People Think This Nebula Resembles A Smiling Cat, PLUS: What Kind Of Music Soothes Felines?

Your cat’s taste in music may or may not align with your own.

Before we get into today’s cat news, I received an email asking why there hasn’t been much Buddy on the site lately.

Fear not, friends of Buddy! The little guy is down in the Amazon visiting his jaguar pals, but he’ll be home in time for the most important holiday of the year, Turkey day. He wouldn’t miss it for the world!

Buddy with a jaguar buddy in the Amazon, where there’s a special felid conference on new napping techniques.

A smiling cat?!

A story on Space.com says people see a “smiling cat” in images of a nebula, although we’re not so sure.

The nebula in question is Sh2-284, or Sharpless 284. It spans about 150 light years and sits about 15,000 light years from our star system near the edge of the Milky Way, in an outer spiral arm.

From a certain orientation, there may be suggestions of cat-like ears and eyes, although if there is a smile, it’s crooked and deranged-looking. Maybe the cat’s on pain pills from the vet?

There’s an opportunity here, since the nebula doesn’t have a nickname. The Buddy Nebula has a nice ring to it!

Here’s an image from NASA:

This spectacular picture of the Sh2-284 nebula has been captured in great detail by the VLT Survey Telescope at ESO’s Paranal Observatory. Sh2-284 is a star formation region, and at its centre there is a cluster of young stars, dubbed Dolidze 25. The radiation from this cluster is powerful enough to ionise the hydrogen gas in the nebula’s cloud. It is this ionisation that produces its bright orange and red colours. This image is part of the VST Photometric Hα Survey of the Southern Galactic Plane and Bulge, led by Janet Drew at the University of Hertfordshire in the UK.

And here’s an annotated image from astrophotographer Jim Thommes that shows us what we’re looking at and the immediate galactic neighborhood:

In Star Trek there’s always a convenient nebula nearby when the Enterprise — or Voyager, Titan or Discovery — needs to “hide” from some well-armed belligerent, and science fiction in general creates the impression that they’re like space swamps.

In reality nebulas are regions where the interstellar medium — the space between stars — is filled with gas, cosmic dust and inert matter. Some are stellar nurseries — places where stars are “born” — and some are the remnants of dead stars and the planets that orbited them.

They can seem to glow red, orange, green or blue depending on the elements present. Some of them reflect starlight while others are like filters, with the gases and dust lending their color to the nebulae structure.

Cats are pretty well-represented in the cosmos, from a human perspective. From the cat’s paw nebula to the Cheshire Cat galaxies, to the Lynx, Leo and Leo Minor constellations, astronomers have seen cats in the sky for millennia.

Does music help cats relax?

Although the research is limited, some studies have indicated certain genres of music can help our little buddies chill out. And if research into the canine response to music is any indication, we should expect to see more evidence for cats enjoying tunes.

When it comes to what kind of music is most effective, studies point to classical music with a slow tempo, as well as reggae and soft rock “with simple rhythms, slower tempos and no heavy percussion,” according to a new story from the BBC.

Just listening to some meowsic!

A 2016 study looked at the effect of music on 12 female cats who were recovering from spay surgery. The research team played “three different genres of music: classical music (CM), ‘Adagio For Strings (Opus 11)’ by Samuel Barber; pop music (PM), ‘Torn’ by Natalie Imbruglia; and heavy metal (HM), ‘Thunderstruck’ by AC/DC.”

The team measured heart rate, breathing rate and pupil dilation, concluding that classical music was most effective, followed by the Imbruglia song and AC/DC last. (Maybe next time they can slide The Tony Danza Tapdance Extravaganza in there for some extra fun.)

Anecdotally, Bud did not respond well to composer David Teie’s Music for Cats, but he hangs out and nods along to funk, classic 90s New York hip hop, retrowave, nu-disco, reggae and certain kinds of rock, which is almost certainly because he grew up hearing that stuff with me.

So maybe there’s a nature vs nurture element to feline musical preferences, although I wouldn’t hold out hope for cats who enjoy the Tony Danza Tapdance Extravaganza. Some things are best left alone.

Do You Speak Cat? This Quiz Tests Knowledge Of Real Feline Language

Studies show most of us are pretty bad at interpreting our cats’ moods. A research team in Australia wants to change that.

Cats are constantly telling us how they feel, but many of us aren’t listening.

We’re not talking about chirping, trilling and meowing, although those are some of the ways our cats try to communicate with us.

While they might seem protective of their own thoughts and feelings, cats are actually transparent, and they can’t lie.* Their tails, ears, whiskers, facial expressions and body language all broadcast a cat’s mood.

The question is, are we picking up that broadcast?

In The Conversation, the University of Adelaide’s Julia Henning introduces us to a quiz she designed to answer that question, and invites us to take it.

The goal: to correctly assess each cat’s mood. What I liked most was that we’re asked to evaluate videos — clear, well-lit high resolution clips — instead of the low resolution stills that are often used for quizzes like this.

Sir Talks-a-lot

Henning has been studying the human-cat communication issue because when we misread cats, there’s a good chance we’re stressing them out. Henning and her team published the results of a study in September in which 368 participants from Australia were asked to evaluate a series of clips human-feline interaction.

It turns out they didn’t do so well at reading the signs that a cat is agitated, stressed or doesn’t want to play.

“For videos of cats who weren’t playing and were showing subtle negative cues (such as sudden tension in the body or avoiding touch), participants only recognised the negative cues about as well as chance (48.7%),” the authors of the study wrote.

Even when study participants correctly read a cat’s ears, tail, whiskers and body language, some of them indicated they’d do things that would unknowingly make a cat more agitated and stressed. A classic example is trying to pet a cat’s belly and misinterpreting their derpy way of trying to block you as a playful gesture.

Did you know? Approximately 96% of Buddy’s communication is related to yums.

In the paper, which was published in Frontiers in Ethology, Henning and her colleagues lay out the case for making sure we — the people who take care of cats — are sensitive to what our little buddies are feeling.

It’s not just about strengthening the bond, although that’s an important part. It’s about reducing stress and miscommunication, and increasing quality of life.

Cats are incredibly sensitive to our actions and moods because we are the most important living beings in their lives. We feed and house them, and we’re their pals. If we’re constantly subjecting them to play they don’t like or overstimulating them, they get stressed, and stressed cats can become depressed, sick or resentful cats.

If we want to make sure our buddies live their best lives, we have to understand what they’re trying to tell us.

(*) Except when it comes to food. When food is involved, these innocent, cute little furry creatures become master manipulators and can convince anyone they’re starving.

Note: The first version of this story linked to the study page twice when the first link should have pointed to the quiz. It’s fixed now, and email subscribers can follow the link through this version of the story. Apologies for the error.

Header image credit: cottonbro studio/Pexels

Naughty Felines: The Cat Chef And The ‘Wake Up And Play With Me’ Technique

A California cat tries her paw at culinary creations, while a video of a void demonstrates the power of feline persistence when it comes to annoying their people into doing their bidding.

Who says cats don’t love their people?

A California cat named Wendy decided to add a little, uh, flavor to her family’s dinner.

When Wendy’s human mom walked back into the kitchen after feeding the family’s dogs, Wendy’s odd behavior prompted her to check an internal camera to see what the tabby was up to.

The footage showed Wendy dropping a dead mouse into the pot.

The foster fail’s humans, however, didn’t appreciate Wendy’s special ingredient.

“As you can guess,” Wendy’s human “mom” told a local TV news station, “it was takeout for dinner that night.”

Wake up, humans!

Anyone who claims cats are oblivious to the people they live with has never really spent much time around the little stinkers.

This void cat knows precisely how to annoy her people to the point where they give up on sleep and get up to feed her:

Which is interesting to me because that’s precisely what Bud used to do, with two key differences: 1) He’d raise and slam the flap to his litter box, which had a distinct creak from the joints, 2) He didn’t do it to get food, since he already gets a bowl of dry food and fresh water just before bedtime.

He did it to wake me up so we could hang out and be amigos.

If I succumbed to his assault of annoyingness, he’d give me a “Mrrrrrp!” like he was saying “Right on, dude. Righteous! So I’m gonna lay on your chest with my nose two inches away from yours and just, like, stare at you all creepy-like while you scratch my head, deal?”

I’ve since replaced that litter box with one that also has a cover, but no flap. I regret that decision, because now Bud just stands on my face and shrieks “MRRRRAAAHHH!!! MMMRRRAAAHHH!” into my ear.

I should have known there’s no winning with our feline overlords.

Amazing Cats: Ocelots Love Trees, Water And Calvin Klein’s Obsession For Men

Ocelots, one of the western hemisphere’s most adaptable cat species, are often mistaken for young jaguars.

In 1999 biologists from the Dallas Zoo were lending a hand on a project to monitor and protect America’s ocelots, who primarily range in southern Texas.

With limited resources, the team was trying to keep the wild cats in a protected area and get them to use paths where camera traps had been installed. One tried and true method was to use scents, but what could attract ocelots?

“Sort of on a lark, one of our research assistants produced a bottle of Obsession,” Dallas Zoo’s Cynthia Bennett said at the time.

The felines loved it. Members of the research team watched astounded as the scent magically transformed previously ignored objects into items of sudden fascination.

The cats happily rubbed their cheeks and bodies against anything sprayed with the stuff.

“It´s a little embarrassing to watch, actually,” Bennett said. “It does make you wonder what´s in the perfume.”

(It’s probably civetone, a synthetic version of a pheromone produced by civets used as a binder in the Calvin Klein scent.)

Credit: Victor Landaeta/Pexels

In addition to their predilection for cologne, ocelots are known for enjoying water, hunting by twilight, and napping in trees. The medium-size felids, who weigh up to 40 pounds in the wild, are also easily recognizable by their big eyes, the dark rings that surround them, and the way those markings become twin stripes that sweep over their foreheads.

Perhaps most striking are their large, wavy rosettes, which sometimes get them confused for young jaguars. In several indigenous South American languages, ocelots and jaguars share a name or have very similar names.

An ocelot kitten. After a gestation period of about three months, ocelot moms give birth to as many as three kittens. Credit: Wikimedia Commons
An ocelot resting in a tree. Like other leopardus species, ocelots are proficient climbers. Credit: Wikipedia Commons

Ocelots have another quality that may lead people to confuse them with jaguars: they’re fond of water and they’re considered strong swimmers. That allows them to master their habitats, which often include rivers winding through rainforests and mangrove swamps.

The resourceful cats are adept predators on land and they can also pluck fish out of rivers.

An ocelot going for a dip. Credit: yellowlime_des/Reddit

Ocelots are categorized as a species of “least concern” by the IUCN (International Union for Conservation of Nature) but that doesn’t mean they’re thriving. Like pumas, the species is adaptable and can survive in varied surroundings. Still, ocelots contend with the same pressures other species experience, including habitat loss and fragmentation, hunting and poaching.

And while they can’t get enough of Calvin Klein’s Obsession for Men, maybe that’s a good thing.

According to zookeepers and wild cat experts, ocelots have a uniquely funky body odor which is amplified by their prodigious scent-marking. They want everyone to know where their territory is.

For zookeepers, the cats’ Obsession obsession could pull double duty as olfactory enrichment in their habitat — and a way to mitigate the stink.

Credit: Wikimedia Commons

Name: Ocelot (leopardus pardalis)
Weight: Up to 40 pounds, with limited sexual dimorphism (males are slightly larger)
Lifespan: Up to 20 years in captivity
Activity: Crepscular, nocturnal
Habitat: Claims territory in places where prey, water and dense ground cover are plentiful but the species is adaptable and survives in varied biomes

Want more Amazing Cats?

Amazing Cats: The ‘Fire Tiger’ Is The Stuff Of Legend
Amazing Cats: The Adorable Colocolo, Feline Of The Pampas
Amazing Cats: The Sunda Clouded Leopard
Amazing Cats: The Mysterious Marbled Cat
Amazing Cats: The Rusty Spotted Cat
Amazing Cats: The Jaguar, ‘He Who Kills With One Bound’
Amazing Cats: The Puma, Adaptable Survivor

Journalists Need To Stop Citing The Bunk Studies Blaming Cats For Annihilating Wildlife

Free-ranging cats do have a negative impact on wildlife, but we’re not going to solve the problem by demonizing them and culling them by the millions.

The Literary Hub story starts off with a provocative question: what if cats ruled the world?

This is a question I find amusing to ponder, so instantly my mind was filled with images of cats scandalizing foreign heads of state by insouciantly swiping gifts off tables, angering diplomats by yawning and nodding off during summits, and financing the construction of massive and unnecessary coastal walls, on the off chance the ocean decides to move inland and get them wet.

Then the writer cited the repeatedly-debunked “study” that credulous media of all stripes still reference without bothering to read the text — that infamous 2013 Nature Communications paper, published by birders who author books with titles like “Cat Wars: The Consequences Of A Cuddly Killer.”

Some journalists don’t know any better, some are overworked, and some are frankly too lazy to read the study with a critical eye, but I think one of the more likely reasons people continue to cite the paper is because it’s easier to blame felinekind for wildlife extirpation than it is to admit we’re the primary culprits. After all, according to the WWF’s most recent annual review, we’ve killed off 73 percent of Earth’s wildlife since 1970, and we certainly didn’t need house cats to help us push elephants, rhinos, every species of higher non-human primate, and innumerable other species to the brink of extinction.

We did that. We did it with our relentless development, consuming and fracturing wild habitats. We did it with careless industrialization, by dumping chemicals and garbage into our rivers and lakes until more than half of them were rendered too polluted to swim in or drink from. We did it by bulldozing old growth forest and jungle, by exploiting species for fur, folk medicine, ivory, sport hunting and in the illegal wildlife trade.

Cheetahs are critically endangered, and they’re being driven to extinction even faster by poachers, who sell them to wealthy buyers in oil-rich gulf states where they’re trendy pets. Credit: Riccardo Parretti/Pexels

More than 47,000 species — that we know of — are headed toward extinction. It’s so much easier to blame it on anyone or anything else than admit we need to make major changes to our lifestyles and policies.

But don’t take my word for it. Here’s what Alley Cat Allies has to say about the 2013 meta-analysis and its derivative papers:

The Smithsonian-funded study published in Nature Communications is not rigorous science.
It is a literature review that surveys a variety of unrelated, older studies and concocts a highly speculative conclusion that suits the researchers’ seemingly desperate anti-cat agenda. This speculative research is highly dangerous. It is being used by opponents of outdoor cats and Trap-Neuter-Return (including the authors) to further an agenda to kill more cats and roll back decades of progress on TNR. And it is being spread unchecked by the media.

Here’s what a group of ethicists and anthropologists wrote about the claims against cats in the journal Conservation Biology, lamenting the lack of nuance and danger in arguing that cats must be stopped “by any means necessary.” The drive to blame felines, they argue, has “fueled an unwarranted moral panic over cats”:

“Contrary to Loss and Marra’s claims that the scientific consensus is consistent with their views that cats are a global threat to biodiversity, the actual scientific consensus is that cats can, in certain contexts, have suppressive population-level effects on some other species (Twardek et al. 2017). This is something that is true of all predators, native or not (Wallach et al. 2010). Thus, cats should not be profiled as a general threat a priori and without reference to important factors of ecological context, situational factors, clear definition of harms, and evidence thereof.”

“There are there are serious reasons to suspect the reliability of the new, extreme cat-killer statistics,” wrote Barbara J. King, retired chairwoman of the department of anthropology at The College of William and Mary.

Feline predatory impact varies by local conditions. Free-ranging cats in cities and suburbs kill rodents, but have minimal impact on other animals, data shows. Credit: Patricia Luquet/Pexels

Like we’ve often noted here on PITB, the authors of the Nature Communications study can’t even say how many free-ranging felines exist in the US. They say it’s between 20 and 120 million. That’s a 100 million difference in the potential cat population! How can they tell us how many birds and mammals are killed by cats if they can’t even tell us how many cats there are? No amount of massaging the numbers can provide an accurate picture if the initial data is shaky or nonexistent.

Furthermore, the nature of a meta-analysis means the authors depend on earlier studies for estimates on predatory impact, but the 2013 Nature Communications paper does not include any data —not a single study — on feline predatory impact. In other words, they have no idea how many animals free-ranging cats actually kill.

In authentic studies that actually do measure predatory impact, the data varies widely in geographic and demographic context. Data derived from the D.C. Cat Count, for example, shows that cats living more than 800 feet from forested areas rarely kill wildlife, and are much more likely to kill rodents.

Those who cite the bunk study and its derivatives are “demonizing cats with shaky statistics,” King wrote, adding she was alarmed by “an unsettling degree of uncertainty in the study’s key numbers.”

Free-roaming populations are reduced when cat colonies are managed, and the animals are fed and fixed. Credit: Mia X/Pexels

Ultimately, we agree with Wayne Pacelle, former president of the Humane Society of the United States.

The meta-analysis authors “have thrown out a provocative number for cat predation totals, and their piece has been published in a highly credible publication, but they admit the study has many deficiencies. We don’t quarrel with the conclusion that the impact is big, but the numbers are informed guesswork.”

Cats do have a negative impact on wildlife, it varies according to local circumstances, and those of us who love cats have a responsibility to keep our pets indoors and help manage free-ranging populations.

But cooler heads must prevail, approaches to managing cats must be evidence-based, and the effort requires people of all kinds working together — which becomes much more difficult when agenda-driven pseudoacademics whip people into a frenzy by portraying felines as bloodthirsty, invasive monsters who need to be wiped out “by any means necessary.”

When that kind of rhetoric drives public policy, you get countries like Australia killing two million cats by air-dropping poisoned sausages, vigilantes gunning down cats with shotguns in public parks, and local governments offering cash prizes to children who shoot the most cats and kittens. Those efforts aren’t just cruel and inhuman, there’s not a shred of proof that they do a damn thing to help other species.

Solving the problem of free-ranging cats requires us to own up to our own role in species extinction and to take measured, evidence-based steps to protect vulnerable wildlife. Otherwise, we’re inflicting a whole lot of suffering on sentient creatures and accomplishing absolutely nothing.