poetry – Pain In The Bud

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.

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.

I stumbled into this on Twitter, and it’s a reminder that amazing things can still exist in this cesspit we call the internet.

Teacher Kate Clanchy writes: “What animal is your heart? Is one of my favourite poetry questions. But I’ve never had an answer like this.” She’s referring to this poem by one of her students, 17-year-old Kyla Pereles:

“My heart is a cockroach caught in the mouth of an alley cat.

This cat has not always been feral. It had known the warm spot on the rug in front of the fireplace. But on a summer’s day someone left the door open.

The cat, not knowing any dark thing, leapt away from love. (My heart leaves open cans of sardines for the alley cat. Every runaway full of regret deserves to be fed.)

The cat makes a bed of missing pet posters the wind tore down.

And the cat is hissing at shadows in its sleep.

And the cat is shivering in its matted fur.

And the cat is meowing at the restaurant backdoor.

A waiter, who is also my heart, leaves the back door open so the cat can be warm for the rest of his shift.

But the cat is feral. The owner of the restaurant shoves him back into the snow with a broom.

The cat sleeps until the snow reminds it of the rug. Small things seem sadder when they are alone.

So the cockroach does not mind being in the jaw of something just as lonely.

A little girl follows the paw prints that made a snow angel around the cat. Despite the cockroach in its mouth and its matted fur, she picks it up.

And the cat, who knows of dark things now, spends summer in the lap of the little girl, who is also my heart.”

Kyla’s got a hell of a career ahead of her if she chooses to pursue writing.