What I Sing to My Cat at Night

Long ago, I developed the habit of singing to my cats, each in their time. For some, it was simply while they snuggled in my lap. With others, it was while I sat on the floor brushing them. They never minded that I sing out of tune. In fact, they all love it. I think there are two reasons for this.

When I sing, I’m sure they feel the vibrations and think I’m purring and love them. And when I sing, I am giving them true quality time and there’s not a feline alive who does not love to be cherished.

I usually only have one cat at a time. Years ago, in NJ, I had a brother and sister pair, for a while. Later, we had a few scurrying around when one suddenly discovered “boys” and had litters one after another until we took her to the vet. But in the past 35 years, it’s always been just one at a time. There have been 3 in that time.

Of those, the earliest was Amber. We didn’t brush her. She was a strong indoor-outdoor gal with a strong, strong preference for outdoors. And with that, she tended to shed her hair outside easily enough, rubbing whatever she could. So, with Amber, I sang while we snuggled. Her favorite was You Are My Sunshine.

Next, there was Tigger. This little guy loved the attention and loved being brushed. He liked me to sing an assortment of songs. Sometimes it was You Are My Sunshine, other times, some old 1940s tunes.

This one, however, Silkie, is an odd one. I’ve been brushing her routinely every night for a year or so. I tried every song in my head. She put up with them and she loved the brushing and attention. But nothing really grabbed her. I don’t know what made me sing, one night about a month ago, Knick Knack Paddy Whack. She really, really loves it. 

I do substitute some words. For instance, she’s all cat, all feline - I can’t sing “give the dog a bone.” So, I sing “give the girl a phone.” I’m sure she wouldn’t know what to do with a phone, but I feel much better doing that. I also don’t sing “up in heaven,” because I don’t want to think of losing her so soon, so I sing “like up in heaven.”

She likes this so much, if I don’t see her when it’s brush-time, I just plop on the floor and begin the song, and she comes running.

She’s notoriously uninterested in coming when I call her otherwise. If she’s out on the driveway, there’s no way I can coax her in without literally going outside and pushing her plump little bottom towards the back steps. 

But I think I have her number now - next time I want her highness to come home, I’ll go outside and start singing “Knick Knack Paddy Whack.” And she’ll come running. And the neighbors will throw shoes at me for singing off key. And I’ll get stuck brushing her because she’s sure that’s what goes with the song. Oh, well - that’s her lot in life - to train me.