Why do Cats Respond Strangely to the Piano?
Taillight at the Piano |
Our former cat,
Moonlight, would jump up onto the brown bench next to me, stare at me for a
while, walk right across the keys (and my hands) while I was playing, then jump
to the top of the upright piano and knock the metronome right onto my head. I miss that cat.
We
lost Moonlight in November. We had adopted her as a kitten in the first few
months of the COVID shut-downs, and she gave us joy and laughter in the middle
of a difficult season. She was exotically beautiful with jet black short-hair and
big green eyes, and she lounged around the house like a miniature panther.
Moonlight was also remarkably tolerant of my three children and allowed herself
to be carried around the house like a rag doll without complaint (until I could
intervene.)
Moonlight Tolerating the Children |
We finally got Moonlight spayed in the fall. In my community, this was not easy to accomplish. Thankfully, a local pet welfare group arranged for a mobile spay and neuter clinic to come to our valley. I waited in line an hour and a half to drop that cat off. And then an hour and a half in line again to pick her up. It was a hassle- but finally, Moonlight was spayed.
And
a week later she disappeared, breaking all of our hearts. I’d gladly wait
another three hours in line somewhere to find her again. Sometimes I dream that
we’ve finally found her- but then I wake up, and she's still gone.
One
result of our heartbreak is that we have invited our out-door cat, Taillight, to
come inside more often. She is thrilled
at this change and would probably spend all her time inside if not for that pesky
4-year-old.
Last
night I was practicing the piano as usual. Taillight was intrigued. She walked
over and sat next to me right on the bench. I expected her to jump on the keys
as Moonlight would have done, but instead she just sat next to me.
In her honor, I
began to play “Memory” from the musical “Cats.” Taillight seemed to be enjoying
the music, at least until I began to sing. She looked at me, leaned on me with both
her paws for a few stanzas, and then when I hit the highest note with my voice,
she surged up and bit me right on the cheek.
I stopped playing
and stared at her.
Then I tried again.
I began to sing and play, “Midnight, not a sound from the pavement- has the
moon lost her memory…”
And that cat bit
me on the cheek again!
For the remainder
of my practice session, I sang very little. Taillight sat next to me, and
anytime I started to sing (especially high notes), she would look at me with a
threatening glare and raise up her body until I finally stopped making that
noise.
"Play, but do not sing, human woman." |
The only conclusion I can draw is that Taillight likes the piano, but she does not care for my singing voice.
Do your cats do anything unusual when you play music?
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