A new story from CNN examines how friendship with animals can enhance our spiritual lives.
If you ask Bud, I’m sure he’d agree that merely having the privilege of being friends with him is akin to a transcendental experience.
“Yes, human, by stroking my fur, you are brushing up against the divine!” he’d probably say. “Now make a proper offering, and don’t skimp out on me. I want the good snacks!”
The massive ego of my cat aside, some theologians and spiritualists say we’re in the midst of a “Great Pet Awakening,” with more people than ever welcoming animals into their homes, treating them like family, and coming to profound realizations by bonding with them.
Our pets can help us come to grips with our own mortality, amplify our own spiritual lives and even help us heal, they say. Some of it’s nebulous, including a Pew poll that found most Americans believe pets are imbued with some sort of vague supernatural energy, and some of it’s tangible, like studies that have found cat purring has a calming effect on people as well as cats.
If you’re interested in reading more, CNN’s story on the “awakening” quotes a Canadian theologian and author, a Buddhist, and, tragically, a “psychic medium.” In true grief vampire style, the latter says “pet psychics” can offer people “a chance to hear personalized messages from their pets in the Great Beyond.”
“Now leave the snack, bow, and retreat until I call for you again. That’s a good human.”
I don’t like thinking about a time when Bud will be gone, but when that day comes, if I encounter a “pet psychic” who tells me Bud sends his love and appreciation from the afterlife, it’ll reinforce my dim view of self-proclaimed mediums. If, however, the “psychic” tells me that Bud is still miffed about the times dinner was late, or he’s annoyed that I’ve adopted another cat who has inherited his toys, I’ll change my tune!
In any case, I think there’s one hugely important thing the CNN story does not touch on. It focuses on the way pets benefit people, but perhaps the most profound gift our animals give us — if we’re open to it — is a new appreciation for them, and what a miracle they are.
It’s 2025, but surprisingly, there are lots of people who are still stuck in a pre-cognitive revolution mindset, viewing animals as little more than biological automatons. They deny animal cognition, emotions and agency, as if B.F. Skinner and behaviorism remain the credible model. To do that, you’d have to ignore more than sixty years’ worth of research proving our furry friends have their own rich internal lives, their own thoughts and feelings.
Buddy’s ego may be slightly inflated.
That, to me, is one of the great things about cats. If I was a merely adequate servant, the Budster would take the free meals, the shelter and the warm bed, and ignore me until he wants something. Instead, he’s rarely more than three feet from me, he spends much of his day sitting on me or in direct physical contact, he can’t abide any barrier between us, and he expresses his love by marching up to me, purring up a storm, and rubbing his head against my face.
He chooses to do that, and it tells me that for all the boneheaded mistakes I’ve made, I must be doing a pretty decent job. He’s not my property, he’s my Buddy.
Arabian leopards are among the most rare of all cats, with only about 120 left living in the wild. Trump was taken with them on a recent visit to Saudi Arabia.
I can practically hear Donald Trump bragging about the new pair of extremely rare Arabian leopards the Saudis will send stateside as a deal-sweetener between the countries.
“They’re tremendous cats, just terrific,” he’ll say. “The most ferocious cats you’ve ever seen, believe me. It’s incredible. A lot of people are saying — and by the way, did you know leopards eat up to 40 pounds of meat a day? They’re tremendously powerful animals, very powerful.”
As the New York Times notes, Trump is just as beguiled by dangerous apex predators as he is with dangerous “strong men” tyrants:
Mr. Trump does not own pets and, unlike his sons, he does not hunt big game. But he has shown a particular fascination for animals at the top of the food chain. Last year, he talked constantly on the campaign trail about shark attacks. While campaigning in 2015, he was nearly mauled by a bald eagle he posed with in Trump Tower for a Time magazine photo shoot. (“This bird is seriously dangerous but beautiful!” he chirped after the raptor lunged at his head.)
During his first term, Mr. Trump asked aides about dropping snakes and alligators into a hypothetical moat he wanted built on America’s southern border. He also reportedly became fixated on the viciousness of badgers, badgering his former chief of staff Reince Priebus, who is from the Badger State, as Wisconsin is known, about whether badgers were mean or friendly, according to “Sinking in the Swamp,” a book about the first Trump administration. (Mr. Priebus did not respond to multiple requests for comment.)
Trump viewed the leopards and spoke to a zookeeper while he was in Saudi Arabia to complete a recent arms deal. (The U.S. will sell $142 billion in high tech weapons to Saudi Arabia so the kingdom can more effectively slaughter Yemeni civilians in its ongoing proxy war with Iran.) The American president wanted to know all about the big cats, including how big they are and what they eat. The zookeeper, who routinely handles those sorts of questions from visiting classes of elementary school children, happily indulged his interest.
Arabian leopards are fierce, but they’re somewhat smaller than their Asian counterparts. Panthera pardus nimr, as the species is known, generally has a lighter, tan-colored coat that provides more camouflage in desert and arid environments.
An Arabian leopard Arabia’s Wildlife Center in Sharjah, United Arab Emirates. Credit: Arabia Wildlife Center
The Times also quotes Joe Maldonado, aka Joe Exotic, who spoke to a reporter from prison, where he’s serving a 21-year sentence for trying to have Big Cat Rescue’s Carole Baskin murdered. Maldonado is keenly aware of Trump’s recent streak of handing out pardons to reality TV grifters, like Todd and Julie Chrisley, who stole almost $40 million, as well as less famous scammers like convicted crypto bros. (The Chrisleys, who were convicted of bank fraud and tax evasion, declared bankruptcy to avoid paying back their victims, and will now launch a new reality TV show detailing their post-prison lives. ‘Merica!)
Now Maldonado sees an opportunity.
The former “Tiger King” says Trump should have leopards and other big cats prowling the grounds of the White House, which is the kind of thing dictators like Vladimir Putin and Saddam Hussein have been known for.
“I think it would be absolutely amazing if he would put some endangered cats like that around the White House,” Maldonado said. “I’ve never been there. I don’t know how big the Rose Garden is, but I would imagine you could build a pretty nice size complex.”
Perhaps Trump can threaten to feed congressmen and senators to his new leopards if they defy him and don’t vote for legislation like the “big, beautiful bill” he’s been pushing.
Maldonado admitted that even he’s never seen an Arabian leopard, an animal so rare that only an estimated 120 of them remain in the wild. Still, he thinks he can handle them for Trump.
“Let me out,” Maldonado said, “and I’ll come take care of ’em!”
Police used the kitty’s mugshot to reunite her with her family. Meanwhile, a judge in California has issued a warrant for a man accused of murdering dozens of cats in his neighborhood.
When a kind passerby scooped up a lost cat and brought her to a nearby police station in Bangkok last week, police were happy to help reunite her with her family.
But the cat, whom they later learned is named Nub Tang (“Counting Money”) wasn’t particularly happy about being rescued, and she tried to chomp down on several officers who were trying to help her.
So a lieutenant who goes by the name Inspector Da online devised a novel way of making the best of the situation and reuniting Nub Tang with her family.
The Inspector “arrested” and “booked” Nub Tang on charges of assaulting an officer. He took a mugshot of the grumpy shorthair and took her paw prints, then posted them online.
Nub Tang even looked grumpy in her “mugshot.” Clearly, she’s a criminal.
The amusing images and story helped draw attention to the post, and the next day, after Inspector Da had taken Nub Tang home with him overnight to make sure she was comfortable and felt safe, Nub Tang’s humans saw the posts and contacted the precinct.
Inspector Da — real name Parinda Yukol Pakeesuk — happily handed the feisty feline back to her people, but not before posing for some photos with them and saying goodbye to his temporary pal.
Nub Tang has a lot of personality for such a tiny cat. Credit: Da Parinda/Facebook
Warrant issued for alleged cat killer who didn’t show for court
A California man accused of killing dozens of cats skipped out on his initial court appearance.
Police in Santa Ana arrested 45-year-old Alejandro Oliveros Acosta in April after media pressure prompted them to finally take reports of a cat killer seriously.
Neighbors had been lodging complaints and asking police to act for more than a year after pets and strays went missing. Acosta and his white pickup truck were captured on several doorbell cameras and home security cams, including one that caught a clear view of him allegedly luring and abducting a neighbor’s pet cat.
After their complaints failed to prompt action from police, people in the neighborhood turned to local media, sharing footage and information.
A local TV news report finally cranked up pressure on the cops, who arrested Acosta in late April. A search of Acosta’s home turned up the bodies of deceased neighborhood cats and evidence that Acosta had allegedly killed “dozens” of felines, a Santa Ana police spokeswoman said.
Acosta didn’t show up for a May 21 preliminary hearing. Now police are looking for him and the court has issued a warrant for his arrest.
The Santa Ana man previously posted $40,000 bail, money he will forfeit if he remains a scofflaw.
Scientists have uncovered the elusive mechanisms behind coat color expression, opening the door to a new question: is fur pigment connected to personality?
When Professor Hiroyuki Sasaki retired, he wasn’t done with science. He just wanted to use it to better understand his cats.
The Japanese geneticist raised more than $73,000 from Japanese and international cat lovers and put together a team, including partners from the US. Then he began the hard work of scrutinizing feline DNA to find out why some cats are orange, and why most all-orange cats are male while virtually all calico and tortoiseshell cats, whose coats have splotches of orange, are female.
It turns out there’s no genetic instruction telling the fur to take on an orange pigment — it’s the absence of a segment of DNA, which governs pigment production, that does it.
In other words, ginger cats are mutants.
Most fully-orange cats are male because the mutation removes the DNA segment in the X chromosome. As males have X and Y chromosomes, they only need the mutation in the single X chromosome for their coats to express in that shade.
Lots of cat lovers swear that coat color and temperament are connected.
Females have an XX chromosomal arrangement, so they need the mutation in both chromosomes to turn tangerine. If the mutation only shows up in one chromosome, you get patches of the color instead of a consistent coat.
That explains why 80 percent of ginger cats are male, and why only one in 3,000 calicos and tortoiseshells are male. A male cat would need an extra X chromosome, XXY, to be born with a calico or tortoiseshell coat. One of the side effects, however, is sterility.
Scientists estimate only one in a thousand male calicos/tortoiseshells can reproduce and pass their unique mutations on.
It’s not just coat color either. The mutation impacts skin and eye color, which is why a ginger cat might have a pink nose compared to the terracotta shade of a void cat or a silver tabby.
Are orange cats really more friendly and silly?
So how does this relate to temperament, and the many people who attest to a particular personality associated with orange cats? Some people say ginger tabbies are more loyal, affectionate and social than cats of other coat colors, but they’re also more prone to doing boneheaded things.
The stereotypes have picked up steam online, where people often share memes depicting orange felines as earnestly derpy, but they may be on to something — or at least, it can’t be ruled out until we know more.
Ginger cats are not the sharpest claw on the paw, according to popular memes.
Because of the missing piece of genetic code, a specific gene, ARHGAP36, isn’t “expressed.” Like so many genes, scientists don’t fully understand everything ARHGAP36 impacts, or how alterations can lead to unexpected changes elsewhere.
“Many cat owners swear by the idea that different coat colours and patterns are linked with different personalities,” Sasaki told the BBC. “There’s no scientific evidence for this yet, but it’s an intriguing idea and one I’d love to explore further.”
Cats and dogs communicate primarily by scent, touch and body language, but human efforts to understand them have focused exclusively on meows and barks. If we want to truly understand our non-human friends, we need to take an approach that considers the other ways animals “talk” to each other.
A few years ago when MeowTalk made a minor splash in the startup world, I was pretty bullish on its potential to help us understand our cats better.
Sure, the app had an unhelpful habit of attributing improbably loving declarations to Buddy, but I thought it would follow the trajectory of other machine learning models and drastically improve as it accumulated more data.
More users meant the app would record and analyze more meows, chirps and trills, meaning it was just a matter of time before the AI would be able to distinguish between an “I want attention!” meow and a “My bowl is dangerously close to empty!” meow.
Obviously that didn’t happen, and what I personally didn’t take into account back then — and should have, given how obvious it is in retrospect — is that cats don’t just communicate via vocalizations.
In fact, cats don’t normally incorporate vocalizations into communication at all. Pet kitties do it entirely for our benefit because they know we’re generally awful at interpreting body language and we are completely useless when it comes to olfactory information.
It’s actually amazing when you really think about how much of the heavy lifting cats do in our efforts to communicate with each other. They recognize we can’t communicate the way they do naturally, so they try to relate to us on our terms. In return, we meet them less than halfway.
No wonder Buddy sometimes looks frustrated as he meows at me, as if I’m the biggest moron in the world for not understanding the very obvious thing he’s trying to tell me.
“Human, how can you not understand the simple feeling of innerer schweinehund I’m trying to convey here? The cringe is killing me!”
Now the Chinese tech giant Baidu is throwing its hat into the ring after filing a patent in China for an AI system that uses machine learning to decode animal communication and “translate” it to human language.
Machines are designed to process things from a human viewpoint according to human logic, so if Baidu wants to succeed where MeowTalk has not, its engineers will need to take a thoughtful approach with the help of animal behavior experts.
This is a hard problem that encompasses animal cognition, neuroscience, linguistics, biology, biochemistry and even philosophy. If they approach this strictly as a tech challenge, they’ll set themselves up for failure.
Without the information and context clues provided by tails, whiskers, facial expressions, posture, eye dilation, heart rate, pheromones and even fur, an AI system is only getting a fraction of the information cats are trying to convey.
Trying to glean meaning from that is like trying to read a book in which only every fourth or fifth letter is legible. There’s just too much missing information.
Even if we can train machines to analyze sound visual, tactile and olfactory information, it may not be possible to truly translate what our cats are saying to us. We may have to settle for approximations. We’ve only begun to guess at how the world is interpreted differently among human beings thanks to things like qualia and neurodivergence, and the way cats and dogs see the world is undoubtedly more strange to us than the way a neurodivergent person might make sense of reality.
“He grimaced. He had drawn a greedy old character, a tough old male whose mind was full of slobbering thoughts of food, veritable oceans full of half-spoiled fish. Father Moontree had once said that he burped cod liver oil for weeks after drawing that particular glutton, so strongly had the telepathic image of fish impressed itself upon his mind. Yet the glutton was a glutton for danger as well as for fish. He had killed sixty-three Dragons, more than any other Partner in the service, and was quite literally worth his weight in gold.” – Cordwainer Smith, The Game of Rat and Dragon
An animal’s interpretation of reality may be so psychologically alien that most of its communication may be apples to oranges at best. Which is why I always loved Cordwainer Smith’s description of the feline mind as experienced via a technology that allows humans with special talents to share thoughts with cats in his classic short story, The Game of Rat and Dragon.
In the story, humans are a starfaring civilization and encounter a threat in the void between stars that people don’t have the reaction speed to deal with. Cats, however, are fast and swift enough, and with a neural bridge device, teams of humans paired with cats are able to keep passengers safe on interstellar journeys.
The narrator, who is one of the few people with an affinity for teaming up with felines, hopes he’ll be paired with one of his two favorite cats for his latest mission, but instead he’s assigned to partner with an old glutton of a tomcat whose mind was dominated by “slobbering thoughts of food, veritable oceans of half-spoiled fish.”
The narrator wryly notes that the last time one of his colleagues was paired with that particular cat, his burps tasted of fish for weeks afterward. But the cat in question, despite being obsessed with fish, is a badass at killing “dragons,” the human nickname for the bizarre entities that attack human ships in space. (The software that allows felines and humans to link thoughts also portrays the “dragons” as rodents in the minds of the cats, stimulating their ancient predatory drive so they’ll attack instantly when they see the enemy.)
We can’t know for sure if Smith’s interpretation of the feline mind is accurate, but another part rang true when he wrote that cat thoughts were all about the moment, filled with sentiments of warmth and affection, while they rapidly lost interest in thoughts about human concerns, dismissing them “as so much rubbish.”
If the mind of a cat is that relatable, we’ll be incredibly lucky. But in reality we’re dealing with animals who evolved in drastically different ecological niches, with different priorities, motivations, and ways of looking at the world — literally and figuratively.
That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try to understand our furry friends. Research has yielded interesting information about the way animals like whales and elephants communicate, and AI is at its best when it augments human creativity and curiosity instead of trying to replace it.
Even if we don’t end up with a way to glean 1:1 translations, the prospect of improving our understanding of animal minds is tantalizing enough. We just need to make sure we’re listening to everything they’re saying, not just the meows.
Pain In The Bud 