People who were asked to identify feline moods based only on audio of meows fared the worst in the study.
A new study suggests people misinterpret their cats’ moods often, but offers an easy fix.
A group of researchers from Paris Nanterre University split participants into three groups: one that was shown soundless video and images of cats, a second group that heard audio-only recordings of feline vocalizations, and a third group that had the benefit of video and sound.
Participants from the first two groups misinterpreted feline moods as much as 28 percent of the time, the study found, but people who had the benefit of seeing and hearing cats correctly identified their mental state almost 92 percent of the time.
The study also yielded another insight: people are much better at accurately assessing positive moods than they are at spotting an upset or antagonistic cat.
Credit: Sami Aksu/Pexels
The findings indicate we’re better off giving our cats our full attention than, say, jumping to conclusions about what they want based solely on their vocalizations or the position of their tails. It seems obvious, but how many of us have our eyes on a screen or we’re multitasking when our cats want our attention?
Of 630 people who participated in the research, 166 were professionals in animal-related fields like veterinary medicine and animal behaviorism, while the rest were lay people. There was a major gender imbalance among participants, with 574 women, 51 men and five people who didn’t identify with either gender.
It’s not clear how such an imbalance might skew the results, and it would be nice to see follow-up research evenly split between women and men.
Sir Buddy leads an expedition into the jungle to find the legendary Lap of Luxury.
AMAZON RAINFOREST — At the peak of the hill, still well within the darkness of the tree canopy where only a few slabs of light penetrate through the understory to the jungle floor, a path stops abruptly.
In its place is a steep drop and the mouth of an underground chasm carrying water over the edge, creating one of the planet’s most spectacular waterfalls — and a sweeping vista of the lake and its shores below, where structures from deep antiquity seem to exist only as outlines in the mist.
It is here in the Lost City of Casarabe that intrepid explorer Buddy the Cat believes he’ll find the legend his species has sought for more than a thousand years.
It is, he believes, the site of the Lap of Luxury.
“Many explorers have braved these jungles in search of the legendary Lap of Luxury,” Sir Buddy says as members of his team pad around their camp. “I stand on the shoulders of some pretty big cats here, on the cusp of history, to finally achieve what so many felines set out to do.”
Buddy on the hunt for the legendary Lap of Luxury, which may be located in the Lost City of Casarabe.
Buddy believes the Lap of Luxury will be found in this ancient city, which was abandoned more than a thousand years ago for reasons that so far elude the experts accompanying him. Only a very small part of the Lost City of Casarabe is visible even this deep in the jungle. The flora here is too dense and the jungle floor too dark to give up its secrets so easily.
Under Sir Buddy’s direction, teams have cleared a thick network of vines to reveal a stepped pyramid, the twelve spires of a temple dedicated to a mysterious jaguar deity, and a remarkably well-preserved palace that Buddy believes once belonged to an aristocratic feline.
Some seventy rooms are contained in the palace, including a chamber the team has dubbed the Hall of a Thousand Naps, where stunning stone-carved reliefs depict an advanced felid civilization that engaged in napping not only as a biological necessity, but a function of religious fervor.
“The Caztecs were known for their brutality and the Layans were known for their enduring empire, but the hallmark of Casarabian society was the elevation of napping into high art,” says Ferdinand Lyle, an expert on South American antiquities with the British Museum. “Indeed, grand murals depict a civilization that measured time in naps and meals, and even military disputes with neighboring powers were scheduled around shut-eye. To the Casarabians, violating the sanctity of the Nap Schedule was considered an affront to the very fabric of society.”
Otorongo, one of Buddy’s buddies, met the intrepid explorers deep in the jungle and accompanied them to the Lost City, facilitating a cultural exchange of napping technique. Credit: Benni Fish/Pexels
Legends and the surviving records of neighboring civilizations mention the Lap of Luxury using a dictionary’s worth of superlatives to describe its magnificence. Aztec scholars called it “simultaneously radiant and outrageously comfortable, always the perfect temperature, the substrate upon which kings enjoyed serene naps and gentle massages while being fed candied figs.”
It is alternately described as gilded, soft, gem-like in its facets and silken in tactile sensation.
“Of its comforts, it knows no equals,” wrote 19th century explorer Percy Fawcett, who spent the latter part of his life searching for Casarabe. “If today’s artisans were capable of emulating such perfection, which they are obviously not, all of civilization would grind to a halt as millions fall into deep, satisfying slumber.”
Khalbalique, a jaguar historian and contemporary of the Casarabians, wrote that the Lap of Luxury “thrillified me down to my paws.”
“Such was the lazification of this tremendulomentous relaxatory,” the big cat wrote, “that I found it extraordinatiously operose to extractify my personage from its embraculations.”
Sir Buddy strides fearlessly through the jungle, determined to find the Lost City and its most precious treasure, the Lap of Luxury. Here he poses for a portraitist who will send his likeness back to the Explorer’s Club to be hung on its walls alongside Mewis and Clarke, Claward Carter, Catto the Navigator and other intrepid legends.
Regardless of the conflicting accounts, all agree on one thing: the Lap of Luxury is magnificent.
Sir Buddy and his team are working out the details of bringing a helicopter into the deep jungle in order to use LIDAR, or light detection and ranging, to sweep the area. Using a mix of near-infrared, ultraviolet and visible light, a team using LIDAR from the air can digitally “remove” the dense jungle to reveal the structures underneath, natural and man-made.
For the intrepid explorers it’s an advantage their forebears never had, and it’s one reason why Sir Buddy believes he will succeed where those who came before him did not.
“With this technology we can map the entire city and find its most opulent palaces and temples, the places most likely to house the elusive Lap of Luxury,” Sir Buddy says. “When we find it, it shall be my honor to be the first cat in more than two hundred years to settle into it, get comfortable and have a nice nap.”
LIDAR reveals the jungle’s secrets by peering through the trees and the thick blanket of foliage that has swallowed once-glorious cities.
One of the highlights of my trip to Japan last summer was Gotokuji Temple, the famous “cat shrine” in Tokyo’s Setagaya suburb.
Gotokuji is home to thousands of statues of maneki-neko, or “beckoning cat,” an important and ubiquitous image in Japan: Statues of maneki-neko adorn shops and virtually every public place in Tokyo, but Gotokuji is where the legend of the beckoning cat was born. Visitors write prayers on the statues and ask for good luck for a variety of venture, from opening new businesses to getting married.
There is, however, only one current feline resident at Gotokuji, while Kyoto’s Nyan Nyan Ji — literally “meow meow shrine” — is populated exclusively by feline “monks,” who wear monkly garb and take their duties — especially napping, er, meditating — very seriously.
The most recognizable of them is Koyuki, the chief cat priestess at Nyan Nyan Ji.
Here are some photos, all courtesy of the temple’s Instagram, showing what life is like for Koyuki and her fellow priests:
“This is how it’s supposed to be, humans: You kneeling before us. Those ancient Egyptians had it right.”“I can call upon powerful minions to smite you whenever I please.”
“Tiny humans are permitted to touch my holy personage.”“And here is the nursery, where it’s currently reading time for our kittens…”“Walk with me on the path to deliciousness…”“Read the sign! We’re not open until I says so. Now if you please, I have napping to do.”
As any cat owner servant knows, traveling is tough.
Not only do you have to make accommodations for your feline overlord(s) — including finding a reliable cat-sitter and writing a 32-page guide to properly caring for your kitties — there’s the issue of separation anxiety on both sides.
How can I sleep without Buddy using me as a mattress and walking on my face when he wants me to get up? Quite well, actually, but that’s beside the point.
A new site, Hotels With Cats, profiles resorts, hotels, AirBnBs and other accommodations throughout the world that feature cats on-premises. It’s basically a directory of cat-lovers who run hotels, for cat-lovers who love to travel.
Ashleigh Mills, the site’s founder, says she came up with the idea on a 2017 trip to Bali. While she was spending six glorious weeks in one of the Earth’s most beautiful places, she also missed her two cats terribly.
That’s when Tiger stepped in. The friendly tabby cat belongs to the people who run Geria Giri Shanti bungalows, and he served as Ashleigh’s feline companion for the duration of her stay.
“His presence soothed me when I missed my own cats,” Ashleigh wrote. As a bonus, “I knew I was giving my business to fellow animal lovers which was a good feeling as well.”
Tiger: A cat on a permanent vacation with a rotating cast of humans to cater to his needs. Credit: Hotels With Cats
Thus far Hotels With Cats has profiled kitty-occupied hotels, lodges and seaside bungalows in Greece, France, Italy, Spain, Australia, Malaysia, Indonesia and the US of A.
“You’re telling me you’re going to relax in the sun on some pristine beach while I sit here at home waiting for the cat-sitter to come by and shovel slop into my bowl? No way, dude. I’m coming with you.”
Your own cats might not be too keen on the deal. After all, they’re left at home without their favorite humans. But sometimes it’s okay to lie to your cats, and in this case a little fib — “Oh, there were no cats where we stayed!” — could prevent furry little egos from getting bruised.
I turn to look. This is the first bit of English I’ve heard all evening, and sure enough it’s directed at me, the blue-eyed, red-brown-haired, bearded ‘Merican who couldn’t blend into the crowd if I had a human-size Cuisinart.
“Come check it out,” says the speaker, a sharply-dressed guy in his 30s, gesturing toward a drinking establishment just off one of Shinjuku’s busiest streets. “I’ve got the girl of your dreams inside. You like Japanese women?”
“We’re good,” my brother says.
The salesman ignores him, singing his pitch like an R&B ballad.
“You like Japanese women, man? I know you do. We got Japanese women waiting to meet American guys.”
Shinjuku at night.
My trust in my brother is absolute, this bar dude is acting sketchy as hell, and I’m not that much of an idiot, so I take my bro’s cue and follow him toward the intersection.
“What was that all about?”
The guy who approached us was an extortionist, my brother explained. They’ll invite you into the club, let you order a few drinks but neglect to tell you the drinks are 10,000 yen each, or about $90 USD. If you refuse to pay they’ll call Tokyo police, who will take the word of a local business owner over the word of a tourist in what they see as a legitimate dispute.
“Or they’ll spike your drink,” my brother said, “take all your cash and run your credit cards to the limit.”
In Shinjuku even the side streets are illuminated.
Japan’s not the kind of place where you worry about pickpockets or getting jumped by local thugs, but it’s a mistake to assume crime doesn’t exist here.
Tokyo may be one of the world’s safest cities, a place where you can leave your door unlocked or leave your bike unattended while confident no one will steal it, yet tourists are universal easy prey.
While walking through Shinjuku’s busy streets I was reminded of an interview with the great novelist David Mitchell, who spent several years in Japan teaching English before returning to the UK.
Moving through Tokyo as a westerner unable to decipher Japanese writing, Mitchell noted, is like being cocooned in your own personal anti-advertising buffer. All that hiragana and katakana written in neon might as well be mood lighting — it’s there, but if you can’t understand it, it can’t invade your headspace.
Mitchell said he found that obliviousness calming and conducive to keeping to his own thoughts on writing. Being there in person and experiencing it for myself, I could appreciate his point.
Memory Lane, also known as Piss Alley, is lined with tiny restaurants.A cook preps skewers of meat in one of Shinjuku’s narrow-alley barbecue spots on Memory Lane, which are only big enough to accommodate a few patrons at a time.Another alley leading out of Memory Lane, a narrow alley lined with tiny eateries specializing in yakitori (barbecue skewers).Memory Lane is narrow, smoky and heavy with the smell of grilled meat.
Another famous feature of Shinjuku is the giant Godzilla head, which looks like the King of Monsters is looming just behind a pair of buildings overlooking the neighborhood’s central crossing.
Godzilla himself peeks out from behind a pair of buildings overlooking Shinjuku. Photo credit: Tokyo Creative
Pain In The Bud 