Ne’er has there been, nor ever will there be, a more inquisitive creature than a feline. But curiosity rests not at the pinnacle of this trait, although it likely represents a vast majority.
How often I comprehend from just a look the inquiry hiding behind the predator’s eyes. How easily I discern from a simple meow the probing to which I submit myself. How cunning the interrogator as they manipulate me at depths I ne’er before comprehended.
A treat, you say? Throw the ball? Pet you until your purring rumbles the furniture about the room?
These things and a great many other clear requests—sometimes demands—flow through the air betwixt cat and me as easily as water streams between riparian grounds. By look or voice, or both, questions stream forth clear as the typed word.
And I answer, for it is mine to do so… my obligation, my right, my joy.
Could—would—any other be so inclined or capable?