The Gravity Of Cats
Scientists would do well to study the common house cat to unlock the mysteries of the universe.
I say common, but as it turns out, there is nothing common about a house cat. They are master manipulators of gravity, time and space.
Belle, a grey striped tabby who acquired us when she was kitten, is no exception. She’s about a year old and weighs about 10 pounds. Yet, when she hops on my belly in the morning to remind me it’s time for breakfast, weighs closer to 100.
PRO TIP: If you want to be your cat’s favorite person, just reach for a bag of treats.
Cats can perform amazing feats of acrobatics. Belle climbs her cat tree with ease and makes impossible direction changes when overtaken by the rips. The day we brought Belle into our home, she was half-grown, scrawny, under-fed and frightened. She made a leap from the sink on one side of the bathroom to land lightly on the shower curtain rod on the other that was nothing short of impossible.
Much of this can be attributed to a cat’s lithe, muscular, flexible bodies, but the secret sauce is the ability to control of gravity.
When cats want to take light, silent steps they dial gravity to Stealth Mode to leave no trace of their passing when stalking prey, such as the elusive butter dish or a pork chop left carelessly on the counter- for a cat knows any human alerted to any feline trespass, will rush in to interrupt the hunt with a rude scolding.
It’s an age-old dance between cats and humans, one in which the advantage clearly goes to the counter surfing cat. Cats have finely tuned early warning system that gives them time to clear off before they’re caught. This is a favorite game with Belle. She deliberately makes a suspicious sound in the kitchen and when I go to investigate, I find her watching me from the floor, sitting with head tilted as I scold her- “Counters are not for kitties!” Of course, I can prove nothing and she knows it.
Just as cats can dial back gravity to wrap their nefarious activities in stealth, they also crank it to remind us, yes- there is a cat in our home. When we’re down in our basement to watch a little TV, a rumble will come from upstairs that shakes the house. A stampeding herd of bison charging from room to room? No. Just a small cat with the rips, running and sun fishing over our heads. With her gravity turned up to Juggernaut Mode.
Nothing is as pleasant or soothing as to have Belle nestled on my chest, purring as I sleep. When waking up in the morning to this warm, snuggly soft sensation, it’s natural to think this is a sign of her trust and affection.
Instead, she’s mapping the location of my internal organs and scanning their condition. The purr sends gravity waves through my body and Belle reads them with the finely tuned sensors in her foot pads. (This is where the Cat Scan got its name.) Then, thirty seconds before my alarm clock goes off, she steps precisely on my full bladder with all of her gravity enhanced body mass. As I head to the bathroom, she swats my ankles to remind me her breakfast comes first.
Cats can warp time and space. They practice amusing themselves by opening portals in the space/time continuum into inaccessible places, such as rafters, crawl spaces, cabinets, wardrobes, subfloors and the engine compartments of cars parked in the garage. This is an important skill for a cat playing hide & seek with its owner, particularly 15 minutes before the scheduled visit to the vet’s. Or when someone discovers the front door was left open and no one has seen the cat since lunch.
Belle uses her ability to warp space/time in clever ways. Her favorite is the ability to store large objects hidden on or (more importantly) in the body. It’s called “Hammer Space”, a place from which Bugs Bunny pulls large mallets to flatten unsuspecting victims.
Belle has a different use for Hammer Space. A cat that can control gravity doesn’t need a hammer to remind her owner it’s time for breakfast. Indeed, it’s more important to have space in which to store that breakfast. Why not use Hammer Space as a stomach instead? Belle will pack away twice her normal body weight in cat chow, lick her whiskers and demand a treat. She’s like a Hobbit- “What about second breakfast? Elevensies? That’s my bacon.”
People complain about their cats being picky eaters. They devise elaborate strategies to get their finicky felines to finish their feast. Our concern is how to drop the bowl without losing a finger. As soon as it touches the floor, she pounces and heaven help anyone in her way! Even with her Hammer Space stomach, I wonder, where does she find the space to put it all…?
…until it comes time to clean the litter box.
