Few people would mistake a wolf for a dog. But if you saw the ancestor of the domestic cat in your backyard, your first thought would likely be “What a cool-looking housecat!” rather than “What’s an African wildcat doing in Manchester?” That’s how little they’ve changed, earning them the tag “barely” or “semi-domesticated”. There have been some minor anatomical shifts – domestic cats have longer intestines and smaller brains, for example – but very few genetic ones (and certainly many fewer than separate dogs from their wild ancestors). What about behaviour, then? Which of the traits we commonly associate with our furry friends are the result of domestication, and which do they share with their wild relatives?
Let’s start with the classic cat sound. Anyone who has lived with a cat has experienced their household companion meowing to them, clearly trying to communicate something or other (perhaps “dinner time” or “Help, I’m locked in the closet”). I had always assumed that cats talked to each other by meowing, and that they were just including us in their social circle. However, detailed behavioural observations of unowned groups of cats living in southern England have revealed that they rarely meow among themselves.
Does this finding indicate that cats evolved the ability to meow over the last few thousand years as part of the domestication process? Nope. All small species of wild feline – of which there are many – meow. Instead, the domestic cat has modified this sound, making it shorter, higher-pitched and more pleasing to our ears. Researchers have suggested that humans have an innate preference for high-pitched sounds and that cats adapted accordingly.
And it’s not just the meow. Scientists at the University of Sussex have shown that when cats want something (usually food), they deploy an insistent, chainsaw-like purr that bears some phonetic resemblance to a human baby’s cry. Other small feline species also purr, so this is most likely another example of an existing trait cleverly adapted to manipulate us into getting what they want.
However, there is one behaviour that domestic cats exhibit that is nearly unique among felines and thus must be a trait involved during domestication; nonetheless, it is directed to other cats as much as it is to humans. When my cat, Nelson, gets out of our garden, I have to go and find him. As I call to him in my best “Nelson, buddy” voice, he eventually starts walking, or sometimes running, towards me. As he gets closer, his tail springs straight up into the air, a rear-end exclamation point; when he gets to me, he rubs his cheeks and flank against my leg, purring the whole time. Sometimes he behaves similarly inside when he’s in a loving mood, approaching with tail held high, then licking my hand or foot in exchange for caresses, sometimes even rolling on his back for belly rubs.
Domestic cats use this same flagpole signal when they interact with each other: the upright tail means “I come in peace” or maybe “Glad to see you!” It’s an indication they want to engage in other friendly behaviours such as head- and body-rubbing, nose-touching and sniffing; other cats return the vertical salute to show they’re receptive to such an interaction. The fact that cats use their tails to signal amiable intentions to us as well is a great tribute, indicating we’ve attained honorary cat status.
Only one other feline species uses its tail in a similar way. Surprisingly, it’s not a similar-sized relative, but, rather, the king of the jungle. When greeting each other, members of a lion pride will raise their tails – though more in a curved semicircle than straight up.
How did two such different felines end up acting in the same way? Well, consider that lions are deservedly known as the only truly social wild feline species, living in prides of as many as 20 cats. The core of the pride is made up of females, all of whom are related. Pride members are famous for their sociability: grooming, playing, lying on top of one another, even nursing each other’s cubs and hunting cooperatively.
Domestic cats are thought to be like other felines: solitary, aloof and asocial. But that is not always the case. When unowned cats occur in large, dense populations – as happens when people provide a lot of food – they do live in groups, composed mainly of related females. Like lions, the cats are extremely sociable, even serving as midwives during birth, and again like lions, they are unfriendly to members of other groups. Why a group of cats is called a clowder and not a pride is beyond me.
This similar social structure is what explains the independent evolution of tail-signalling in cats and lions. When interactions are common, a way of indicating friendly intentions is needed, and what better piece of anatomy to use than a tail – visible at a distance and not used for other purposes?
Why, then, do we consider domestic cats to be loners? Remember that the key aspect of lion and domestic cat groups is that they are made up of female relatives. But when multiple cats are brought together in the same house, they often arrive at different times, from different families. Not surprisingly, they frequently don’t get along. Although it’s not impossible for two unrelated cats to develop a friendly relationship, a better approach is to bring littermates into a home together.
The domestic cat may not have evolved much from the African wildcat, but the changes that have occurred have produced household companions that are both friendlier and better able to manipulate us. Some breeds have been selected to be even more attentive chums, essentially dogs in cat’s clothing. For example, without any training at all, Nelson announces playtime by bringing his toys and dropping them at my feet, fetching them when they’re thrown across the room. And as for the disturbing claim that your cat would eat you if you died at home and your body weren’t discovered: don’t believe it. Research shows that dogs are the culprit much more frequently. Despite the still‑wild nature of cats, I know which species I prefer to live with.
Jonathan B Losos is professor of biology at Washington University in St Louis and author of The Age of Cats: From the Savannah to Your Sofa (William Collins), published in the United States as The Cat’s Meow (Viking).
Further reading:
What Cats Want: An Illustrated Guide for Truly Understanding Your Cat by Dr Yuki Hattori (Bloomsbury, £12.99)
The Secret Language of Cats: How to Understand Your Cat for a Better, Happier Relationship by Susanne Schötz (HQ Digital, £8.99)
Cat Sense: The Feline Enigma Revealed by John Bradshaw (Penguin, £10.99)
