What I've learned from cats

Back in the 1980s, I shared my life with two cats, a mother and daughter combo. Smoky was the mother’s name, and Mushy was her daughter. They were as different in personality as two cats could possibly be. Smoky was in a constant state of snit, whereas Mushy was in a constant state of happiness. Even when Smoky was a new mother, she seemed irritated by the constant need that her kittens had for her. Perhaps what annoyed Smoky was that her daughter was a much happier cat than she was. It’s hard to know. I loved them both and respected their different personalities. Both of them were affectionate in their own ways. Smoky’s affection was on her terms; she came to you when she needed some stroking or a hug, but didn’t always take kindly to being petted or fussed over if you wanted to give her some affection. Mushy was the complete opposite (hence her name); she was a people-pleaser and loved nothing more than to go from one guest to another for some affection and cuddling when I had family and friends visiting. Before I moved to Norway, my friend Cindy suggested I stay with her for a few months in order to save some money, which was a wonderful idea and one for which I am very grateful to her. However, it involved moving myself and my two cats into her home, something that Cindy’s cat Burgoo did not take very kindly to. He was used to ruling the roost and was very territorial about his house, especially the kitchen, which was of course the one room in the house where we all liked to congregate. My cats did not exactly know how to deal with him initially; he would pick fights with them (especially Smoky) no matter how much berth they gave him when they walked past him. Smoky especially did not like him, something he must have sensed very early on. Their fights escalated in intensity and ended with her being relegated to the cellar in order to prevent her being injured by him, since he was larger than both my cats and quite aggressive. I spent a lot of time in the cellar with her after that. With Smoky out of the way, Burgoo tolerated having Mushy around. He permitted her entrance into the kitchen, on his terms of course. And those terms translated into her becoming a completely subservient cat. She would slink past him, body hugging the ground, not looking at him. Her behavior signaled ‘harmless’; it also signaled to him that she would not and did not want to fight him, oppose him or take control of anything he ‘owned’. She was willing to let him rule the roost whereas Smoky was not. Smoky did not take kindly to any person or any other cat telling her what she should or should not do, and she was certainly not willing to become subservient in order to deal with the situation. Looking back on it now, I wish it could have been otherwise. I wish I had not put them through that stress, even though I found a good home for them afterward where they both were happy. Had I had wanted to take them with me to Norway, they would have spent over four months in quarantine before being allowed into the country (those were the rules at that time), something I did not want to put them through since they were already older cats.

I learned some things while watching and taking care of Smoky and Mushy when we lived in Cindy’s house. The first was that Mushy was none the worse for wear after her short stay in Burgoo’s house; she adapted to that situation and dealt with it in the best way she could. When she and her mother went to live in my friend Judy’s house, she adapted to that situation as well and became a beloved member of Judy’s family, which included a dog and two cats from before. Smoky also adapted in her own way, but stayed mostly to herself, as I might have expected. I’ve thought a lot about both of my cats since then, and about how they adapted to change, new situations, and potential threats. I have a bit of both Smoky and Mushy in me. I haven’t backed away from a fight if felt that I was threatened or if I found myself in an unfair situation; I have not had any problems stating my opinion or making my wishes known. I haven’t had major problems with change, although it does take me a while to adapt to new situations. And if change or unfair situations threaten me or those I care about, I am more likely to respond as Smoky did. But what if Mushy’s way is the better way? What if choosing not to fight gets you what you want? Mushy did not want to end up living in the cellar like Smoky; she wanted to make sure she could always be in my vicinity. So she gave Burgoo what he wanted in order to get what she wanted, which was me. She was smart. I don’t know how she figured that out, but she did. And she definitely understood that the cellar was not where she wanted to be; she avoided going down there when I went to visit with Smoky. Mushy wanted to be with me and with people generally; she cared more about that than about doing what she had to do to appease Burgoo. She appeased the aggressor. I have to wonder how she knew how to do that, and why Smoky could not learn that behavior. But we humans don’t always manage that either; some of us will fight forever against what threatens us and it can end up literally killing us (stress, heart attacks, poor health). Whereas some of us will try to appease those who want to keep us down or take us down, by giving in, letting it happen, dealing with it and moving on. I have a hard time with that. I have a hard time ‘giving in’ especially in situations where I know that being in opposition would be the more ethical and fair way to proceed, for example, in work situations where workplace leaders harass others unfairly because they sit in power positions. But let’s suppose that appeasement might get you what you want, e.g. to an organizational level where you could make a difference? Where you could fight for the rights of those you meant were treated unfairly? I suppose what I’m trying to say is that you’ve got to strategize; you’ve got to give in order to get in a world that is not fair from the get-go. Strange that I should be learning that now at this point in my life. But now the goals are clear and more important than trying to change unfair and unethical leaders into fair and ethical ones. I am not the person who is best suited to taking on that fight, and I’m not sure I ever was.  

What cats have taught me

I have been a cat owner for most of my adult life, and have learned a lot from them by watching their behavior in different situations. Unlike dogs, they are quite independent and somewhat antisocial. Or rather, they choose when they want to be social. All of my cats had different personalities. The first two were a mother-daughter pair that came into my life in 1980. The mother, Smoky, was a feisty loner type; her daughter, Mushy (so named because she was so affectionate), was the opposite. She loved being around people, she loved being picked up and hugged, and she didn’t mind at all when the children I babysat for occasionally put doll shoes on all four paws. My husband used to call her a 'non-cat'. She never hissed at or nipped anyone. I don’t think I ever saw her get angry, except at her mother, when they both competed for my attention and affection when I was sitting on the couch relaxing in the evenings. She was an extraordinarily well-rounded cat, and I’ve never had another cat quite like her since. Being social came easy for Mushy, even with other cats, but not with her mother. She tolerated her mother, but not much more. I often wonder if it was because she knew that her mother didn’t really want any involvement at all with other cats or with people generally. She liked to be left alone, and I’m sure that annoyed Mushy at times. I remember when a little kitten joined us a few years later; I named her Minou. Mushy immediately became her ‘mother’, washing her, playing with her, and following her around the house as Minou explored it. Watching her do this endeared her to me completely. Smoky wanted nothing to do with either one of them; she mostly wanted to be left alone, and if Minou bothered her, she hissed at her. Minou quickly learned, and avoided Smoky as much as possible. Unfortunately, she did not live long, succumbing to a feline viral infection, which broke my heart. I am convinced that Mushy had empathy; she was intuitive, she understood in her way if someone was sick or if another animal needed help. She understood that Minou was sick and I think she understood that Minou wasn’t coming home from the veterinary hospital. Smoky remained unaffected by it all. Mushy also understood if I was sick or depressed, and was good company at those times. I loved them both, but it is Mushy’s way of being that I remember all these years later, because I think she was on to something. I remember when I moved in with my friend Cindy several months before I moved to Norway; she had a male cat, Burgoo, who did not take kindly to having his territory invaded. The house that we shared was quite large, but Burgoo made sure that Mushy and Smoky had limited access to most of it. Smoky and Burgoo fought so intensely that we had to physically keep them apart; Smoky ended up living in the basement while Burgoo had the first floor along with Mushy. What surprised me is that Mushy did not engage with Burgoo at all; she understood that he did not want her there, and her body language told him that she accepted that. When she passed him, her head and tail were down in a submissive posture, and she slunk along the floor. He never attacked her or went after her. When she saw me, she was her old self—affectionate and loving. Mushy was mostly adaptable and tolerated change, even though I know it made her anxious at times. As long as she saw me during anxious times, it calmed her. Smoky did not adapt and did not tolerate change. I loved the both of them to pieces, but could not take them with me to Norway, as they would have sat in quarantine for six months or more before being allowed into the country, and I didn’t have the heart to do that to them. Another friend of mine, Judy, was kind enough to take them both; she could tell me some time later that it didn't take Mushy long to become a part of her family, which included a husband, several children, a dog and two other cats. That made me happy; unfortunately, Smoky did not seem to adjust to her new family, disappeared, and did not return, which upset me a lot when I heard about it.

I was thinking about Mushy and Smoky today, because I realize that I have a little bit of both of them in me in response to dealing with major life changes and with a workplace that prizes networking and being socially and politically adaptable. Work environments often reflect societal trends; the emphasis in most workplaces these days is on networking, collaboration, communication, being a team player, and being creative and spontaneous in a group setting, all things that were not emphasized as much in my generation of scientists. We were rather encouraged to be loner types, independent and assertive thinkers, quietly creative, able to defend our ideas, able to work alone and to enjoy being alone. Being an astute assessor of the political landscape around us was not deemed very important. The current emphasis is on interacting and working together with other employees, listening to others, adapting to group dynamics, understanding workplace politics, sharing ideas, taming your individual will, being patient and not being a loner type. Those who succeed in the current workplace are good at these things. I used to think that Mushy would have benefited from learning to take on a challenge and to fight like her mother Smoky, but these days I’ve come to see the value in avoiding or not provoking conflict, maintaining some semblance of peace, trying to adapt to change as best one can, and flying under the radar in difficult times. But it's good to have people in your life (a spouse and/or friend) that you know will be there for you--constants in a life filled with uncertainties--especially during difficult times.