There seems to be one thing the Purrsons don’t quite understand about cats. And that is the Tail.
We are proud of our tails – but this does not mean we would look down upon cats with bobtails (now, that IS a tail after all, even if a short one), and we do understand the body language of tailless cats.
But personally my plume of a Tail is my crowning glory. I spend considerable time grooming it, and carry it proudly up in the air.
And here’s the thing the Purrson’s don’t understand about the Tail: it has a life of its own. It observes the surroundings for us and has a will of its own.
Mommy notices this when she is having her morning coffee and I hop to her lap. I stand first on my legs and head-butt Mommy to show my approval and affection. At the same time the Tail observes its surroundings and bends to see interesting things closer. Not my fault Mommy chooses to put her coffee mug right at the edge of the table. She should know better, having observed Tail behavior since she was eight years old.
So the Tail bends towards the table. Always. It brushes against what ever is within reaching distance. And that means the coffee mug too. Usually Mommy snatches the mug away and makes disapproving noises when my wet tail drips coffee on her white bathrobe and wets whatever she happends to be reading in paper form.
Now it would be ME who should make disapproving noises – my Tail is now wet, and washing it is not a pleasant thing, because coffee simply tastes BAD. Also who in their right minds would wear a white bathrobe in a household of three red cats? (Or a black one for that matter – it seems I need to give a talking-to to Daddy as well).
But I forgive and settle in her lap (well, settle and settle… the amount of inner peace is directly proportional to the amount of yummy munchies on the table, where I now have unobstructed view to, which was the point of hopping to Mommy’s lap all along.)
And then there is the living room table. These coffee tables are very low, which is a good thing from a cat’s perspective. But not from the Tail’s. Because now, when we walk past the furniture in question, our back is at the level of the table top. And this means that the whole time we are walking the narrow corridor between the couch and the table, our Tail is doing reconnaissance work. Namely bending over the table top. And what do Purrsons have there? More drinking glasses!
My Tail has now tasted coffee (BAD), tea (usually bitter), wine (hmm…), water (the only real drink), fruit juices (not to my liking), milk (to my liking) and soft drinks (Soft? What on earth is soft about them?).
I do try to keep the Tail content and clean it after these incidences, as it seems the Purrsons never learn to respect the Tail. Some of them even pull cats by the tail, can you believe such disrespect? And thus it has been for a long time, if the Secret Code of Cats is to be believed. And as all cats know, SCC never makes mistakes.
But we do our best to teach Purrsons about the language of the Tail. We hug with it, we question with it, we show our emotions with it. And yes – we do reconnassaince work with it. A most valuable and respected body part.
Maybe Purrsons would understand it better, if Evolution had not snipped off their tail. I do not know who this Evolution guy is, but I do not he did a great disservice to the Purrson kind. This is why we show our sympathy towards Purrsons when they misread the behavior of our Tails. After all – they are handicapped without a Tail of their own.
Oh, and my Tail has a name too. Fluffy.
Rolli the Somali Cat with Fluffy the Tail