Music and its Benefits and Consequences in regards to the Soul

Music is the universal language. I say this as if it is true simply because it is true. A languid ballad is sad anywhere, bouncy tunes can induce smiles and laughter, and Party Rock is always Party Rock.  Languages are chiefly a means of communication and therefore have no direct benefits or consequences.  A string of words can hold any meaning (for example, the tone I could be using in this blog could either be lecturing you or informing you [note, both the verbs to lecture and to inform have the same technical meaning, but one of them doesn't make you feel as though you should tell your mother to shove it for nagging you about your room] or even YELLING AT YOU!!!!).  Music is no exception to this rule.

The common saying is "Music is good for the soul".  So obviously music is good for the soul, yes? NO.

Music, like any other language, can influence your thoughts and feelings.  I listen to "Landlocked Blues" by Blue Eyes when I'm feeling lethargic and I need to chill, but this is in no way what I would play over the intercom if I wanted to start a riot ("Uprising" by Muse in case you were wondering).  Artists and bands manipulate the musical scale and the characters of the alphabet to turn the amorphous blob of sound into a song that clearly (or sometimes not so clearly) gets their meaning across.

Now whether you believe that your thoughts or feelings are in any way related to your soul or whether you even have one is up to you, but I am about to propose to you a position that will knock your socks off.  I propose....music extends beyond the realm of Homo sapien souls and transverses the subclasses of taxonomic heirachies right down into the family Felidae.  Yes. Felidae. Aka feline. Aka cat.

While it has long been made public, through myths and campfire stories and novels about people out in the wilderness, that dogs and wolves experience music in a way that is usually either 'ethereal' or 'haunting' and often 'harmonious'.  What I propose is that cats are similarly drawn to music.

Picture of their brain:

In this figure, we can clearly see that the part of their brain that interprets music is smothered between the part that interprets hunger and their crazy habits that have long eluded human understanding.  This suggests that cats often go crazy when they hear music and they start to sing along.  This effect is amplified when in combination with dire starvation which occurs all the time because cats NEVER STOP EATING!

I present my evidence in the form of personal experience.  I have returned from college during the much appreciated winter break to enjoy time spent with my friends and family, and my 15 year old cat is as much included in our family gatherings as any member of our family only perhaps with more reluctance.  I suffer from an incurable disease known as Stage Fright.  With treatments of show choir for 3 years and a mandatory public speaking course offered by my high school, I have managed to come to terms with my Stage Fright to the extent of hiding it very well.  However, I am still prevented from singing at the top of my lungs during a casual hang-out session with my friends and acquaintances.  So I sing at home. Alone. To my cat. I am going to grow up to be one of those ladies with too many cats and names and stories for all of them.  This is a fate I have accepted long ago.

I have recently noticed a peculiar biological reaction to my attempts of "What the Water Gave Me" by Florence and the Machine and "Reflection" from Mulan.  Her pupils dilate and she meows frequently.  She then circles me and rubs up against everything in her path, eventually, attempting to claw her way up my leg (a feat for a cat with arthritis in her hips) and put her paws on my chest and her whiskers on my nose.  Keeping in mind that my cat is no scaredy-cat but also is, in no uncertain terms, not a people person (or even a people-feline for that matter), this is highly unusual and causes me to break off singing into mirthful laughter as I try not to dislodge my precariously perched fuzz bucket (yeah? go on. hate. I dare you.).

This reaction has given me pause (no pun intended. If you didn't get it, read that last sentence aloud.) and I have performed multiple experiments.  I have played songs on my computer with no reaction. I start singing half way through the song and she starts to sing with me, if I may anthropomorphize my cat.  I stop singing. She carries on for a bit before stopping.  I start to sing again. She starts to sing again.  It is a cycle that seems to begin and end with my voice.

As far as scientific experiments go, this is perhaps one of the most useless hypothesis to prove in the history of science.  That said, I would be interested in hearing any other cat owners (or as we commonly think of our selves, cat servants) if their cat meows and sings.  The Google has turned up with the opinion that cats who meow along with their companions like music and, within my own experiences, I tend to agree.