Cats have always inspired jealousy. The amount of time they spend sleeping and the ease which they doze off is often envied by their human owners. A sleeping cat can fill a room with an air of contentment. Yet of what do cats dream? A twitching paw and a strange, low growl emit from the slumbering bundle. Perhaps a dreamof constant cream and fine fish, or is poor puss pursued relentlessly by next door's dog?
A poet's cat, sedate and grave,
as poet would wish to have,
was much addicted to enquire,
for nooks to which she might retire,
and where, secure as mouse in chink,
she might repose, or sit and think.
I know not where she caught her trick,
nature perhaps herself had cast her,
in such a mold philosophique,
or else she learn'd it of her master.
Sometimes ascending, debonair,
an apple tree or lofty pear,
lodg'd with convenience in the fork,
she watched the gard'ner at his work;
sometimes her ease and solace sought,
in an old empty wat'ring pot,
there wanting nothing, save a fan,
to seem some nymph in her sedan,
apparell'd in exactest sort,
and ready to be borne in court.
William Cowper (1731 - 1800)