Hi, I’m Christopher! Read my introduction to learn more about me and my silly Russian Blue cat, Olga.

Cats find creative ways to get our attention, but some of their techniques are more cunning than others. Although dogs are more famous for their begging skills than cats, Olga has developed a system that encourages me to feed her earlier than her usual dinnertime. It was unnecessary before I worked at home, and over the years, she’s modified her methods.

Most pet cats, even the affectionate ones, are somewhat manipulative. Their instincts influence their behavior, but their intelligence helps them discover new ways to irritate their owners. In the wild, they don’t need to beg or depend on humans for food or entertainment.

They may devise a plan to steal a rodent’s carcass from a littermate, but most felines, except those in feral colonies, are solitary hunters. Wild cats don’t need to be manipulative, but housecats have learned to prey on our emotions.

They haven’t been domesticated for as long as dogs, but the recently discovered grave of an 8-month-old cat buried next to their owner in Cyprus suggests cats have been annoying humans for nearly 10,000 years. Like her ancestors, Olga knows how to influence people and makes Dale Carnegie proud.

If she wants to sit on the windowsill, she starts by grinding her claws on the wood molding. Then, she stands on her hind legs and hits the blinds. If I don’t open the blinds and let her sit down, she escalates her attack by jamming a paw into the blind and slamming it back and forth into the wall. If I shout or tell her to stop, she backs off momentarily before resuming the mischief.

She knows I have a breaking point, and even if I chase her away from the window, she won’t relent until I pull the blinds up. Her begging routine is subtle at first, but as her hunger grows, she becomes more impatient and bolder. Her normal dinnertime is around 5 PM, but the subtle begging begins around 2:30. She wakes up from her 10th nap of the day, sits near the entrance to my office, and stares at me.

After an hour of ignoring her, she’ll move closer and sit on the windowsill since it’s to the left of my computer screen. I can see her glare in my peripheral vision when I’m typing, but I’ve learned to ignore her and avoid eye contact. She’ll grunt and stand up if I return her stare, and eventually, she’ll get tired of waiting and find other ways to grab my attention. She’ll run into the bathroom, jump in the bathtub, and howl.

I didn’t think cats were intelligent enough to understand the principles of acoustics, but Olga knows that her voice is amplified when she screams in the tub. Next, she jumps on the sink and knocks my toothpaste or contact lens case on the floor. I respect her for trying the gentle approach before resorting to violence, and while I don’t like to be manipulated by humans, I don’t mind when Olga is devious.