Part-Time Apex Predator: Cyril’s Remarkable, But Selective, Hearing

We’ve all known someone with selective hearing; husbands who don’t hear you asking to take the garbage out but can miraculously hear when you tell them dinner is ready, or dogs who have slept like the dead through thunderstorms, noisy trucks, armageddon, then leap to attention when they hear the sound of a chip packet being opened. In my house, the family member who wears the selective hearing sash is Cyril.

In addition to being able to subconsciously filter out sounds that are unlikely to lead to a full belly, Cyril is also a champion sleeper. Of course, if you spent 16-20 hours of your day either sleeping, resting, or sussing out the best location and position to get the most out of your snooze, you’d probably be a champion sleeper, too.

What never ceases to amaze me is the speed with which this largely sedentary feline can transport himself from a deep sleep upstairs to the kitchen countertop downstairs at the subliminal beckoning of a Temptations packet. If I didn’t know better, I would think he’d mastered teleportation. Even more remarkable is his ability to somehow differentiate this from the sound of similar packs that don’t contain his favorite cat snacks. I don’t think the smell could have anything to do with it, unless the manufacturers of these treats are using some sort of microscopic accelerated delivery device that delivers tiny particles through the ceiling and straight to your cat’s olfactory system in less than 0.003 seconds.

So how does he differentiate between the Temptation packet and the resealable plastic bag of grated cheese? Don’t get me wrong, Cyril won’t say no to a cheeky sliver of mozzarella, but it doesn’t have quite the same level of allure as those tiny treats. I have, on numerous occasions, very carefully retrieved said packet, making sure not to cause any rustling or shaking that might send up any flares to the sleeping cat upstairs, and yet, the moment I pull open that seal, he’s there.

Despite his impressive – but slowly shrinking – size, Cyril moves with the silence and stealth of a ninja, soundlessly landing on kitchen countertops, always the first in line for a snack. He is an apex predator; the soft-centered crunchy treat is his prey. Perhaps, just as his wild and free-roaming feline relatives have learned which sounds mean danger or food and which ones can be ignored, Cyril is showing how he has honed his instinctive skills to match his environment. I don’t know how he would fare in the wild, but one thing’s for sure, no packet of treats is safe when this food-loving feline is on the prowl.