I'd like to say up front that, despite the title of this little article, I am by no means a "cat lady." I take an active interest in the lives of specific cats and also happen to be a happily single, independent woman. Rather, I like to think of myself as an avid feline advocate as well as defender of the English language. It has occurred to me lately that our little dialect of American English makes use of several bizarre, inaccurate idioms involving cats. I have now taken it upon myself to champion my two favorite causes, the feline and words.
Thus, popular sayings as defined by my cats:
The cat's pajamas: This term, popularized in the 1920s, is attributed to a one Mr. Thomas A. Dorgan. The slang phrase generally indicates preference or excellence as in, "Wow, Todd, dinner and a movie would really be the cat's pajamas!"
My cat Buttons once had an adorable red-and-orange-plaid visor which she refused to wear. Despite the inherent hilarity of a cat wearing what is ostensibly a hat, Buttons shunned the accessory in a vehement and painful manner. I submit that cats hate wearing clothing in general. The notion that a pajama clad cat is excellent, nay, possible is a ridiculous one. Perhaps the irony inherent in describing one as the cat's pajamas is what endows the phrase with such delightfully quirky appeal.
Buttons would disagree.
Cat got your tongue?: As I hope everyone is aware, this phrase is used in situations when an individual finds themselves unable to speak due to fear, embarrassment, shyness or some other negative emotion. It seems generally to be used in a demeaning tone, for example: "So, who are you inviting to the Winter Fest Dance this year, Jessie? I'll bet you're running out of cousins. Whatsamatter - oh, cat got your tongue?"
The implication behind this nonsensical phrasing is that a cat, in some mysterious way, impairs one's ability to speak freely. Whether this impairment is physical, emotional or mental, I have not the slightest clue. All I know is that this phrase is rubbish!
I have always found that cats are some of the most excellent, receptive listeners one is likely ever to find. For example, four years ago I struck up a very mature friendship with a young gentlemen I had met over the Internet. We spoke for hours about the opera, our favorite British soap operas and various other subjects. It was a respectful, pleasant relationship lasting over three months. So, you can imagine my surprise to discover that Cecil was convicted of several felonies I will not specify here for personal reasons.
Well, after this unfortunate turn I found myself talking almost nightly instead to my kitten, Baby Ruth. She would sit on my pillow and comfort me. In time I found her to be just as good a conversationalist as Cecil - maybe even better. She is warm, patient and witty: in short, the perfect buddy. And, her knowledge of German opera is incredible.
Curiosity killed the cat: I have no knowledge of where this twisted, heinous phrase originated. It is commonly used in situations to ward off unwelcome inquiry into one subject or another, i.e. "Never look in daddy's sock drawer; it isn't for little girls. It's his private business and no one else's, not even mommy's. Remember, curiosity killed the cat!"
My tabby, Tinkerbell, loves to poke about in all the empty boxes in my dining room. She hides in them, scratches at them and whenever I get a new teapot or figurine, I'm sure to leave the box out for Tinkerbell to inspect. Well, one fine spring day last year I was returning a defective wicker jewelry basket and somehow or other, Tink found her way into the box, which I promptly sent back to Illinois. My mailman Doug informed me that Tink had been found in the box days later but luckily that particular shipment had been accidentally routed to none other than Maryland's own Kitten Fun Farm!
Therefore, it seems curiosity (in addition to being simply adorable) can actually be beneficial for the bold, adventurous housecat.
Catnap: The concept of a catnap is a strange one. Akin in the language to the expression "40 winks," a catnap refers to a brief, fleeting period of rest, as in, "Don't tell me I'm not fine to drive. I just need a little coffee and a quick catnap and we'll leave, Cheryl." And yet in my experience, cats are some of the most sound sleepers to walk the earth! The picture of the pudgy feline lolling in some sunny spot asleep is unfamiliar to no one so the idea that a catnap would be brief is altogether strange.
My calico, Buxton, has been sleeping by the living room radiator to two full weeks now! Noise, food, nothing wakes him! I actually rang the folks at Guinness several times to see if Buxton's nap signifies any kind of record. They are extremely dodgy on the phone, and I'm beginning to wonder about their credibility. But suffice it to say that cats are powerful sleepers!
Well, those are all the phrases I have for now. I encourage you, wherever you may be - a party, office gathering or chatroom to correct your fellow revelers should you hear one of them perpetuating such fallacious idiomatic expressions. After all, a cat may have nine lives but we humans only have this paltry one in which to be grammatically correct.
I'd better bring her a teddy bear or something.
