The piano that taught my cat to play for her supper

The pianist sits before her instrument. She carefully extends a front paw, pressing gingerly on a key. She presses again, and again. She is composing some soul music, because something terrible has happened to her: The vacuum cleaner has come out of the closet.

Yes, my cat is a tortured artist. When Jeeves is moved by something that upsets her — say, I have gotten up when she was comfortable sitting in my lap — she goes to her piano and plays a brief melody. And then the piano dispenses treats. At night, she prefers to sleep on me. If I wake up to pee, disturbing her, my bathroom visit is accompanied by a moonlight serenade.

She hasn’t mastered chords, though I don’t think the Pet Pianosupports them. Really, her cat-sized instrument/smart feeder only has slightly more than an octave for her to work with. And she is prone...

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