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.
