Why Cats Can See Ghosts
An exceedingly short story that explains cat superpowers and how we should apply them to our lives
A few years ago, I woke up in the middle of the night thirsty enough to make a trip to the kitchen. I pulled the container of limeade out of the refrigerator, sat it on the counter, and was accosted by cats before I could find a glass.
The cats had a similar agenda. Considering that I had invaded their territory in the middle of the night, it was clear that I needed to take the time to provide them with snacks. I placed a few treats in front of each whining cat before the weirdness began.
Bear, the shy Bengal mix, started things off. Completely distracted, he stared into the adjoining den with such fixation that his brother Cheetah had no trouble stealing a couple of treats. This was strange in itself, as none will voluntarily cede any available snack.
Even stranger, Cheetah and newly adopted Kahne immediately followed suit; three normally rambunctious cats, standing perfectly still, not eating or begging- just staring into the den.
The den is recessed and relatively dark, while the kitchen is bright and well lit. All three peered into the darkness with the classic head tilt that curious cats master as kittens. This rapidly morphed into big-eyed-fear, accompanied by flattened ears, and subdued hissing- indications that a dangerous animal or perhaps an unruly sprit had chosen a bad time to invade the den.
Entirely uninterested in solving the mystery, the cats showed none of the curiosity traditionally attributed to the species. The larger brothers retreated behind the refrigerator, while the smaller stray chose to move around the counter, completely out of view of the den.
And then I became aware of the ethereal wailing, the scream of the Banshee that drove three felines into full retreat. The high-pitched howling whistle entered the sound spectrum at the absolute top end of my hearing and proceeded to drop in pitch over the next few seconds.
My first glance was towards the den because the cats had put on a rather convincing demonstration.
However, my ears rapidly redirected my eyes to the plastic container sitting on the countertop. As it warmed, refrigerated air leaked around the lid and it squeaked much like a balloon nozzle pinched by a small child. As expected, the sound stopped completely when I opened the container and poured my drink.
The cats slowly recognized that I had somehow identified and slayed the dangerous intruder.
Apparently, the hypersonic whistle had been perfectly projected via the den’s wood paneling, convincingly redirecting the sound from the top of the counter to six extra-sensitive ears located underneath.
The lesson for the human was obvious- our dark ages ancestors brought plague and death upon the world when they executed the most sensitive (and easily scared) ears in the house. By branding cats demonic, we gave rats (and their plague infected fleas) the opportunity to thrive.
So it’s good to consider our limitations and the potential to rush to judgment. Keeping in mind that our ears are less sensitive and eyewitness accounts often differ, perhaps we should question much of what we imagine absolute.
When I find myself excavating deep thoughts, I often consider cats and ghosts and seek a wider variety of sources and interpretations.
As far as our cats, I considered praising them for sensing what I couldn’t. It’s part of the package that practically guarantees that plague infested vermin will never find a foothold in our house.
But they already rule the castle and it seemed better to leave things the way they are- every once in a while a human proves useful for something other than dinner and it was nice to add ghost-busting to the resume.
Michael Stierhoff is a writer, business analyst and musician focused on discovering truth that helps everyone grow.
C2002 M.K.Stierhoff
