Ever wondered why little Tiddles never gives you a high five?  Perhaps its because you’re putting out the wrong hand.

Psychologists from Queen’s University in Belfast have discovered that much like people, cats can be either right or left handed.  The feline-curious researchers set cats different tasks including retrieving tuna from jars too small for their heads, pawing at a toy mouse suspended from a string or watching which hand they write with (okay I made that one up).  Different sexes of cats tended to favour different paws, with females favouring the right paw and males favouring the left.

Two conclusions can be reached from these findings:

1. Cats can be either right or left pawed.
2. Scientists have too much time on their hands.

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Researchers at the University of Sussex have identified a specific type of purr that cats use to manipulate their owners.  Whereas a normal purr will indicate that a cat is happy or content, this is an attention-seeking purr designed to attract the attention of their owners.

I’m not sure if this is true or not, but I can testify, as a cat owner, that Angel often jumps up onto the bed in the morning purring exceptionally loudly and kneading us with her paws.  It feels like a kind of ‘naughty purr’ as if she knows she’s waking us up but, frankly, doesn’t care.  Any path to breakfast is a road worth travelling.

It’s an interesting theory.  Read more on the BBC news site.

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Both Tiffany and I had cats growing up so when we got our first place together in 2003 we wanted to share it with a kitten. Unfortunately for us, we had moved in around December, entirely the wrong time of year to readily get our hands on one. However, just one month later, we received a call from my brother-in-law with an exciting opportunity for us.

One of his colleagues, Barry, was moving down to England and would not be able to take his cat with him. We were therefore asked if we would be interested in looking after an 18 month old tortoiseshell cat called Angel.

My immediate thought was “Angel?” Who on Earth would voluntarily name a cat Angel? I’d look like a right sissy standing at the bottom of the garden shouting “Angel?  Angel? Where are you my little Angel?” for all the neighbours, postmen, binmen and burglars to hear. The name Angel alone was reason enough to say no thanks.  Especially when I could get an unnamed kitten and call it “BlunderCat” or something equally as profound!

Also, because she was already 18 months old, we’d missed that cute kitten phase.  And too late to train her to drive down to the shops to fetch me snacks.  Nevertheless, we decided to go and at least see the cat to help make the decision.

The address led us to a top floor flat overlooking Pittencrief Park in Dunfermline. Barry invited us inside, leading us though to his living room, where we found the most beautiful cat bouncing around the room. I was immediately drawn to how strange she was to look at, thanks to a line going perfectly down the centre of her face, giving her a tan half and a black half (and making her look like the cat equivalent of the Batman villain “Two-face”). She was as skinny as a whippet and we were told that she had never gone outside as Barry had always lived in flats.

Of course, the instant we saw her we had made the decision to take her home with us.

Angel is now 7 years old and we’ve never looked back.  She goes outside to bounce around the garden whenever she can persuade Tiff or myself to open the back door.  She’s also rather large due to her love of gourmet food and lazing around.

So today’s blog serves as an introduction to Angel.  I’m sure that she’ll be featured a lot over the course of this webcomic.

Angel, internet audience.  Internet audience, Angel.

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