The Cat Whisperer
My wife and I were doing some shopping in Little Tokyo when we almost bumped into this old Asian lady coming out of a store. Well, “old” isn’t the right word. She was about 65 or so. At that golden period of life where you don’t have to work anymore and are still young enough to be able to enjoy it. And enjoying it she was. She strolled out of a store with a spring in her step wearing a holiday sweater with a dog on it.
Now, an Asian lady, no matter her age, isn’t something usually I’d take note of in Little Tokyo. Not even one in a dog sweater. However, when this lady passed us, she had an orange tabby cat in tow. The cute little creature trotted behind her with its tail raised high in the air like a periscope. Something on the ground distracted the cat, and it stopped to sniff the object. When the lady noticed, she called out to the cat from 10–15 yards away. The cat looked up and ran up to its owner.
My jaw dropped. My wife and I have two cats, and neither of them listens to a damned thing we say. Every command requires a stern verbal directive and a helpful nudge on the bottom, with the latter likely being the actual reason for compliance. Meanwhile, this lady had managed not only to get her cat to listen to her, but to do so in public. My wife and I joke about taking our cats out for a walk, but we know they’ll dart away and we’d spend the whole “walk” chasing them around. How did this lady do it?
I decided the secret to her powers was sorcery, some technique or enchantment from the Old World. Or maybe it wasn’t even a real cat at all but a projection of her soul into the mortal plane. I started to approach her to ask her for details, but she shot me an unusual look that froze me in place. It wasn’t mean, but it definitely wasn’t pleasant either. Its message was clear: Don’t. And so I didn’t. Who knows what other powers this lady had. Perhaps she could turn me into a frog or shapeshift into a wolf and eat me for breakfast. No sense testing her. Better safe than sorry, right?
Still, it would’ve been nice to have learned a thing or two about cat whispering. Especially since as I write this my cat has been sitting on my wrists like furry handcuffs. I could move him, but he’s fast asleep. Poor kitty. Actually, maybe it’s poor me, the victim of my cat’s human whispering. Hmmmm. This definitely warrants further investigation. Right after my cat wakes up and decides I can leave.