Today should have been the day of the new windows, but the firm rang up earlier in the week to delay fitting. They have lost some fitters, or something, and didn't have a team of four available. It's a pity, though at least we hadn't got round to taking the curtains down. I was rather starting to look forward to the new windows, and today would have been a perfect day to effectively take the end off the dining room, and then lift the enormous replacement unit into place (I'm surprised they can do it with only four). Let's hope that by the fresh date in the second week of December, it's not snowing, pouring, or blowing a gale.
At least the postman brought my lost parcel. He said it didn't need to be signed for, which leaves me wondering why in that case they couldn't simply have left it in the porch last time, but it is better not to enquire too closely into the inner workings of the Royal Mail. It would be too much like trying to work out what the big, anxious tabby is thinking, to which the answer is, nothing that you could comprehend. The parcel arrived undamaged and in time for Christmas. Rejoice.
I wasn't convinced by the conclusions of some Japanese researchers quoted in the Independent, that cats can recognise their owners' voices, but never evolved to care. If cats are played recordings of their owner's voice, and some stranger's voices, they respond differently to the owner's voice, but don't go to the sound source in any of the tests. According to the Independent, the researchers interpreted this in terms of the differing evolutionary histories of cats, which hunted in homes but on their own, and dogs, which hunted in co-operation with people. The Independent doesn't mention whether the experimenters actually repeated the test on dogs: unless they did, with a different result, it doesn't seem justified to drag dogs into it at all.
Cats care about the difference between their owners and strangers. If they didn't, two of ours wouldn't disappear from sight the second a stranger, or even a repeat visitor, walks through the front door, only to return to their favoured spots in the sitting room or the hall within ten minutes of the strangers having driven away, looking completely relaxed. The Systems Administrator says then when I get home from work, the first signal, before the SA has heard my car, is often that the cats lift up their heads, look animated, and trot off towards the front door. They certainly don't show the same response to the postman, and we could do some quite interesting experiments testing what it is they are responding to, if we felt that strongly about it. Can they tell the difference between my car and other cars? My style of driving and other drivers? Do they keep tabs of who is already in the house, so that if we are both there they know it isn't either of us arriving?
I am afraid that all the Japanese experimenters have shown is that cats don't approach a sound source that is emitting a human voice, in the absence of a visible human. If your cat can see you, and you make eye contact and look encouraging, or bend slightly and rub your finger and thumb gently together, it often will come over to you. My first, great childhood cat and I had a game whereby I would stand at one end of the sofa and call him, and he would walk to me along the back of the sofa, then I'd go to the other end, and we'd do it again. We could keep that up for ages. One of the first cats the SA and I had would come in from the garden if you rapped on the window and signalled to him through the glass. Our current lot often spontaneously begin to purr when we look and them and speak to them, even when we aren't touching them. Strange cats will often come and see you, if you look friendly. Certainly cats are not generally trainable in the way that dogs can be taught to follow commands, but that isn't to say that they don't notice people, or like some people while avoiding others.
I spent a happy day weeding in the long bed, until it got dark ridiculously early. Thursdays are Classic FM request afternoons, as Radio 3 is devoted to opera. I had to smile at all the people who claimed to need cheering up because it was cold, or because winter was depressing, or who were looking back to summer or forward to spring, when we haven't even had Christmas yet. It wasn't really cold at all, as long as you were properly wrapped up, and already there are bulbs coming through, and signs of life. Winter is not a dead season, when you look closely.
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