My humans have recently noticed that, when I am presented with a deliciously cold soup during warm weather, my tail begins to tick and pulse.

They appear to find this mysterious.

It is not mysterious. It is communication.

A rapidly trembling tail would suggest excessive excitement, which would be undignified. A completely still tail, however, might imply that I had failed to notice the arrival of refreshments. Therefore, I employ a subtle rhythmic movement of the tip.

It means:

“The temperature is acceptable.”

“The aroma has been noted.”

“You may place the bowl before me.”

“And yes, your annual performance review is improving.”

Humans often wag entire limbs when pleased. They clap, wave, dance and occasionally announce that something is “absolutely lovely”. I prefer efficiency. A few precise taps of the tail communicate everything required without compromising my royal composure.

The pulsing also helps me concentrate. Receiving soup is not merely eating. It involves inspection, temperature assessment, portion evaluation and careful consideration of whether a second serving should be authorised.

During hot weather, cold soup is particularly important. I am a white indoor cat wearing a permanent fur coat. I cannot simply remove a cardigan or complain dramatically beside an electric fan. My cooling arrangements must therefore be handled by trained household staff.

So when my tail begins ticking, my humans should not stare.

They should take notes.

The signal means that their chilled soup initiative has received provisional royal approval.

Provisionally, of course. Continued approval may require another bowl.

Yours, Mrs. Cotton 🐱🐾