Hearing Cat

My devotion to the hearing cat has returned. I want one. I need one. I must have one.

Let me begin from the beginning. A few years ago, I started a new job and was handed a large sheaf of papers on their healthcare plans. The company offered a special program that would cover expenses not covered by the standard plans. Among the papers on this program was a helpful list of examples of expenses that would be included. Long-term psychiatric care. Acupuncture. A seeing eye dog. A hearing cat.

This was excellent news. Although I had never heard (ha!) of a hearing cat, I knew immediately that I would need one. Having worked for large companies before, I was certain that I would be invited to attend many meetings at which I did not really need to be present. The hearing cat would be my…well, if not eyes, at least my ears. My kitty would keep me apprised of the goings on via what I have to assume would be a complicated system of sign language in which opposable thumbs played no role.

Not only would my new cat help out in the open, I could send it to sit in on meetings to which I had not been invited. It would collect valuable – or at least entertaining – information about all manner of confidential matters. I just had to figure out how to get it into the room. I considered building a set of tunnels but discarded the idea as arousing too much suspicion. I settled on getting a lightweight model cat (say a Siamese), and letting it loose in the ceiling. How to get it home was easily resolved: instead of homing training (which must generate its own expenses), I decided that a nice bowl of Fancy Feast at the junction above my desk would be sufficient to bring the cat back to its roost.

You can see why I was so excited.

Despite my extensive planning, I never did order my cat. Somewhere along the line, I became skeptical that a cat was sufficiently trainable. No cat I have ever known has responded to anything except its own interests. Why would it possibly take detailed notes on my behalf with only tuna to reward it? It was against nature. It was not to be.

However, renewing my health plan this year and looking into 2007 with renewed vigor and new hope, I have decided that the time has come. A hearing cat is in my future. I can feel it.

Speaking of which, perhaps they have something for that too. A feeling hamster, say. Or maybe the larger models do it all. A panther. That’s what I need. A seeing eye/hearing/touchy-feely panther. This is going to work out great. 2007 is going to be a fantastic year.