It’s Every Kitty for Himself: Mysterious Feline Intuition Explained

Mom’s visits to Los Angeles are usually chock-a-block full of shopping, eating rich foods and flirting with her fair share of smokin’ hot actor-waiters.  Her first earthquake, however, an unexpected addition to her itinerary, was not your run-of-the-mill apparition under the bed sort of fare.  It was a thirty second 4.2 magnitude adventure ride less than a mile from the epicenter, much like the Universal Studios ride she never wanted.  As dishes shattered against dining room cupboards, she ushered us into what she thought was a safe environment – the broom closet.  ‘Not the best choice, mom,’ I said, as we were about to be concussed by loose bottles of detergent inching their way toward shelf edges.  Prior to the first shake I’d noticed that my showboating kitty (pleased to lavish mom with some tourist-y attention) was nowhere to be found.  One minute he’s showing off, executing multiple belly rolls and the next he’s bolting to his safe haven under the bed.

So, how did he know?  More importantly, why didn’t he warn me?

We all know the answer to the second question.  When it comes down to it, it’s every mouser for himself.  But how are cats so intuitive?

There is no scientific proof with regard to cats’ abilities to predict earthquakes with their feline intuition, but scientists theorize that cats have a sensitivity to the earth’s magnetic fields.  Others indicate that felines’ general sensitivity allows them to feel the smaller tremors before a larger earthquake.  When it comes to other impending dangers, cats’ hearing abilities can tip them off when it’s time to be scarce.  Their ears amplify sound waves two to three times for frequencies between 2000 and 6000 Hertz (Hz), allowing them to identify the locations of their prey as well as those of possible predators wishing to cause them harm.  While we can hear a nearby dog barking, our furball family members’ hearing enables them to hear sounds four to five times farther away than humans, including the ultrasonic calls of rodents.

Cats also have a keen sense of our moods and they act accordingly.  When my father became ill my very first cat, Frisky, refused to budge from the foot of his bed.  He soon acquiesced (as we all do), navigating his long legs around the lump of fur stationed on self-imposed humanoid watch.  There is also the infamous case of Oscar, the resident intuitive kitty at the Steere House Nursing and Rehabilitation Center in Providence, who predicts, within hours, when a patient is about to pass.  The nursing staff know to alert family the second Oscar jumps on a resident’s bed and nestles in for his vigil.

My cat emerged about an hour after the shaking ceased, pleased with himself for surviving yet another disaster and looking shocked that we’d made it through.  My mom burned through nearly a bottle of chardonnay, allowing my kitty to burn through her salmon leftovers.  She hopped a flight the next day, promising future trips with ‘meet somewhere in the middle’ sprinkled in, meaning somewhere not on a major fault line.  My cat, however, is a trooper.  I’d like to think that he loves me enough to stick by me through it all – earthquakes, multiple moves, Civil War-like Fourth of July celebrations outside of our humble East L.A. home – but we all know it’s the free food and comfortable perches, which is just fine by me.

Tell us about your experiences with cat intuition in the comments below!