I think I’m going “Cat Shit.” You probably heard of someone going “Bat Shit.” But I’m here to tell you that I’ve gone “Cat Shit” and this is the reason why:
My son’s cat, Daniel, has developed some ESP skills. Extraordinary Sensing People skills.
He is the smartest of the kittens born some eight to nine months ago. My son Nicholas kept them hidden from me. Jack and Daniel, that is. Nicholas lived on the third floor in a room he painted black and once kept a scorpion as a pet. I never went in the room after that, granting him the privacy a twenty-something young man deserved.
He moved out months ago, and left the cats for me to raise. Well, Jack is the fluffy one, the heavy-set big eater. He is very lovable but quite dumb for a cat.
Daniel is smart and is a risk-taker, able to get into the cellar and up through a crawl space and into my first floor kitchen by squeezing through a crack in the floor. Amazing!
He is the brightest cat I have ever seen, bar none.
Well, he communicated with me yesterday evening. Not once, but twice. I was watching a movie, a 2014 show with Al Pacino playing a aging locksmith who still pines for a love he had some 30 years earlier. The character in the movie “Manglehorn,” also has a cat that accidentally swallows one of his keys.
Pacino takes the cat to a vet and the camera slowly provides a close-up of the operation. The cat’s belly is shaved and numbing liquid applied as the doctor cuts the skin and pulls out fatty tissue that has enveloped the small key preventing the animal from eating and digesting its food properly.
Just as the veterinarian cuts the spot, Daniel screeches a chilling meow, one as loud as a siren blasting in the night. The cat never meows. But last night he did at the most painful part of the movie.
Now, fast-forward another hour. I am now watching a movie with Bill Murray providing the voice to that lovable fat cat named “Garfield.” Just as I settle in with the snow storm outside finishing up, Daniel pounces at the television, climbing the table where the TV rests, and claws at the screen as high as his one and a half foot frame can reach with his both of his paws.
What gives? Why is he scratching at the television, I wonder. Could it have been in response to the real cats shown in the movie. Could he have not only see a fellow feline, but want to approach it via the television?
I don’t have any answers. But what I have said is the honest truth. Something beyond my comprehension is at work here. I believe this cat has powers beyond the ordinary.
I’ll never be able to look at him in the same way, wondering if he has some psychic ability hidden away in one of his nine lives.
I just posted it under Musings on my site: cassandracalls.wordpress.com/musings/
You have inspired me to write about my cat experience of 1/22/2016 (just prior to the big snow).
I look forward to it with a cat’s eye view of your world!
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Thank you for the motivation to write about this event! 🙂
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