I am the proud father to a beautiful Tabby cat named Copper. She is six years old. I adopted her from an animal shelter, rescuing her from three years of misery living in a 3 x 6 wire-rimmed cage.
Our life together in Queens, New York these past three years has been great. But I recently made what some would call a fascinating, nay miraculous discovery. Copper speaks English! Or at least she understands it.
It happened about two weeks ago. I was lying on my Queen-sized bed with Copper, and she was lying next to me. I was stroking her belly, which she loves, and singing to her.
“Hush little kitty don’t say a word, papa’s gonna buy you a Mockingbird.”
Suddenly an idea struck me. I had noticed over the years that Copper, like many cats, would shake her tail up and down when she was happy, or sad, or angry, or any other range of emotions. Now that she was lying on her side next to me, with her tail flat on the bed, I asked her a question:
“Copper, honey? Do you like living here?”
Immediately her tail began vigorously shaking up and down.
Phew! At least now I was certain she was content in my apartment.
I forged ahead with the questions.
“Copper, sweetheart, do you like music?”
This question was of particular importance because I’m an avid music lover and I play all types of music on my Google Home all hours of the night.
There was a half-second pause and then her tail started shaking again.
Cool! So she likes music but maybe doesn’t love it. Me and Copper can still continue to rock out to some tunes, but I’ll mix in some other activities too.
My final question was somewhat of an experiment, to see whether she really knew what I was saying.
“Copper, pumpkin, do you like dogs?”
No movement whatsoever from her tail, and no noise or meowing whatsoever.
Interesting.
So she likes music, she likes living with me, and she doesn’t care for dogs.
That about sums up cats.
Happy Thanksgiving from Charles and Copper.
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