Pets and People

Reprinted from Cats & Kittens magazine, January 2003

CATS MAKE THE BEST NURSES

by Peggy van Hulsteyn

Jann Arrington Wolcott, a Washington, D.C. actress and award-winning author, is convinced that  her Himalayan cat, Cutest, helped cure her of pneumonia last summer. "When I was bedridden, Cutest never left my side. I had a high fever and I think she was trying to bring it down with her special tongue kisses. When she gently touched her tongue to my eyelashes and forehead, she seemed to be able to feel my pain." Elaine Pinkerton, a health and fitness writer from Santa Fe, was feeling very sorry for herself after foot surgery. "Not only could I not indulge in my usual daily activities of running, biking, or skiing, I found it took all my energy just answering the front door."

Pinkerton, an accomplished athlete, found languishing on her couch depressing. That is, until Norman and Oliver, her two normally frisky tabbies, cuddled up beside her. "My cats are usually as active as I am, but when I couldn't walk and was in pain, they were so restorative. They snuggled up against me and their warm nuzzling put me in a delightful mood. It reminded me of nursing my two sons when they were babies." Wendy Christensen, an illustrator and nature writer, has a staff of feline nurses in her New Hampshire abode. She suffers from Ankylosing Spondylitis, a type of arthritis that attacks the spine and joints. After her latest hip surgery she was exhausted, hurting and extremely cranky following a seemingly endless trip from the hospital through steamy, Boston rush-hour traffic. Then she had to face "Mt. Everest, the dreaded stairs."

"Once I dragged myself upstairs, I was really grumpy and in pain. My husband settled me into bed and let in my gaggle of kitties. They bounced onto the bed, rubbed my face, purred like crazy, licked my chin, tumbled, wrestled, leapt and pounced on each other. "Within five minutes, I felt like a new person," said Christensen, with a big grin on her face. "I was smiling and laughing, my soreness and crankiness all but forgotten in that blissful rush of feline exuberance and love."

Is there any truth to the curative powers of our beloved cat nurses? Or are we cat owners so besotted by our animal companions that we think everything our felines do enhances our well-being? The fact is that growing scientific evidence indicates that cats can have a very positive effect on our overall health.

Wolcott, Pinkerton and Christensen weren't just fantasizing that their cats made them feel better. Michelle Cobey, Resource Support Coordinator of the Delta Society, the nation's largest organization promoting the benefits to human health of service and therapy animals, explains that "the simple act of petting your cats reduces stress, helping you recover."

For more proof that felines are as good for you as chicken soup, Cobey referred me to the Delta Society's website featuring an article by Erika Friedmann on "The Role of Pets in Enhancing Human Well-Being: Physiological Effects". Friedmann confirmed that our three convalescents would indeed feel better when surrounded by their cats because "pets can decrease anxiety and sympathetic nervous system arousal by providing a pleasant external focus for attention, promoting feelings of safety and providing a source of contact comfort."

The three patients all noted that their kitties helped them forget their considerable aches and discomforts. I can relate to this, having had my own feline Florence Nightingale. After a serious roll-over in an SUV, I was in severe pain because of a crushed vertebra. It always seemed that when I petted Vanity, my calico cat counselor, the pain lessened.

Were our medications making us delusional? Not according to Wolcott who feels certain that "cats have healing ability." Dr. Marty Becker, veterinary contributor to Good Morning America, whose latest book, The Healing Power of Pets, discusses the amazing ability of pets to keep people healthy, agrees with Wolcott.

"Cats are good for us," Dr. Becker notes. "When you stroke your cat, it is a counter-irritant that blocks transmissions of pain. Petting your cat creates a state of anti-anxiety. It's like taking Valium."

Becker, whose weekly newspaper column, "The Bond" gives advice to 15 million readers, knows first-hand about felines' ability to curb pain. "When I had my spine fused, I got to personally experience my cats' healing power. When I petted Tommy, Colby, and Krisi, I went into a state of anti-anxiety which helped my pain pills work better."

What about Pinkerton's claim that nuzzling her cats made her revert back to the idyllic time when she was breast feeding her infant sons? It was not merely a figment of her active writer's imagination, according to Becker. "When your cat snuggles up against you, it does indeed create the same feelings you get when you're nursing a baby."

Cats seem to have a sixth sense about what we humans need. When I was recuperating from my accident, Vanity always knew when she should comfort me with a cuddle and a purr and when I needed to be left alone.

Christensen reported a similar phenomena with her cat, Rux. "She loved to snuggle and sleep with me but was ever mindful that even her slight weight caused me pain because of my spinal arthritis. So she devised a ritual. Every night, she'd wait until I was settled into bed. About ten minutes after lights-out, I'd feel a gentle plop on the foot of the bed. Slowly and carefully, Rux would pad along my side-mindfully avoiding my painful joints-up to my pillow. There, she'd settle in, turn around exactly three times, knead my hair to make a comfy nest and crank up her purr --better than any lullaby."

Didn't you always suspect your cats were smarter and more intuitive than you? According to Becker, it's true. "Your cats know everything about you. They spend much of their day studying you. They know encyclopedic amounts about their humans. They can totally read your body language and tones of your voice."

So, when we're injured or ill, they know immediately, he explains. "They are totally in tune with us. They can tell that we're walking differently and even when we have a different look on our faces."

"Cats even have a special language for us," Becker continues. "The noises that cats make, mewing and trilling, is reserved for humans. It is a specific form of communication from cats to humans. With each other, they use body contact and body language."

Another sound that has special curative power is a cat's purr. Wolcott noted of her cat, Cutest that "When she purred while I was sick, it was a vocal form of love. Purring is their way of connecting. When cats purr, it's a very healing thing and their love comes through."

Christensen also found that "when you're recovering, there's something about the closeness of a purring cat that makes you feel warm, loved and cared for. My chief nurse, Soo, camped out on my pillow and I awoke to the music of her thunderous Purrr!" There is currently a new hypothesis that suggests that the purring of cats is a natural healing mechanism. Dr. Elizabeth von Muggenthaler, the president of the Fauna Communications Research Institute in North Carolina, elaborates, "The healing power of purring seems to explain cats' nine lives. Sound waves created at a particular frequency trigger the healing process in feline bones. Purring is believed to have a similar effect to ultrasound treatment on humans."

There is even research being conducted on a type of "sound treatment" that could possibly be used to halt osteoporosis and perhaps renew bone growth in post-menopausal women.

Finally, there is something about watching a cat that puts an illness or injury in perspective. Cats live in the eternal now -- they don't regret the past or worry about the future. As Christensen put it, "Whether recovering from illness, injury or surgery, the body can knit itself back together only so quickly. Pushing recovery too fast can result in all sorts of unhappy complications and re-injuries. The tiresomeness of recovery can try the patience of even the calmest and most laid-back of souls, and for a hard-charging personality like me, it can be sheer torture. As I recover from this latest surgery, I find myself fretting over the work I should be doing and all the projects that are on hold. Sometimes I'm sorely tempted to 'cheat' on my restrictions in movement or stretch the hours I'm allowed to sit up."

"Then," said Christensen, "I observe my cats and they keep me from such folly. Whether padding leisurely across the room or leaping after a tossed treat, a cat focuses on the joys and demands of the present moment. This is a hard lesson for us time-pressed humans to learn, but an essential one --especially during the tedium of recovery."

SIDEBAR
CATS ON THE COUCH: PSYCHOTHERAPY USING CATS

In therapy, analysts are quick to point out that there are no accidents. However, Judy Strull, a psychotherapist in Boston relates that hiring her cat, Peach, as her assistant was in fact "sort of an accident, at least I think it was."

"I was in the middle of a session when Peach clawed his way out of a screen in the window and asked to be let in. The patient I was with, a cat lover, seemed to really like having my cat in the room. She found it relaxing."

"Soon Peach started lying in on sessions with my feline-fancying patients and they got involved with him. Then people started calling in advance and asking, 'Can Peach be there? I have some tough stuff to talk about.'" Peach, an orange tabby, sits on the couch next to the patients and they stroke him. "He is an instant tranquilizer and offers comfort," adds Strull. "Even some patients who are allergic wanted to let him in their sessions."

Sometimes Strull's home office turns into a menagerie. "One client brings her German shepherd and her kitten. Peach loves them. The dog lies at my patient's feet, the kitten sits on top of the dog's back and Peach lies on the window sill."

If you are shopping for a simpatico therapist, you might consider one who is a cat lover. Strull relates that she formerly was in a large practice with ten therapists. "It was very telling when I was hiring therapists. The ones with cats of their own and the ones who let Peach into sessions were more sensitive, less self-involved." "One new therapist who somehow got hired didn't like Peach. I should have known immediately. He didn't work out!"

About the Author - Peggy van Hulsteyn is the author of six books, including two humor books, "Diary of a Santa Fe Cat" and "Vanity in Washington" featuring the impish, sophisticated calico, Vanity the Cat. Van Hulsteyn's books are available at amazon.com.

View an article sponsored by PFI on the benefits of pet owning.