I Cannot Speak Cat

In case I’ve never mentioned it, at one time or another I have studied various languages other then my native English: Latin, German, Greek, Hebrew, French, and Arabic. I am fluent in none of them. However, I do possess and am able to navigate various dictionaries, grammars, and lexicons related to those languages. Those are basically worthless skills if I can’t communicate with a person who speaks one of those languages.

Recently I have decided there is another language I need to learn: Cat. I know that we humans acknowledge Cat as a language made up of meows and purrs. However, the longer I live with Alex the more I realize that those meows and purrs, not to mention the occasional screech—especially when one unintentionally steps on Alex’s tail—have unique meanings in Cat language.

For example, there is a “meow” that I believe means “no.” This meow is somewhat drawn out and sounds a bit like a human whine. Alex usually speaks this word when he jumps up on his eating table and I pour dry cat food into his feeding dish rather than the Friskies Fine Cuts that he prefers. He gazes up at me with a pitiful look on his face (whoever suggested that cat faces aren’t expressive?) and says, “meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooooow” in a tone reminiscent of a dirge. I respond by looking down at him and saying, “That’s all I have for you. Eat it.” He then repeats the word in the same tone, but a bit shorter, as in “meeeeeooooow” and may demonstrate his displeasure by using his paw to push his feeding dish off his table and onto the floor.

In my quest to learn Cat language I realize that Alex has already taught me quite a bit, especially during those times when he reinforces his verbal messages with non-verbal actions. I must add that most of those non-verbal messages relate to power—the power Alex has over me. For example, this evening I walked out to my garage to look for something I thought I had left in my car. Alex followed me into the garage and, when I was ready to leave, I opened the door and said, “Come on, Alex.” Like the exceptional housemate that he is, he began walking toward me. But before he reached me and the door, he sat down, lifted his leg, and began licking the spot where his scrotum would have been had I not had him “fixed” when he was a kitten. Not wanting to lock him in the garage, I repeated, “Come on, Alex! Now!” To which Alex replied, “Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooooow” as he continued licking.

I walked toward my defiant feline friend and, before I could reach down and grab and lift him up by the nap of his neck (as his mommy used to do), Alex scampered under my car. Eventually he did agree to leave the garage, but only after he let me know with his body language and a couple of unintelligible (at least to me) words that he was doing so of his own free will and not because I had called him.

I truly believe that Alex can understand every word that I say; I only wish I could understand the words he speaks. So, if you know of a dictionary, grammar, or lexicon related to the language Cat, please let me know.