The Cat Whisperer

 The Cat Whisperer

A horse whisperer got his own book and movie. 

Maybe being a cat whisperer doesn't have quite the same panache.

 

 

But I live with a cat whisperer. And I know a couple of other cat whisperers in training. Robert Redford: Eat your heart out. You were just playing a role. I know the real deal.

 

I'll have you know that I googled "cat whisperer," and it's actually a thing. If National Geographic thinks so, then I believe it. 

Georgia Mason, a behavioral biologist at the University of Guelph in Canada, says that people who can consistently decode feline expressions belong to a special clan: That of the cat whisperer. For the research, Mason and colleagues created an online survey and invited internet users to take part. The 6,329 participants from 85 countries watched between two to 20 short videos of cat expressions, and then responded if they thought the felines were distressed or happy. These random users got an average of 11.85 out of 20 ratings correct—better than chance, but not by much.

 

But about 13 percent of the survey takers were unusually skilled at reading cats’ emotions, scoring at least 15 out of 20 correct—the so-called cat whisperers. (Are you a cat whisperer? Take this shortened version of the interactive quiz.)

 

I don't need a quiz to know that Randy is a cat whisperer.  The latest additions to the cat population at The County Line are Cookie and Pepper. Can you guess who gave them their names?

 

 

For the record, Pepper has some black dots above its mouth. But you can definitely tell they are siblings.

They were born in October - a litter of four - at the other farm house.

As we would arrive for farm work and later for feeding cattle, we enjoyed watching them sneak in and out of hay bales as they got a little older and began to explore. 

Their mother is an expert mouser, which is quite a desirable trait in a farm cat. So we certainly hoped she was also teaching them some marketable skills between their rough-and-tumble sessions playing with each other and with their two all-black siblings. 

By the way, the black cat is not their mother, who looks more like Cookie and Pepper.

At the end of November, I was recruited to help with the great cat "burglary." Randy wanted to catch the two black and white kittens and bring them to our house. Kinley and Brooke were coming the first weekend in December for our family Christmas and for Lyle's ashes burial, so Randy had a timetable. Grandma Christy is known as a cat whisperer, too, but she has adult cats. We are the granddaughters' kitten connection. 

 

By that time, the kittens were hanging out near our tool shed. Randy brought a lawn chair. 

My job was to tell him when the kittens were peeking out from under shed, ready to grab another piece of cat food, despite the human sitting there. He would reach out and capture them.

It took a little bit, but the mission was eventually accomplished. 

It was then my job to drive Randy and the kittens back to our house so we didn't have a game of tag erupt in the pickup cab.

Randy introduced the youngsters to the County Line's top feline - Big Cat. 

I don't think Big Cat has as much disdain for the kittens as he does for me. (I always say that Big Cat gives me the evil eye.)

Randy made a nest with an old towel between the house and our back steps. And the kittens moved into their "studio apartment." On cold days, they have apartment overcrowding with Big Cat and Cozy taking up some real estate there, too.

I've not noticed that the kittens have picked up any bad habits regarding death stares from Big Cat. But he may be sad that he sometimes has to wait his turn for time on Randy's fluffy blanket on cold winter evenings.

Instead of taking lessons in attitude, it appears at least one of the cats is looking into a career as a centerfold.