Before we got our current set of cats, we discovered clicker training. Advocates figured you could teach any cat to do any trick with careful application of the clicker. Furthermore, there were people (not necessarily the same ones) who advocated training kittens to be easier to handle as adult cats. For instance, a particular video demonstrated giving a kitten a treat in the way one would normally give a pill, “for improved pilling behavior.”
Then, as fate would have it, a neighbor’s sister had an unexpected litter available, so we went and picked out kittens. One was pretty, and one just screamed at us for attention. We took them home, cared for them, and did our best to train them.
But, we found that the cats have their own plans, even from such a young age. Although the pandemic surely interfered with our plans to create more-social cats, they did not end up any more outgoing than average. They will hide if anyone comes over; since we moved out of a city, they will even go on alert if a car stops at our driveway. Looking back, we can see the same differences in temperament between our four-year-old cats and the six-week-old kittens we first saw in the box.
We had a bit more success with teaching them tricks. On the other hand, it’s easiest to get a cat to “do something” with a finger, so now all their tricks have hand signals, and they don’t seem to be able to grasp the concept of audio cues. We’re also uncreative, and we ran out of tricks we want them to do. It seems like it would be annoying to have them open doors, and just a little bit less annoying to have them close doors, because of course they’d do that while we were still wanting them open.
We never taught them a “Get down” (off the furniture) command. These cats are smart enough to get up on the forbidden furniture, just to get the command and reward from us.
The other major limitation to tricks is that the cats won’t do them while nervous. If we had company and the cats weren’t in hiding, they probably still wouldn’t be comfortable enough to show off their repertoire. If they’re at the vet, they’re not going to get out of the carrier if I signal them “come,” and they definitely wouldn’t eat their reward there.
Perhaps some of the problems are on us. We have a cat who is extremely motivated by food and treats, but it’s hard to teach him a new trick, because he sits there and purrs really hard and just s t a r e s at the hand holding the treats. He usually doesn’t do anything that can be rewarded. That’s how the hand-signal system evolved: we could at least get something to happen that way.
We were also never able to separate the cats to learn individually. If one of them is locked out of the room, both cats’ attention is on the cat on the other side of the door. If one of them is locked in a carrier and receiving attention and treats from the other human, the treat budget—and thus, training opportunity—is reduced. Even fully separating the cats into two different rooms that don’t share a door gives them too much anxiety to perform.
Finally, when the cats are really begging for something we don’t want to give them, they’ll throw the tricks at us. “Meow! Meow! (waves paw)” In theory, we should be reinforcing that trick, but we don’t want to reinforce the begging.
“Meow! Meow!” “Can I just do the dishes in peace?”
They’re smart, but sometimes they don’t show it.
Overall, this post is a bunch of gripes, but only about the difference between theory and practice. (There is no difference… in theory.)
It actually has been a fun and interesting journey. I think it’s neat, having cats that know some tricks! It has deepened our connection with them, too. Their personalities come through, both in the tricks they’re willing to learn, and in their personal execution of them. Finally, as far as we can tell, the cats like doing the tricks. We established a routine of “tricks after dinner,” and they meow at us (and generally get underfoot) if we forget or delay.
But who knows; maybe they just want the treats. 🐈⬛🐈