadow and I both sit there for a while. I don't keep track of exactly how long. The birds pass in waves: one group, then another, then another. The breeze continues to blow. Shadow climbs into my lap, still purring.
Eventually, of course, I have to get up, so I do. But not before thanking Shadow.
***
Cats communicate. They may not speak (in English or any other human language) but they certainly have plenty to say. I do not claim to understand cats in general, or any specific cat, perfectly, and I find it unnerving (and often a sign of bad ethics) when any human makes such a claim.
However, in living with cats and noting the patterns of how they interact with me, with other cats, with objects in their environment, etc., I have definitely come to realize certain things about listening. Not listening with ears, per se. -- more like (and readers of Michael Ende will know what I mean here) Momo-listening.
What cats have to say can be very subtle. Shadow meows loudly and often but that is only a miniscule part of what he says. Yes, he often wants a snack, and sometimes it's clear he wants me to get one of those wand-type toys he loves and wiggle the string so he can chase the feather-tailed mouse or whatever happen to be attached. But other times he just plain surprises me.
***
The incident related above is foremost in my mind as I write this, yet it is far from isolated. I have been astounded more times than I can count at the complexity and delicacy of what my cats tell me, how their actions illustrate what they're noticing and paying attention to in the world around them.
There is just not much in the human culture with which I am most familiar (or its common vocabularies) that prepares someone for this kind of thing.
For listening to cats involves a lot of what I would call "the cognitive equivalent of peripheral vision".
It involves a lot of not as well: as in, not immediately assuming the cat just wants food, or even play, or generalized "attention". It involves not placing fixed, arbitrary limits on your idea of what cats are capable of thinking, experiencing, and doing.
This is, in part, because cats are so good at being cats, they don't actively require our approval or permission to continue doing so throughout their lives. In other words, their catness is not dependent on being judged proper or sufficent by humans; catness simply is, and cats are surely cats even when no-one is looking.
This means that a human might "keep" a cat, feed her, change her litter, pat her head and call her a good cat on occasion -- presuming the whole while that their human view of their coexistence encompasses the whole of the cat's existence and experience. When in fact nothing could be further from the truth. The truth is that only cats have subjective knowledge of what being a cat feels like, and the truth is also that cattish priorities very often differ from typical human ones.
As for me, while certainly I am not a cat, I am very interested in what they have to say. I want very much for them to feel like they can show me where to sit to let a nice breeze wash over one, and where one might get to witness a dazzling display of avian migration. I want them to know that I see their priorities and interests as valid and genuine. I do not know the degree to which this will ultimately be possible, but I am sure as heck willing to keep trying my darndest to listen.
Shadow (from the floor behind my chair): "YAAAAAAOW! YAAAAOW! MYOOOOOUUUU! MRRREW!"
Anne: "What?"
Shadow: "YAAAAAOW! REEEE! MIEW! MMMMM!"
Anne: "What, little guy?"
Shadow: "Nrrrrrrr. Miew. YAAAO!"
Anne (gets up from chair): "Okay, fine, Lassie, show me what you want."
Shadow: *gets up, trots into the hallway*
Anne: *follows, waits to see which direction Shadow seems to be going in*
Shadow: *heads toward kitchen*
Anne: *follows*
Shadow: *plunks self down on linoleum, looks at Anne, looks out window*
Anne: "You want me to sit down?"
Shadow: *motions in the affirmative*
***
So, I sit down, right on the linoleum (which is actually linoleum and not vinyl). Shadow proceeds to snuggle up against my leg. I hear the purr motor start going.
Seated there, I notice that there's quite a lovely breeze coming through the back screen door. The air smells fresh and carries little notes of back-yard with it: tomato leaves, pepper, dry grass. Then I look out the large window overlooking the patio.
Through the trellised semi-roof over the concrete surface next to the garden I see a huge flock of birds making their way across the sky. They're too far away for me to tell what type of bird they are; all I can see is that they're dark-colored, too small to be crows, too large to be sparrows.
Shadow and I both sit there for a while. I don't keep track of exactly how long. The birds pass in waves: one group, then another, then another. The breeze continues to blow. Shadow climbs into my lap, still purring.
Eventually, of course, I have to get up, so I do. But not before thanking Shadow.
***
Cats communicate. They may not speak (in English or any other human language) but they certainly have plenty to say. I do not claim to understand cats in general, or any specific cat, perfectly, and I find it unnerving (and often a sign of bad ethics) when any human makes such a claim.
However, in living with cats and noting the patterns of how they interact with me, with other cats, with objects in their environment, etc., I have definitely come to realize certain things about listening. Not listening with ears, per se. -- more like (and readers of Michael Ende will know what I mean here) Momo-listening.
What cats have to say can be very subtle. Shadow meows loudly and often but that is only a miniscule part of what he says. Yes, he often wants a snack, and sometimes it's clear he wants me to get one of those wand-type toys he loves and wiggle the string so he can chase the feather-tailed mouse or whatever happen to be attached. But other times he just plain surprises me.
***
The incident related above is foremost in my mind as I write this, yet it is far from isolated. I have been astounded more times than I can count at the complexity and delicacy of what my cats tell me, how their actions illustrate what they're noticing and paying attention to in the world around them.
There is just not much in the human culture with which I am most familiar (or its common vocabularies) that prepares someone for this kind of thing.
For listening to cats involves a lot of what I would call "the cognitive equivalent of peripheral vision".
It involves a lot of not as well: as in, not immediately assuming the cat just wants food, or even play, or generalized "attention". It involves not placing fixed, arbitrary limits on your idea of what cats are capable of thinking, experiencing, and doing.
This is, in part, because cats are so good at being cats, they don't actively require our approval or permission to continue doing so throughout their lives. In other words, their catness is not dependent on being judged proper or sufficent by humans; catness simply is, and cats are surely cats even when no-one is looking.
This means that a human might "keep" a cat, feed her, change her litter, pat her head and call her a good cat on occasion -- presuming the whole while that their human view of their coexistence encompasses the whole of the cat's existence and experience. When in fact nothing could be further from the truth. The truth is that only cats have subjective knowledge of what being a cat feels like, and the truth is also that cattish priorities very often differ from typical human ones.
As for me, while certainly I am not a cat, I am very interested in what they have to say. I want very much for them to feel like they can show me where to sit to let a nice breeze wash over one, and where one might get to witness a dazzling display of avian migration. I want them to know that I see their priorities and interests as valid and genuine. I do not know the degree to which this will ultimately be possible, but I am sure as heck willing to keep trying my darndest to listen.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Shadow and Cora Meowing
All four cats here can be very chatty at times, and the three younger ones seem to be getting talkier by the day! Nikki, being Siamese, can of course be quite loud when she really needs to emphasize a point, but these days she isn't the most frequent meower -- that title currently goes to Shadow, who seems to have appointed himself spokescat for the household.
Anyway, I have been trying for a while now to get a video (with audio) of Shadow's meowing. He has a very...unique sound. I have never in my life encountered a cat who sounds quite like he does. His meow is sort of this adorably discordant squeak-yell, combined with the occasional "disappointed R2-D2" sound. Of course I take his communications seriously and always try to figure out what he is trying to say, but it is pretty clear that sometimes he just wants acknowledgment. E.g., part of the reason I haven't been able to get a very good recording of his meyowling until now is because he tends to stop talking as soon as he sees me pointing the camera at him!
But I digress. Below is a video that includes some decent samples of Shadow's very interesting meyowl-squeak-nrrrrr sounds. Cora also pipes up a few times with her little "pleeeeeease!" howl -- both kitties were pleading with me to let them out onto the patio.
Also in addition to the meowing, this video includes some really cool instances of Catspeak body language between these two littermates. There's a really neat "hey sis", "hey bro", "what's up?" head-nose-rub thing partway through.
EDIT: The Siamese cat in this video (which I found randomly on Youtube):
...sounds a bit like Shadow. Similar inflection. I've always thought Shadow sounded a little Siamese-ish but I've also met a lot of Siamese cats who have a much deeper voice. Like many things I'm sure it depends on the individual cat, and with feral-born "mutts" like my younger three you never know what interesting genetics might have gotten into the mix!
Anyway, I have been trying for a while now to get a video (with audio) of Shadow's meowing. He has a very...unique sound. I have never in my life encountered a cat who sounds quite like he does. His meow is sort of this adorably discordant squeak-yell, combined with the occasional "disappointed R2-D2" sound. Of course I take his communications seriously and always try to figure out what he is trying to say, but it is pretty clear that sometimes he just wants acknowledgment. E.g., part of the reason I haven't been able to get a very good recording of his meyowling until now is because he tends to stop talking as soon as he sees me pointing the camera at him!
But I digress. Below is a video that includes some decent samples of Shadow's very interesting meyowl-squeak-nrrrrr sounds. Cora also pipes up a few times with her little "pleeeeeease!" howl -- both kitties were pleading with me to let them out onto the patio.
Also in addition to the meowing, this video includes some really cool instances of Catspeak body language between these two littermates. There's a really neat "hey sis", "hey bro", "what's up?" head-nose-rub thing partway through.
EDIT: The Siamese cat in this video (which I found randomly on Youtube):
...sounds a bit like Shadow. Similar inflection. I've always thought Shadow sounded a little Siamese-ish but I've also met a lot of Siamese cats who have a much deeper voice. Like many things I'm sure it depends on the individual cat, and with feral-born "mutts" like my younger three you never know what interesting genetics might have gotten into the mix!
Friday, June 11, 2010
Shadow Teaches Himself To Sit
...and I got it on video! See below:
Seriously, I have no idea why some people think cats are incapable of doing this kind of thing, or that they invariably "don't have the personality for it". Maybe that viewpoint is getting less common than it used to be, but still. This is easy stuff for Shadow.
I almost feel kind of weird doing stuff like this as I really don't want to...patronize him or anything, but the thing with him is that he seems to really enjoy this sort of "trick". It's a fun game for him, as he really enjoys communicating reciprocally (both with humans and with other cats) and he just seems so pleased with himself when he gets the treat!
(Also note Happy Tail-In-The-Air when I offer him another piece of chicken!)
Seriously, I have no idea why some people think cats are incapable of doing this kind of thing, or that they invariably "don't have the personality for it". Maybe that viewpoint is getting less common than it used to be, but still. This is easy stuff for Shadow.
I almost feel kind of weird doing stuff like this as I really don't want to...patronize him or anything, but the thing with him is that he seems to really enjoy this sort of "trick". It's a fun game for him, as he really enjoys communicating reciprocally (both with humans and with other cats) and he just seems so pleased with himself when he gets the treat!
(Also note Happy Tail-In-The-Air when I offer him another piece of chicken!)
Monday, April 12, 2010
A Note On Words And Their Uses As They Pertain To Cats
(1) When I use phrases like "my cats" in my writing, I do not mean to suggest that they are objects I "own".
Yes, I am responsible for them in many respects, but as they are living, sentient creatures, they are not really "ownable", at least as far as I'm concerned.
Hence, wording like "my cat" or "I have four cats" should be read here as similar to when people say "my sister" or "I have four cousins".
Also, I don't like the word "owner". I prefer to consider myself "my cats' human" in the same sense that said felines are "my cats".
(2) My personal definition of the word "person" most definitely includes members of the feline species. "Person", in my mind, is not necessarily synonymous with "human", but rather a term that when used connotes (for me at least) a certain measure of respect, and which acknowledges the sentience of the individual in question.
Of course I don't believe that cats perceive the world and interpret information exactly the same way humans do. But I also don't believe that humans have the monopoly on how to do self-awareness. Cats are different from us but that doesn't make them nonpersons.
Hopefully that makes sense. I know some people don't care about making such distinctions, but I do, so I figured I should explain.
Yes, I am responsible for them in many respects, but as they are living, sentient creatures, they are not really "ownable", at least as far as I'm concerned.
Hence, wording like "my cat" or "I have four cats" should be read here as similar to when people say "my sister" or "I have four cousins".
Also, I don't like the word "owner". I prefer to consider myself "my cats' human" in the same sense that said felines are "my cats".
(2) My personal definition of the word "person" most definitely includes members of the feline species. "Person", in my mind, is not necessarily synonymous with "human", but rather a term that when used connotes (for me at least) a certain measure of respect, and which acknowledges the sentience of the individual in question.
Of course I don't believe that cats perceive the world and interpret information exactly the same way humans do. But I also don't believe that humans have the monopoly on how to do self-awareness. Cats are different from us but that doesn't make them nonpersons.
Hopefully that makes sense. I know some people don't care about making such distinctions, but I do, so I figured I should explain.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
