How successful they are can be seen as an index of their intelligence. After all, there are many kinds.

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The different cat types came about through our own manipulation of cat genetics. Our ancestors encouraged certain traits depending on what kinds of cats they wanted or needed.
Cats with a lot of utilitarian expectations show the prey drive of the Beta. Cats who were expected to look lovely and be affectionate show the delicate diplomacy of the Gamma. While the Alpha’s lively involvement with everything indicates these cats were bred to exaggerate their antics and curiosity.
All traits every cat has. The different breeds, and the traits that wind up in our mixed breeds, describe a complete arc of cat capabilities.
Gammas often get underrated. Do we love our Gamma? Do they not bother anything? Do they magically appear when we most need them, and do they melt like butter under our hands? Does the mere sight of them bring a smile to our face?
Then we have a most brilliant Gamma! Because this is what Gammas are designed to do. Admittedly, under this criteria, Puffy was a genius, even though he would lick the last of the ice cream off the round lid by chasing it all over the floor instead of putting a paw on it to keep it in place.
It cannot be denied that we will regard our more paws-on cats as more intelligent. When someone breaks into the treat cabinet, runs for the kitchen when only the thought has occurred to us, or sets up a Rube Goldberg chain of cause and effect, we are openly admiring and tell our friends how smart our cat is. And they are.
One of my favorite Mr. Bond stories is the night I stayed up till all hours studying for my physiology final. I probably turned off the alarm in my sleep, and could not be awakened. So Mr. Bond fished a plastic grocery bag from our bag keeper, brought it into the living room where Mr WereBear was sleeping on the couch (so I could study) and woke up Mr WereBear by crackling the bag right under his nose.
Mr WereBear woke up, followed Mr. Bond into the bedroom to discover me oblivious, and I managed to make the final; in my pajamas with a coat thrown over them.
So Mr. Bond, by any criteria, is a very smart cat.
We are used to thinking of this depth of understanding as “intelligence.” Some cats grasp conceptual thinking, and can display an amazing ability to realize both physical (humans always notice a crackling bag) and mental (someone meant to get up early this morning) implications of the world around them.
While all cat types are equally capable of this kind of intelligence, not all cat types are temperamentally suited to display this knowledge to their humans.
We strive to teach our cats “the rules” of the household; no knocking things over unless we give them those things, keeping down the rowdy play at inconvenient times, knowing when it’s mealtime, and trusting us to say when it is not.
Some cats, like Mr. Bond, recognize when the rules have to be broken. Mr WereBear woke up with a “You know better than to do that” attitude about the bag crackling. Yet even as his scolding reached his lips, he recognized Mr. Bond’s pleading face meant that Mr. Bond knew this was against the rules, and that Mr. Bond, following up with a Lassie Floor Twirl, had done it on purpose. He trusted Mr. Bond’s intelligence; and acted as Mr. Bond either knew, or, even more altruistically, hoped, he would.
So when discussing our cat’s intelligence, we should remember that our cats are often only as smart as we let them be. When we work on our mutual communication, we not only have a way of conveying our wishes back and forth. We are building a bridge of understanding that will let the cat be able to show, more clearly and more often, just how smart they really are.
In a household less attuned to Mr. Bond’s efforts, it would have been “the morning I missed my final and on top of that we had to yell at the cat for being annoying.”
It is certainly within our power to maximize our cat’s intelligence, of whatever form or final peak it might take.
Part of that power is recognizing, and encouraging, its appearance in our cats. So come up with new routines and toys that puzzle them, give them challenges, and try to figure out how to occupy them when we are away from home. It can be as simple as putting a treat in a toy and letting them wrestle it out. Or as elaborate as getting a remote controlled toy; and letting them have the remote.
Cats in nature use their intelligence to outwit prey and plan strategies. The more we let them express this drive, the happier they will be.
My Konfuse-A-Kat kit is three dice games designed to promote interaction, spark conceptual thinking, and deepen the bond between us and our cat.
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Ah, makes sense! I remember you hinted at this upcoming post. At the time I was worried that our young Fiona wouldn’t get along with our older female Khaki, though both are Beta girls. I think now it is just that she is too young and playful for Khaki, they seem to be getting along better – especially when I am not nearby for them to be jealous over my attention.
Khaki isn’t really dumb… I would say she has an attention deficit and takes a long time to catch on to things, but eventually she usually does. I guess it shouldn’t surprised me that she’s very slowly figuring out when Fiona is sleepy enough to curl up with, without risk of being smacked by hyper waving paws!
Well, in Khaki’s defense, it’s hard to tell! Many cats find it hard to let go of perfectly good strategies that have always worked for them before. The new takes a bit of studying before they trust it.
my boy, Monty, is a happy accident really, i was so lucky to find him…he is strangely aware/intelligent…he learns so fast..without imitation (he figures it out by himself) , eg he opens windows, you know the levers, he lifts them!, the fire place, he hits the piezo to start the fire in the morning….and he will even snuggle up next to me if I’m sick…he loves me and I love him…
Monty sounds like so much fun.
What a great article! My Mocha is definitely a Beta, although he works his sister cat in addition to us to manipulate his environment. He’s a little prissy (for lack of a better word) – he hates touching things with different textures, which includes litter. He never, ever buries anything in his litterbox. His sister Maisie, an alpha, always goes in after him and buries everything. On multiple occasions, she has apparently deemed his messes to be too much to cope with, so she gets in to our stash of grocery bags, takes one to the litterbox, and covers the mess with the bag. Every time this happens I laugh out loud. I don’t know who I’m more proud of: Maisie for trying to keep things tidy or Mocha for manipulating everyone.