Cats Like to Play, and So Do People

Everyone knows that kittens like to play at stalking and pouncing. They’ll play with shoelaces, with toes, and even with their own tails. Children too, like to play, and we know that they are practicing grown-up skills in the process. 
But it isn’t just young cats that like to play—grown cats do too, exercising their cat skills on fabric mice and wand toys when real prey isn’t around. Books on cats stress that this is good for adult cats, that having regular opportunities to practice their cat skills makes for a happier cat. This makes me think about people, and how grown-ups enjoy playing and practicing their human skills.
One of my cats started me on this train of thought because she would meow at me for no apparent reason. She wanted something, but it wasn’t food. It wasn’t “out.” Petting? A lap to sit on? I couldn’t tell, and she can’t speak human. She liked to play on occasion, and once in a while she would even chase her tail, like a kitten. Da Bird used to be both cats’ favorite—a feathery toy that could be whizzed through the air or dragged on the ground—but too often it seemed like they lost interest quickly. So I didn’t get it out much.
As I worked on a sewing project, she started playing with bits of the fabric.This reminded me that some years ago I had tied leftover strips of fabric together to make a rope that could be dragged around. Our cats sometimes enjoyed chasing and catching it. So I got it out of their toy basket (yes, they have a little basket of cat toys) and played with her for a while. Then I hung it over the back of a chair and left it there.
That chair happens to be right near where she tends to sit and meow. So I started flicking the fabric strip in the air the next time she was meowing in her undecided way.
Turns out she has much more capacity for playing than I realized, with the right toy and the right timing. She grabbed the strip out of the air, she chased it around the house, and she had a great time chewing on the knots in it. Weeks later, she’s still enthusiastic about it.
It could be that she will get bored with the strip of cloth, but I did read that cats prefer toys that give them a feeling that they are making progress, not just in catching the toy, but in tearing it apart. The cloth strips are easy to catch with her claws and the fabric does shred a bit with every capture. Actually, they were unravelling so much that I sewed some new strips with bound edges, so I don’t have to worry so much about her swallowing threads. 
When I play with her and see how much she enjoys exercising her “kitty skills” of stalking and pouncing, I think about all the opportunities to play with her that I’ve missed. I also think about people—grown-up people. Are our lives better if we get regular opportunities to exercise our “human skills?” Do we get enough of the right sort of play?
It’s interesting to make a list of  human specialties and consider the games we play. We are tool-makers and –users, also language-users and social beings, and we used to be hunters and gatherers for our living. As kids, we play tag and other chasing games, hide-and-seek (searching), and various kinds of pretend. We build sand castles and mudpies, and we have singing games and tell stories and jokes.
We have virtual versions of all of these as well, but maybe we need some of the non-virtual, physical games, too, to engage our whole selves, body and mind.
Something to think about.
Till next post.

Christmas Carols and Klezmer–people can always surprise you

Just this morning I was looking at a schedule of events for my area and I was surprised to see a klezmer band listed. I noted down the date and time, and remembered a conversation with my father several years ago, a few years before he died.

He wasn’t doing well, either physically or mentally, and I was thinking about making him a music mix CD. I reasoned that he might not be able to play with his computer or get around much, but he could still listen to music. But what music would he enjoy?

I thought about all the music I could remember him enjoying during my childhood. Show tunes, maybe, or folk songs. Maybe Gilbert and Sullivan? The Firehouse Five?

So I asked him, “What kind of music do you like?”

I don’t remember the first kind he listed, but the second was klezmer.

Klezmer? Not only did I not know he liked it, I didn’t even know what it was.

“It’s Jewish jazz,” he said.

Eventually I made him a CD with selections of Christmas carols that he had always liked, and two klezmer pieces that I chose somewhat arbitrarily off iTunes. I played the CD for him once, and I don’t know whether he ever listened to it again. He probably forgot that it existed. But it made me feel as though I’d done something for him.

It also reminded me that people are full of surprises. Always.

Rest in peace.

In case you are curious, here are the carols (not necessarily the same version) available on Youtube, and links to the klezmer pieces.

“Still, still, still”

“Suber die glocken nie klingen”

“Il est ne, le divin enfant” 

“Approchez mes enfants”

“Entre le boef et l’ane gris”

“Un flambeau, Jeanette, Isabella”

“Doina” (The Klezmorim)

“The People’s Dance” (The Klezmorim) 30-second sample

The Diva’s Challenge #373 and Diversifying One’s Hobbies


This week, the Diva challenged everyone to draw a tangle using their non-dominant hand. This was, admittedly, a bit frustrating. It’s so much easier to control a pen with my usual hand. The results are a lot better, too.
A Zentangle Diva's Challenge #373 done with non-dominant hand
The Diva’s Challenge #373
On the other hand, it reminded me of something that’s been on my mind off and on for several years. We don’t know what the future holds for us. More specifically, we don’t know what capacities we may lose as time goes by.
What if I lost the use of my right (dominant) hand? I would haveto use the other hand to draw. It’s good to know that I can manage some sort of drawing with my left, if I have to. But it would be very distressing, nonetheless, as so many of my hobbies involve work with my hands.
Most of my hobbies also involve my eyes. So I ask myself, if I couldn’t see very well, what would I do for entertainment? I like music, but it isn’t a big part of my life. I could still listen to books, thankfully, though I find listening to books slow and rather frustrating since I can’t flip back easily to check earlier details. (This is especially awkward for mysteries.) I could still go for walks and I could still enjoy gardening to some degree, since I’ve always been interested as much in the scents of plants as in their appearance.
Other people have different hobbies that require different capacities. For people who love to go hiking or rafting, being unable to use their arms or legs well would take away a source of joy. Other people would hate to lose music. And for people who love to cook, losing their sense of taste would also mean losing a favorite activity—how can you enjoy cooking a new recipe if you can’t taste it?
My point is that I would be wise to cultivate some hobbies that don’t use exactly the same capacities that most of my other hobbies do. Maybe I should cultivate more large-motor activities, in case my fine-motor skills deteriorate some day. Maybe I should take more of an interest in music, or in conversation, in case my eyes give me trouble.
There is also the possibility that some day my cognitive skills will deteriorate (may that day be FAR away.) I will still have time to fill. Perhaps, in that case, familiar, simple tasks would be soothing.
What might these be? Knitting an endless scarf in garter stitch? Doing simple jigsaw puzzles? Peeling potatoes, maybe, as I remember Grandpere doing when he was no longer capable of cooking on his own? It seemed to me that he felt better when he was contributing in some way. Perhaps I should find out what activities people can generally manage in this situation and cultivate some of them. You can’t peel potatoes automatically if you haven’t peeled a whole lot of potatoes beforehand with attention.
Someone whose name I can’t remember came up with a chart that categorized activities as high- or low-energy, and high or low in sociability. His point (I think it was a he) was that people should cultivate some activities that fall into each of these four groups. Sometimes people’s energy levels will be low, in which case reading (low sociability) and doing jigsaw puzzles with other people (high sociability) might be good options. Or their energy levels might be fine, but there aren’t a lot of people to do things with, so they need some activities they can do by themselves, like going for a walk.
The recommendation was aimed at older people, but when you think about it, it’s a good idea at any age. I’m suggesting here that it just doesn’t go far enough.
Till next post.