I wonder how cats feel about us not having claws. I know they know it and I like to imagine they are amused by it and that they enjoy our teethless and scratchless affection. I also wonder what they think about our size and whether they compare it to their size and in turn to the size of smaller animals they come in contact with (insects, mice etc). They are so accurate in measuring distance (before jumping for instance) I can’t help thinking they must have a concept of size (another measurement of distance?). I also wonder what they think when we pick them up higher than they can jump. I presume they enjoy it from the purrs and from the way they seem to demand this sometimes. But what goes through their minds as they are picked up by clawless furless unmeowing giants? How is it that affection (and love too perhaps) seems to cross species lines?
We are creatures who can offer cats nothing (no communication, no hunting together, no licking their furs, no mating) and everything (food, shelter, clean litter). I asked myself many times if we’re just keeping them captive. But then in the summer when they were free to roam during the day, had they chosen to leave, we’d never find them. Yet perhaps they couldn’t “choose” to leave because the appeal of ready food was too high. Of course in my human way, I read this as their craving for our affections. Still it’s neat and strange how we coexist without communication and understanding, remaning forever affectionate strangers. What could we learn from this if we were to reinvent human relationships?