Missy Kitty and the merits of the Ninth Commandment

There are so many good things to say about the cat that rules our lives.

Her name, as most of you well know, is Missy Kitty. She is accommodated beyond all reason. Spoiled, you say? Rotten. No question about it.

Missy Kitty is cute, loving, a great mouser, defender of our yard, playful, funny and affectionate. I'm pretty sure she knows all this but, to her credit, handles all of these attributes with aplomb. If you have a cat of your own, surely you recognize all of these characteristics, and more.

But Missy Kitty is also a first-rate con artist. She is a schemer and conniver. She is capable of calculated deception to achieve her goals.

And she is a liar.

There. I've said it. Missy Kitty tells black lies. A lot.

If I were trying to put a varnish of respectability on all this, I might say Missy Kitty sometimes misstates the truth. Or garbles some of her facts. Or inadvertently misspeaks on occasion.

I might, under more than generous circumstances, tell you that Missy Kitty sometimes communicates in ways that are clearly misguided and in ways that are subject to misinterpretation by those who are less attuned to the vagaries of the feline sort.

But, the plain truth is she's a liar.

Let me tell you how my wife and I have arrived at this harsh conclusion.

Missy Kitty is an indoor-outdoor cat. She has a well-appointed living quarters in the garage, which never gets too cold because the wall between the garage and the rest of the house isn't insulated, and a great deal of heat intended to keep the house cozy seeps into the place where automobiles hang out.

There is a food dish, usually full, and a water dish in the garage for Missy Kitty. There is a heated cat bed for her. She likes being outdoors, and the garage setup seems to suit her just fine.

Indoors, Miss Kitty has her own wicker chair in the family room with the soft cushion seat that makes a perfect cat bed. She also has a food/milk dish in the kitchen, a well-stocked refrigerator which we also are allowed to use and a drawer full of special cat treats -- who knew you could buy pouches of freeze-dried organic chicken for your cat?

Over the years, Missy Kitty has latched on to the idea that each time she comes into the house she is entitled to a splash of milk in her indoor food dish. So she goes straight to the dish and sits there expectantly. Any human who catches her eye is greeted with the cat's googly eyes. If you don't have a cat, you don't have a clue what that is.

Googly eyes are to a cat what facial expressions are to an actor whose facial expressions tell an entire story. A cat's googly eyes can melt the coldest human heart. And cats with extraordinary googly-eyed talent get just about anything they want.

Including seconds -- even thirds and fourths -- of milk.

This is the way it works. I let Missy Kitty in the first thing in the morning. She goes to her dish in the kitchen. I put milk in the dish. Missy Kitty drinks the milk and goes to the wicker chair in the family room for a good bath and a nap.

As soon as Missy Kitty hears my wife get up, she hurries to her food dish in the kitchen and waits. My wife knows the cat already has had milk. The cat senses that it will be tougher to get a second splash of milk. So she turns on her googly-eyes.

It's quite a show, even if you have to guess at what's being communicated.

"You've had milk," my wife says. The cat googles her eyes. The message? Oh, no, I haven't had a drop since yesterday, and a really nice human would be doing me a great honor to fill my dish with delicious milk.

"You're not telling the truth, Missy Kitty. I know you've just had milk. One might say you are lying." The cat's response? What? Me lie? I am a cat. I don't even comprehend the concept of lying. Surely you have no intention of being so harsh so early in the day.

More googly eyes.

I am here to report than in most cases Missy Kitty gets more milk. Not because my wife believes the prevaricating cat. It's because it's tough to ignore the googly-eyed expert.

There is no cure for cat lying. I've looked it up. All cats do it. Some are better than others. Many would argue that "Thou shalt not bear false witness" has little to do with animals capable of getting humans to do things they wouldn't do if a cat were not involved.

Lying, it turns out, has served cats well down through the ages. Which is why cats -- the ones with the best googly eyes -- get just about everything they want.

How many humans can say the same?

Joe Sullivan is the retired editor of the Southeast Missourian.