Cats have a reputation problem. Dogs greet you like a returning hero. Cats glance up from the radiator, register your existence and go back to sleep. Ask a room of dog lovers about cats and you'll hear the same verdict: they only love you for the food.
I have never found that convincing. Watch a cat for long enough and a different picture appears. It follows you from room to room, then settles a careful metre away. It chooses the chair next to yours rather than your lap. It sits on the exact page you're reading. It greets you at the door, though with the air of a host who wasn't expecting guests.
Researchers who have watched cats with their owners in unfamiliar rooms found that many use their human as a secure base. When unsure, they look to their person, steady themselves, and then go back to investigating. It is a very particular kind of bond. Close enough to lean on. Free enough to wander.
Cats have a whole vocabulary for that bond, much of it easy to miss. The tail that rises straight up as you walk in is a greeting. The firm head bump against your hand or chin leaves a trace of scent from glands on the cheeks, marking you, quite literally, as part of the household. The rhythmic kneading on a blanket or your lap is a habit carried over from kittenhood, and many adult cats save it for moments of complete contentment.
Even the meow is mostly for us. Adult cats rarely meow at one another. Kittens use it with their mothers, and grown cats seem to have kept it as a way of talking to people. Every owner learns their own cat's dialect: the polite enquiry near the food bowl, the outraged complaint at a closed door, the long, operatic commentary at the window when a pigeon lands just out of reach.
And then there are the gifts. A mouse on the doormat, a leaf, a hair tie carried proudly from another room. Whatever the reason, it is hard not to feel honoured, at least until you step on one barefoot.
Then there is the slow blink. A cat looks at you, narrows its eyes and closes them for a moment, like a sleepy smile. Behaviour researchers have found that cats tend to return that blink, and are more likely to approach a person who offers it first. I love that the most intimate gesture a cat makes is, in effect, lowering its guard. For an animal built to watch for danger, closing its eyes in your presence is a statement of trust.
So if the cat on the radiator barely lifts its head when you walk in, there's no need to take it personally. Give it ten minutes. It will be sitting on whatever you happen to be reading.
Sources: Oregon State University, cats and attachment · University of Sussex, the slow blink · Cat communication · Meow