The Ultimate Slackers
Jams has a picture and short post on the research, and here is a more scientific write-up on Felis sylvestris lybica, the ur-cat.
Via the San Diego Union the Washington Post article that got the ball roll of yarn unraveling: Scientists believe cats ‘sort of domesticated themselves’
WASHINGTON – Your hunch is correct. Your cat decided to live with you, not the other way around. The sad truth is, it may not be a final decision.
But don’t take this feline diffidence personally. It runs in the family. And it goes back a long way – about 12,000 years, actually.
Those are among the inescapable conclusions of a genetic study of the origins of the domestic cat, being published today in the journal Science.
The findings, drawn from the analysis of nearly a thousand cats around the world, suggest that the ancestors of today’s tabbies, Persians and Siamese wandered into Near Eastern settlements at the dawn of agriculture. They were looking for food, not friendship.
They found what they were seeking in the form of rodents feeding on stored grain. They stayed for 12 millennia, although not without wandering off now and again to consort with their wild cousins.
If they master a can opener, they are gone. We grew the grain that attracted the mice that reduced the work involved in getting a meal, so they hung around and pretended to like humans.
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The late great Isaac Asimov said something very similar a long time ago. His perspective was the human one, not the feline: cats saved human agriculture from rodents, and therefore saved H. sapiens from extinction.
(The book in which I found Asimov’s essay is in the back seat of the car at the moment, and it’s the wee hours of the morning right now, or I would offer a more specific reference.)
I’ve encountered raccoons whose potential ability to work a can opener concerned me greatly. With cats, I’m not so worried. This relationship could last another 12,000 years… that is, if we humans have got another 12,000 years before we drive ourselves to extinction.
we might be in trouble…
Maybe cats domesticated humans.
The “Fur People” adopt us. It truly isn’t the other way around. Although…I have always found amusing the Diary of the Dog vs. Diary of the Cat
The Dog’s Diary
8:00 am – Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am – A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am – A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 am – Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 pm – Milk bones! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm – Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 pm – Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 pm – Dinner! My favorite thing!
7:00 pm – Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm – Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm – Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
The Cat ’s Diary
Day 983 of my captivity.
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects.
They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength.
The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet. Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates my capabilities.
However, they merely made condescending comments about what a “good little hunter” I am.
There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of “allergies.” I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.
Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow, but at the top of the stairs.
I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches.
The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released, and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded. The bird must be an informant. I observe him communicate with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now…
Isaac was a fascinating character, although he occasionally decided to be a devil’s advocate for no known reason and there was no clue as to whether he was serious, or being seriously annoying for the joy if it. Some people claimed he did it so if the facts trended against him he could say he was kidding, others, who tended to know him better, said he did it when he knew the facts were against him just to be ornery.
He is being accurate in his assessment, though. The one time people ignored the wisdom of the cats and started a effort to wipe them out, it nearly wiped people out. During plague outbreaks cats were blamed in some areas and killed. This, of course, reduced the defenses against the rats that were the carriers of the fleas that spread the plague.
Down here people have wiped out the large snakes that once controlled the rodent population, so without the cats, we would be overrun by the Norway rats that people brought into the area on ships. As Dirk Gently knew, things are connected.
Hmm, Hipparchia, just hmm.
I know it’s true for some people, Whig.
Yep, Jill – dogs have owners, cats have staff.
A sign seen at the Hemingway House in Key West, wherein lives a collection of the famous six-toed cats:
To a dog, you’re family. To a cat, you’re staff.
They really need to impose some controls on those cats, MB. They are over populating and inbreeding. That isn’t any better for cats, than people.
“To a dog, you’re family. To a cat, you’re staff.” – MB
At the very moment I was reading that, Samantha brushed my right foot to remind me that it’s late and time to stop messing with the computer and go to bed. Samantha has plenty of food and water available at the moment, but nonetheless returned about a minute later to remind me again. If family isn’t about mutual comfort and looking out for each other, I don’t know what family is. Staff, MFA.
G’night, all; I’m going to follow Samantha this time.
sounds like they are doing some population control on the hemingway cats now, though the faq is a bit vague on the exact amount of inbreeding that goes on.
Steve, Sam needed to use the computer to check EBay and wanted you out of the way.
It’s an island, Hipparchia, there isn’t likely to be a lot of new blood showing up, and the females would stay in the “hunting” territory.
Hmm. Samantha does like the comfy computer chair… OTOH, if she were following a high-stakes auction on eBay, would she do that herself? Wouldn’t she instead assign it to her highly paid professional staff? 🙂
She might be buying something for Tabitha as a bribe for the sunny spot.
people abandon their pet cats everywhere else in this country. no reason to believe that key west is immune. but, yeah, probably not many cats swimming over there from the mainland.
Or jogging down US-1. If you had a cat that would put up with the trip to Key West, you wouldn’t abandon it, but some may have decided to leave boats or cars rather than make the return trip. In any case, there can’t be much genetic diversity. In addition to TNR, they should cut a deal with a mainland program to exchange toms.
i once drove [well, somebody else did the driving] from here to key west for a scuba diving trip. in a leaky convertible in the rain. i was sorely tempted to stay there, just to avoid the ride back.
an exchange program… i could send them a couple of tailless cats to go with the extra toes. i’ve always liked polydactyls. i wonder how long it would take that gene to migrate through the cat population to this end of the state.
The danger of polydactyls is that they are more likely to master a can opener.