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A Purr Is a Miracle in More Ways Than One
by Gina Spadafori
Out of all the animals we have taken into human society, and changed over the generations to
better suit our own ends, why is the cat the only one we have accepted on his own terms?
One could argue that the cat was already a useful animal when his kind chose to associate with
ours, and as such, we saw no need to tailor him further. He was not only useful but also graceful
and beautiful, easy to welcome into the warmth of our homes. But of all the attributes that led
our kind to take so strongly to theirs, and to believe them perfect, as they are, perhaps one
touched our hearts the most. I think we fell in love with the purr.
The Mystery Of The Purr
What a wonder even the smallest cat's purr is! Big cats roar, but they cannot purr, at least not
as our cats do, rumbling their pleasure warmly on both the inhale and the exhale.
Perhaps more interesting than the uniqueness of the purr is its mystery: After thousands of years
with cats in our inner circle, we are still not sure exactly how they purr. A vibration, sure, but
how? The rattling of skin folds, say some, while others argue that the sound is the movement of
air through swollen blood vessels. I'd be happier if the matter were never solved. The mystery
only adds to the purr's appeal. When I think of purring, though, I don't think of history or of
science. Instead, I remember a day when a little cat saved his own life with the power of his purr.
Working Wonders
My friend and I had gone to the shelter to search for an elderly neighbor's lost calico and found
ourselves sadly pondering a cage bank full of homeless cats. Few, we knew, would be alive in a
couple days' time. We tried to push the thought out of our heads as we looked in each cage for the
missing cat.
And then we heard the purr. It came from a leggy young tabby with a battered look about him. He
had snuggled onto the floor of his steel cage as if on a satin pillow, his legs turned beneath him,
his eyes half-lidded with contentment. His purr was as rough as the low gear on an untuned Harley.
He opened his eyes and revved up his motor as we approached, and in seconds we were both smitten
with the half-grown kitten. Once out of the cage he was as charming as his purr suggested, bumping
my friend's chin with his head and settling into her arms as if he belonged there. Which, of course,
he did.
The neighbor's missing calico wandered home the very next day, thinner than when she left but
otherwise unharmed. And the ratty little tabby with the big purr has grown into the handsome and
loving companion he was meant to be-but that he likely would never have been were it not for his purr.
The purr is the essence of all that is wonderful about cats. And although I am no scientist, I have
my own theory of where such a beautiful sound originates. I have no doubt that it comes straight from
the heart.
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