Can an ocean-dwelling invertebrate make music? Mattias Krantz thought so. Proving his point took months of work, creative thinking and perseverance.
Mattias Krantz got Tako from a Japanese seafood market.
“That guy,” he told the person manning the stall, pointing to a common octopus sitting in shallow water with others of its kind, not even given room to swim before it was to become someone’s meal.
It is the ultimate as far as random interventions of fate go, and I kept thinking about Tako’s almost-end on a plate while watching musician Mattias Krantz teach the clever animal how to play piano.
Octopus are smart. Comparing animal intelligence to human intelligence is always a flawed and imprecise effort, not least because of differences in psychology and evolution, but the eight-armed invertebrates have cognitive abilities on par with humans at three years old. That is to say, some of their cognitive gifts exceed those of small children, some fall short, and some are about equal. It’s always going to be apples to oranges between species.
Octopus learn quickly simply by observing. They remember individual people even if they haven’t seen them for months. They play, explore and even decorate their dens. In the wild, species like the mimic octopus perform nature’s most astonishing acts of imitation, not only changing the hue, texture and patterns of their skin, but also their shape and the way they move. They can imitate dozens of creatures, blend into the sand, and disguise themselves as plants and rocks. When a predator approaches, the mimic octopus takes on the shape, color and behavior of another predator — a highly venomous fish, for example — and scares off the aggressor. That requires serious smarts.
Technically, saying Tako is playing piano may be a stretch. Octopus can’t hear, so Krantz rigged Tako’s tank with a device that turns sound to rhythmic pulses in the water.
Yet there is no denying that Taku took to the piano with enthusiasm, happily played it, even looked forward to it every day when Krantz’ multiple iterations of waterproof keyboards finally reached a point where the animal could reliably manipulate the keys. (Krantz had to create switches Tako could pull, for example, as it’s difficult for the invertebrates to push keys.)
Krantz’ determination is admirable. The Swedish musician, known for his quirky projects, overcame major hurdles that would have stopped most people, and navigating some of those challenges required radical reconsideration of how humans and animals interact with the world.
Yet Krantz and Tako got there in the end, and the piano is only one part of it. Tako is short for takoyaki, a Japanese fried octopus dish. Watching Tako’s interest and enthusiasm as he tackled the piano day after day, you can’t help but think about his less fortunate tankmates, and our collective ambivalence to the overwhelming evidence that we share this planet with billions of other minds, each with their own thoughts and feelings.
Header image of common octopus credit Albert Kok/Wikimedia Commons
A look at the strange and wonderful world of rare books where, of course, you’ll also find cats.
I’ve always liked the idea of antiquarian bookshops.
I am almost completely ignorant on the subject, mostly because chasing after extremely rare print volumes is the domain of people with a lot of expendable income. The most valuable books in my possession are an original 1939 first edition print of Will Durant’s The Life of Greece, and two novels signed by their authors. Their value is sentimental, not monetary.
But I like the general romanticized image of the antiquarian bookseller: an older man or woman in tweed ensconced in a cozy shop in Manhattan, with every shelf filled with dusty volumes and every surface covered by globes, astrolabes and other curiosities. There’s one of those tight winding staircases with wrought iron railings leading to a loft for access to the highest shelves, the music is from a vinyl collection of light jazz, and it’s always raining outside.
A doted-on shop cat dozes on a red leather armchair, tail twitching from some nightmare in which it’s slightly less adorable than it thinks it is.
Collectors in damp trenchcoats drop in, asking after 17th-century occult tomes, grimoires, and Voynich-esque manuscripts with engravings of impossible creatures, trees with visual organs and arcane rituals. Bibliophiles ask after leatherbound collections of classics like Don Quixote, and the occasionally curious passerby peeks in, surprised that such shops still exist in the age of the internet.
It turns out that’s not too far from the truth, especially the bits about the internet and, of course, the cats.
Johnny Depp is constantly smoking and drinking red wine while handling priceless old books in 1999’s The Ninth Gate. Notice the winding staircase in the rare book shop in the top screenshot.
The Booksellers is a documentary that screened in festivals in late 2019 before heading straight to video when the pandemic brought the world to a screeching halt.
It’s an inside look at the annual New York Book Fair and the small world of antiquarian and rare booksellers in New York, a shrinking constellation of people mostly descended from, or formerly apprenticed to, the booksellers of old before Barnes and Noble and Jeff Bezos laid waste to that sector of retail.
Before network TV, cable TV, dial-up internet, broadband, Kindles, iPads and smartphones turned us into a media-gorging — yet paradoxically less literate — society, New York was home to more than 500 bookshops, including generalists and specialists who catered to people with particular and peculiar interests. Now it’s home to fewer than 80, according to the documentary.
When the booksellers were asked about the way the internet has impacted their trade, their weary sighs reminded me of my older colleagues from my brief time experiencing the end of the “good old days” of newspapering, before the internet destroyed or compromised every publishing income stream and delivered us to this moment. This dystopian time when entire swaths of the country have become news deserts, Elon Musk in all his wisdom asserts that Twitter accounts run by anonymous trolls in Belarus are just as reliable — even more trustworthy, in fact — than those liars in legacy media, and corporate raiders are stripping the last handful of newspapers down to assets they can auction off.
A rare book shop in Paris. Credit: Wikimedia Commons
Not all of it’s bad. One rare book dealer laments the fact that “the thrill of the hunt” is gone, meaning it no longer takes years to track down some obscure volume because you can hop online and find it in a few clicks. I get that, but nostalgia for that sort of thing is the ultimate in looking back through rose-colored glasses. Plenty of us could wax nostalgic about the days when we’d hear a song on the radio and have to hum the damn thing to record store clerks, but we’re forgetting about the considerable frustration involved. Given the choice between “fun” ignorance and access to information, I’ll always choose the latter.
As for the cats, it’s not a surprise when many of the book dealers interviewed for the film identify themselves as cat lovers or idly scratch their feline friends while showing off their vast personal collections. Antiquarian bookshops tend to be warm, quiet, gently-lit spaces, perfect napping spots for cats who guard old books from rodents.
If you’re interested in watching The Booksellers, you can find it on Amazon Prime video, or better yet, just click below:
The reaction says volumes about our society’s sense of proportionality, our collective understanding of animals, and our ability to politely disagree on topics we feel strongly about.
This hasn’t been a great week for feline PR.
Not only did two celebrities come out with bizarrely forceful anti-cat sentiments, but from their statements, they both “hate” cats because they’ve misinterpreted feline behavior.
The fallout hasn’t been good either, for the actress and rapper involved, or for the more extreme animal lovers who have responded with disproportionate rage.
The first comes from rapper Docheii, who insists cats “genuinely aren’t friendly animals.”
“yall be scratched and beat tf up by your own animals I can’t lmaoooo,” the towering intellect from Florida wrote on social media.
Cats, she asserted, “don’t wanna be domesticated.”
Presumably she got that information from the Pew Center for Feline Public Opinion, and the rest of us simply aren’t privy to the latest opinion polls among cats. And here I thought our furry friends were mostly ambivalent about anything that doesn’t involve napping, playing and eating. (I took an informal poll of Bud. He responded with a simple “Fetch me a snack, will you, human?”)
A promo shot of Doechii, real name Jaylah Ji’mya Hickmon
Regardless, even if there was some way to ascertain how cats feel about a process their ancestors initiated — one that takes thousands of years to result in speciation — it’s irrelevant. The decision was made 10,000 years ago when The First Kitteh was drawn to a human settlement by the promise of rodential prey in abundance.
Modern cats have no more say in the matter than we have in our ancestors slaughtering dodos. It happened. We can’t change the past.
The actress vs the ‘pedigree bitch’
The second bit of anti-feline sentiment comes from Jessie Buckley, an Irish actress who is weirdly proud of forcing her husband to ditch his two pet cats when they began dating. She talks as if she’s been waging a personal war against the species, and her reason for disliking felines also indicates a fundamental misunderstanding of their behavior.
Buckley’s comments were made on a podcast late in 2025, but resurfaced this week and went viral as her Oscar buzz reached its peak. On the podcast, Buckley said one of her husband’s cats was a “pedigree model bitch” who was orchestrating a “coup” against her.
She thinks the cat had it out for her: “I’d come home and there’d just be, like, poo on my pillow.”
This is actually sad, because people who really know cats, who understand why they behave certain ways, will immediately understand that they don’t have accidents out of spite. If the cat was eliminating outside her litter box, there was a legitimate underlying problem causing her a great deal of stress.
She could have been injured, she could have been sick, or she could have been plagued by the cumulative stress brought on by the presence of a hostile woman who ludicrously saw her as competition. Our furry friends are much more perceptive than generally realized, especially when it comes to our emotional states, and Buckley’s hostility would have been immediately apparent.
Buckley with co-star Paul Mezcal, who was equally enthusiastic in his intense dislike of felines, telling an interviewer: “Yeah, f— cats!”
Alas, Buckley didn’t reluctantly ask her then-boyfriend to give up his cats. She demanded it, then did a victory lap when he complied, which makes me suspect she was merely taking the whip out for a test drive before further commitment. If he’s willing to abandon two pets, he’s almost certainly going to be a pushover when she begins to prune his friends from his life, starts dressing him the way she likes, maybe even monitors his phone. *shudder*
“It’s me or the cats,” Buckley said she told her husband. “But I won!”
Congratulations, I guess?
The rage of cat lovers
As ludicrous as it seems, the backlash may cost Buckley an Oscar. Personally I don’t keep up with the approximately 200 awards ceremonies actors hold to fete themselves annually, but apparently Buckley turned in a solid performance in a movie called Hamnet.
She was considered the front-runner for an Academy Award. Now critics are openly wondering about her chances.
As always, these sorts of statements reveal a lot more about the people involved than they do about cats. I just wish people understood the species a little better, so maybe attitudes won’t default to anger or hostility if, say, a scared cat scratches a person who corners her, or a kitty with a stomach bug pukes on the carpet.
When a toddler gets sick, we don’t respond by yelling at the kid, blaming him and chasing him off. We make sure he’s okay, give him some medicine or take him to the doctor, and clean up the mess. Cats are essentially furry little toddlers, with the same innocence as children. When we adopt them, we agree to care for them.
Both Buckley and Docheii have been hammered on social media since their comments went viral, and it’s important to address that too. They expressed opinions. That doesn’t make them “pieces of s—,” “worthless human beings,” “scum” or any of the other nasty things some people have been saying.
We can disagree with them without overreacting, even in the age of dehumanizing online conversation.
Maintain yourselves!
And honestly, it makes all of us look bad. The day Walter Palmer returned to work is forever seared into my mind. Palmer was the American dentist who infamously and illegally lured Cecil the lion out of a protected area and killed him to take his head as a trophy in 2015.
Worse, Palmer — who had a history of getting in trouble for breaking the law while hunting — killed Cecil with a bow and arrow in order to claim some meaningless hunting record for himself and bungled the point-blank kill shot his guides had lined up for him. Cecil, who was an iconic lion with a distinct mane, suffered for hours before he died.
People were understandably angry, and protesters showed up outside Palmer’s office the day he returned to work. Most of them behaved themselves. But as Palmer made his way toward the front door of his dental practice, one of the protesters let loose a blood-curdling scream and shouted “WAAAAALTER PAAAAALMER!“, vowing vengeance for Cecil.
Palmer returning to work while media and protesters crowd him.
That moment of unhinged, unregulated rage overshadowed the good intentions of every person who registered their displeasure calmly and politely — and provided ample ammunition to those who enjoy painting all animal lovers as lunatics.
Buckley and Doechii expressed opinions we don’t like, and that’s their right. The best thing we can do is explain why they’ve misinterpreted feline behavior, and show them that cats really are loving, friendly animals — it just takes a little patience and trust. I say that as the faithful servant of a cat who can be particularly prickly and a complete lovebug, depending on the circumstance.
In the meantime, celebrities who hate cats should probably take a pass on broadcasting their intense dislike and save themselves the resulting headache. Sadly, we no longer have any sense of proportionality when it comes to disagreements, and no one gets a fair shake when things are litigated via social media.
We’ve made enormous mistakes in our reconstructions of prehistoric creatures, including dinosaurs and mammals. Would paleontologists of the future misinterpret the clues our civilization leaves behind?
Imagine if, far in the future, humanity has spread across a healthy swath of space, colonizing worlds across dozens of light years.
Academics at a prominent science institute, looking to learn more about the humble beginnings of our species, fund a scientific expedition to Old Earth, where radiation and toxicity have finally declined to a point which allows teams to poke through the ruins of our civilization.
As they piece together clues from the rubble, they find references to companion animals who have been domesticated while their wild counterparts continued on.
What does a cat look like? they wonder. Then they find the bones, beginning with a handful of incomplete skeletons…
Critics have long argued that our depictions of dinosaurs are like skeletons wrapped in flesh, with modern representations doing a poor job of representing complete animals. What if the paleontologists and historians of the future mistranslate a word like “fur” or don’t realize the skeletons of cats are the same furry creatures that were human companions?A tiger imagined as a semi-aquatic animal with scales instead of fur, and a skull interpreted in much the same way we interpret dinosaur skulls. “Surviving texts make clear the tiger was comfortable in water, and like its distant cousin the crocodile, would remain mostly submerged, looking for opportunities to ambush prey.”No fur, just musculature, as if an anatomy book of animals is one of the few texts to survive in hard copy.A cat with magnificent plumage: “Research shows felines engaged in elaborate mating rituals, using their vivid colors and patterns to demonstrate virility to females in heat.”Finally, a winged cat. Outlandish? Maybe. But what if of the scraps of mythology to survive is a statue of a manticore, or paleontologists discover the bones of a cat species mingled with those of a large bird that died alongside it in a tar pit? In our time we’ve accidentally invented entire species of dinosaurs by mistakenly matching skulls from one species onto the spines of others, or wildly misinterpreting clues in the body plans of new and unfamiliar creatures.
Cats spend most of their time sleeping, which leaves them in a vulnerable position.
Aubrey Plaza is delightfully weird.
Anyone who’s seen her on a late night talk show or in an impromptu interview knows what I’m talking about. Instead of the practiced, carefully crafted anecdotes celebrities tell to make themselves seem more interesting, or the hard focus on promoting a particular project, Plaza seems to revel in awkward pauses, bizarre responses and stories that most people would never tell about themselves.
She does it all with a deadpan expression so you can never quite tell if she’s joking. That’s part of the fun.
I hadn’t seen her in much until Emily the Criminal, about a woman whose frustration at trying to make ends meet with dead-end jobs leads her down a highly illegal path, revealing a talent for deception she never knew she had.
Plaza in Emily the Criminal.
Now she’s starring in Kevin, an animated show about an eponymous tuxedo cat who decides that when his humans break up, he’s going to break up with them too. Instead of going with one of them, Kevin decides to move “into a local pet rescue in Astoria, Queens, where a band of misfit animals helps him discover what he truly wants out of life,” according to the series’ logline.
Plaza co-created the series with Joe Wengert, and Jason Schwartzmann, who we loved in Bored To Death, will voice Kevin. The show will premiere on April 20 on Prime Video.
A still from Kevin.
Cats prefer sleeping on their left side, but why?
Two out of three cats prefer sleeping on their left side, which immediately raises two questions: why do they prefer sleeping that way, and how do we know such a seemingly obscure piece of information?
In 2025, a team of scientists from Italy and Germany analyzed more than 400 random online videos of our furry overlords in their rest state, and the numbers were consistent. Cats definitely have a preferred side to sleep on, and it’s the left.
As for why, in a research paper published in Current Biology last summer, the scientists say there are several reasons, but the primary one is that the right side of the brain processes shapes and visual sensory input.
Since the right hemisphere of the brain controls the left side of the body in mammals, due to the way nerve fibers cross at the base of the brain, a cat opening its eyes and seeing the world from the left side is able to more quickly assess information and react.
Credit: Min An/Pexels
That’s a pretty big deal for cats, as a story in Science Focus notes. As both predator and prey, felines have to respond quickly not only to potential threats, but also potential lunch.
That is especially true for a species that spends the majority of its time sleeping deeply or napping, meaning they’re physically vulnerable to attack most of the time. That explains why our cats are able to spring to alertness immediately from a nap, and why their most restful sleep comes when they’re absolutely sure they’re safe.
Anecdotally, that makes sense. Bud clearly feels safest when he sleeps on me or burrows between my knees, and it’s subsequently harder to rouse him from slumber compared to, say, when he catches some Zs on the couch by himself or retreats to another favorite napping spot.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, he also bucks the trend and likes to sleep on his right side. We are, after all, talking about a cat who still hasn’t figured out that wand toy games simulate hunting, and that they should end with a “kill bite” rather than Bud’s favored method, which is bouncing happily on his back paws while bobbling the toy in his front paws.
He may have the instincts of his wild ancestors, but all he knows is the comfort and warmth of human homes.
Pain In The Bud 