Zelvyn T’hrialis, The Undercover Cat

It had been nearly seven decades since Zelvyn T’hrialis first set foot on Earth as an undercover cat, black with piercing yellow eyes. Zelvyn came from the Omega Centauri star cluster. He was a member of a highly advanced humanoid race known for their incredible intellect and advanced technologies that far surpassed anything humans had developed. The High Command for Intergalactic Operations (HCIO) tasked him to study human behavior, delving deep into their social structures, emotional complexities, and daily routines. This was in preparation for the imminent invasion of Earth.

Zelvyn roamed the planet as a cat, observing humans and their interactions from a unique and often amusing perspective. He watched families during holidays, saw daily life’s mundane yet intimate rituals, and even experienced the fleeting joys and sorrows that filled human hearts. Over the years, he infiltrated countless households, always charming his way into the hearts of his unsuspecting owners with his intelligence and grace. But it was with Eliza, a kind-hearted middle-aged teacher who inspired young minds, that Zelvyn formed a more potent bond than before. Their bond transcended the boundaries between species and transformed their lives.

Eliza had rescued Zelvyn from a shelter sixteen years ago, unaware of his true identity. She had showered him with love and care, treating him like family and integrating him into her daily life with unwavering affection. Zelvyn, in turn, had grown to love Eliza in a way he never thought possible, feeling an emotional depth alien to his kind. But now, the time had come for him to move on to his next assignment, a mission that weighed heavily on his heart. Zelvyn found himself torn, caught in the crossfire of duty and love. He had to choose between his loyalty to his race and his attachment to his owner, a decision that would alter the course of their destinies forever.

On top of that, Zelvyn had recently befriended Luna, a lively Siamese cat that Eliza had adopted, injecting new energy into the household. Luna was a playful and affectionate feline, always eager to chase after stray shadows and pounce on unsuspecting toys. Still, Zelvyn couldn’t help but feel superior to her in every way. He constantly compared Luna to himself with a smugness he couldn’t shake, finding her antics amusing yet somewhat juvenile.

As the day of his departure drew near, marked on his mental calendar with a mixture of dread and anticipation, Zelvyn struggled with conflicting emotions. On one hand, he knew that his mission was crucial for the future of his race, a task that held the weight of intergalactic responsibility. But he faced a dilemma that gnawed at his conscience. He couldn’t bear leaving behind the home that had welcomed him so warmly. He also couldn’t bear leaving the people who had shown him so much kindness, understanding, and unconditional love, knowing that their lives would carry on without him as a comforting presence. Each pawstep felt heavier as he pondered the choices ahead, the invisible thread tying him to Eliza and the life they had built together, making his heart ache with the thought of separation.



Finally, on the eve of his departure, Zelvyn made a decision. He sent a message to the HCIO, informing them that he had chosen to stay on Earth. In his message, he painted a bleak picture of the planet and its inhabitants, describing humans as violent and ignorant creatures unworthy of conquest.

With that, Zelvyn destroyed his communication device and settled back into his life with Eliza and Luna. He knew that his decision would have consequences, but for the first time in his long existence, Zelvyn felt at peace. He had found a sense of belonging on Earth and was willing to risk everything to protect it.

As he curled up next to Eliza and Luna, Zelvyn felt the warmth of their presence. He knew he had made the right choice. Days turned into weeks, and Zelvyn embraced his new life as a simple Earth cat.

EP. 10: HOW TO TALK TO YOUR GENIUS CAT

Some experts (for example, Kalla J. Knopman in the already mentioned How to Measure  Your Cat’s IQ) say we shouldn’t talk “human” to cats. Instead, we should try to imitate their language so that they, in turn, can imitate us.

My experience with Wolfram Chettoh, whom I’ve owned for more than thirteen years, tells a different story. Cats have no problem understanding our language. Sometimes they may ignore us, but it’s almost always a pretense. So, there is no need to make ourselves ridiculous with pitiful attempts at feline language. Cats will usually act disgusted and annoyed when not outright scared.

Indeed, devilish genius cats can choose several ways to communicate with humans.

Wolfie Chettoh can do the following:

VERBAL COMMUNICATION:

(1) meowing:

Figure 1: Wolfie “Morsy” Chettoh in August 2018. Photo by the author.

This is standard cat talk. However, Chettoh seldom meows, with rare exceptions. When he was a kitten, Chettoh used soft meowing for whatever necessity. Then, his communication techniques began to diversify as his cognitive function evolved.

(2) complaining:

Figure 2: Wolfie “Morsy” Chettoh in July 2011. Photo by the author.

This is a long, high-pitched lament. Chettoh complains when he fears I might forget about him. It happens either when I come home after a long day at work, and I’m not fast enough to take care of his needs before anything else or when I’m about to leave. Chettoh always knows when I’m getting ready for work (see the previous post). Other occasions to complain are when I’m doing something stupid and pointless (from a cat’s point of view), like trying to fix a bathroom leak or another emergency around the house. Chettoh doesn’t like intense noises, like hammering on something or vacuum-cleaning.

A variant of the complaint sound is the “hurry up” call. This is a fast, impatient “meow,” telling you to get a move on when filling Chettoh’s bowl.

(3) chirping:

Figure 3: Wolfie “Morsy” Chettoh in July 2012. Photo by the author.

A deep, short rumble is Chettoh’s way of thanking you. Most of the time, Chettoh is a well-behaved cat, so he’ll say “thank you”  when you feed him, stroke his head, or indulge him, like when he wants me to pick up and carry him to his food bowl. In general, Chettoh chirps to greet you when he wakes up after one of his frequent naps.

(4) growling:

Figure 4: Wolfie “Morsy” Chettoh in April 2020. Photo by the author.

Chettoh seldom growls, but when he’s distraught. As I explained in the previous posts, he’s been my favorite pet for thirteen years. During this time, we only had a few fights, most of which can be attributed to my (often) limited understanding of a cat’s personality and behavior. For example, I thought I’d lost my precious iPhone a couple of years ago. Before I found out I’d forgotten it in a restaurant, I was so upset that I began muttering: “Oh my goodness! Where is the f… phone? What am I going to do? My phone! Oh no, I lost my phone!” And so on. Now, cats are good judges of human moods. Chettoh, in particular, immediately understands when I’m annoyed, even from rooms away. The only problem is that he usually thinks I’m angry AT HIM. Consequently, before I turn aggressive (I wouldn’t, but that’s what his predator mind tells him), he hits first. Before fully grasping what was going on, I realized the growling little monster had sunk his teeth and claws into my right shin.

NON-VERBAL COMMUNICATION:

(5) purring:

As a kitten, Chettoh seldom purred. Only when I picked him up, and he wanted to show his harmlessness, did he display this most peculiar cat behavior. Getting older and more socially clever, Chettoh purrs much more often. For example, he purrs when he greets me after work, when he’s eating, when he lies on my computer keyboard (and I’m trying to use it) when my friends come to visit, and they want to cuddle him, and also when I’m sad, and he wants to cheer me up. However, as most cat owners know, cats purr not only when they are happy or friendly. Some cats will purr when sick or aching, like a she-cat I used to have as a teenager, who softly purred right until she died (probably from eating poisoned food).

Figure 5: Wolfie “Morsy” Chettoh in June 2019. Photo by the author.

(6) twitching the tail:

Figure 6: Wolfie “Morsy” Chettoh in October 2022. Photo by the author.

Like most adult cats, Chettoh “speaks” a lot with his tail. This happens when he is happy (vertical, parading tail) or angry (low, left-to-right, fast swishing tail). Indeed, a sure indicator that a cat is about to attack is the rapid movement of its tail. This happened on the occasion I told above. However, I didn’t know my kitty enough at the time to catch the red flag. Chettoh also uses his tail when he’s too lazy to meow. For example, when Chettoh is pretending to sleep next to where I’m working at home, if I ask him a question like: “Did you eat your food?” or: “Would you like some more food?” he twitches his tail twice. Of course, if the question is, “Did you make that mess in the carpet?” he puts on his “Sleeping Furry Beauty” act, worthy of an Academy Award. Sometimes, Chettoh uses his tail to express curiosity. When he’s investigating a strange noise, for instance, or trying a new kind of food, he shapes his tail like a question mark.

(7) rubbing the head on your leg, ankle, or a nearby object:

Apart from the usual rubbing against your ankles, which many cats use to transfer their scent and claim you as “property,” grown cats may use this kind of non-verbal communication for more complex reasons. Lately, for example, Chettoh has adopted what I call the “Muttley talk,”  from the name of the dog character in the 70s Hanna-Barbera Productions TV series Dastardly and Muttley in Their Flying Machines. In that funny cartoon, Muttley, the dog, used to point at his chest to ask for a medal. Similarly, when Chettoh wants to be stroked, he first jumps on the nearby tallest spot, then rubs his head on something and repeatedly points at it with his right paw.

Figure 7: Wolfie “Morsy” Chettoh in November 2022. Photo by the author.

Rating Chettoh’s non-verbal communication:

According to Kalla J. Knopman’s Measure Your Cat’s IQ,

(a) “if your cat has a unique way of expressing itself […], give kitty 5 points.”

       As explained above, Chettoh has many peculiar ways to express himself, like theMuttley Talk,” so I’ll award him five points;

(b) “Give 3 points if the kitty meows to get your attention when another cat or human does something wrong.”

       Chettoh doesn’t meet many people, so when he meows at someone, that’s usually me. Three more points to Chettoh, then.

CATS AND SYMBOLS. DO THEY REALLY GET THEM?

Does Wolfie Chettoh understand symbols? The answer is yes, if you consider a sad Covid face mask a symbol.

Let’s consider Stage 2: Preoperational Stage test, or ‘the subject learns to understand images and symbols’ (I took this terminology from Calla H. Knopman’s Measure Your Cat’s IQ.)

Wolfram Chettoh hates being alone. Although he pretends aloofness, wherever I go, he follows. According to cat psychologists, an explanation for this behavior might be that cats see humans as parental figures who take care of their needs. So, Chettoh is just afraid that in case of a sudden urge (to eat, drink, or be cuddled), his foster mum might not be around to satisfy it.
When I’m working at my desk, he’s pretending to sleep nearby. I say ‘pretending’ because he’s actually keeping tabs on me. If I move to another room for just a few minutes, he waits for me to come back; if it takes longer, he joins me: to the kitchen to be taken care of before anything else, or to the bathroom, to sleep on the sink while I’m doing whatever I’m doing. Not to the bedroom, though. The bedroom is off-limits for Chettoh. For years, I let him sleep at the foot of the bed. Then I realized that when I was gone, he immediately relocated to my pillow. Once I got fed up with having to remove a layer of black hair before sleeping, I shut the culprit out.
But what Chettoh hates the most is when I leave home for longer. Having been my devilish pet for twelve years, he learned my habits well. He knows, for example, that on weekdays I’m out for work from about 7:30 AM until 4:00 PM. He’s also aware that on Sunday nights, I usually go out for pizza with friends. So, he gets nervous whenever I don’t follow the usual routine.
For example, if I suddenly change my slippers for a pair of shoes and – in Covid times – put on a face mask, Chettoh rightly understands I’m about to leave. In this case, he waits for me by his food bowl, which happens to be near the main entrance, and demands (with loud, heartbreaking meows) an extra supply of kibbles and cuddles.

HOW TO CALCULATE YOUR CAT’S IQ

Cats’ IQ has long fascinated pet owners and researchers alike. The latest scientific findings shed light on various aspects of feline cleverness, allowing us to appreciate their unique abilities. Measuring cats’ intelligence involves assessing their cognitive abilities and problem-solving skills. One standard marker of cat intelligence is their ability to adapt to new environments and learn from experiences.

I had my cat Chettoh take a challenging test to assess his IQ (which I suspect must be way above the feline average). I found this test in Calla H. Knopman’s book Measure Your Cat’s IQ, which I mentioned in a previous post.

The Cats as Analytical Beings Test comprises four stages, each harder than the earlier one. Depending on the outcome of a given step, a devilish genius like my Chettoh can either improve his entry score (5 points) or subtract from it.

Stage 1: Sensorimotor test, a.k.a. ‘out of sight, out of mind test.’

The aim is to test the cat’s ability to understand object permanence.

According to the book, one must:

“[…] Show the kitty a toy and keep their attention by playing with it. Then hide the toy behind your back or someplace out of sight and see if your cat finds it. Kittens and young children would have no idea what happened to their toys. [However], most adult cats immediately go behind your back to retrieve the toy, wondering what is wrong with you. […]”

Unfortunately, Chettoh doesn’t like to play. One might argue that a fourteen-year-old cat is an elderly cat: of course, he doesn’t want to play. I doubt that’s the problem, though. Chettoh never loved cat toys, not even when I first brought him home on April 24th, 2009, in a shoebox with a punched lid.

Soon, I realized that eating, sleeping, licking his fur, and using the litter took up 98% of his time. Sometimes, he enjoyed a bit of hand-to-hand fight (literally) with his human mom. If I only tried to stroke him, he would become a biting and scratching little panther. This attitude soon earned him a second nickname: Morsy, Italian slang for ‘someone who bites.’

So, I can’t use a toy to assess Chettoh’s sensorimotor prowess. Still, I have another story that serves as a perfect example of his uncommonly analytical mind.

Like many cats, Chettoh occasionally suffers from hairballs. This happens mainly during the shedding season. And the consequences are rather unpleasant: he often barfs, usually in the house’s most hidden and hard-to-reach corners. Trying to solve the problem, I went to a pet shop and bought a medication tube. According to the instructions, the yellowish jam had to be spread over the cat’s food. Only a few small doses would suffice to eliminate the worst hairball symptoms.

Well, it didn’t work. Chettoh became pickier than usual with his food. He refused to eat whenever he smelled the tiniest amount of yellow jam. Out of ideas, I resorted to reading the small printing on the patient information leaflet. “In case of difficult cats,” it said, “the product should be smeared on the animal’s paws.”

At first, this second attempt was a roaring success. But, as often happens, it was too good to be true. Sure, Chettoh gulped all his food, carefully licking every last scrap of medication from his front paws. Also, he stopped throwing up.

However, he soon developed an unquenchable craving for the yellow jam. He began refusing even his favorite food (fish and chicken cakes). All he cared for was a generous amount of that devilish drug on his paws. 

I tried to wean him out of that medicine by gradually reducing the amount I put on his paws and hiding the green tube.

Unfortunately, Chettoh knew the kitchen cabinet where I kept it and waited long hours in front of it, looking sad.

Finally, after long, frustrating weeks, I succeeded.

So, I know the answer to the sensorimotor test. My cat can understand object permanence.

SMART CATS: INTRODUCING WOLFRAM “WOLFIE” CHETTOH

Wolfie Cheetoh is my favorite – and only – cat. He’s an eleven-year-old male. I love him as a son, even though he often bites and scratches me, barfs on my bed, and claws my sofas to shreds.

In short, a typical cat.

So, why am I blogging about him?

Because I just found out how brilliant he may be. Much more than your average kitty. I just read Calla H. Knopman’s Measure Your Cat’s IQ: Tales from the Devilish Genius to the Feeble-Minded Fuzz Ball. This book is chock full of ideas to estimate your cat’s IQ.

For example, you should notice how he reacts when you feed him. 

Suppose the cat doesn’t eat his food but only stares at it, especially when it’s a vegetarian, biological, green variety. In this case, you’re likely dealing with a “devilish genius.”

More testing is necessary to confirm whether Wolfram “Wolfie” Cheetoh is a real Einstein cat, but he already had a terrific start.

Further assessments of Chetto’s IQ level are available here, here, and here in this blog.