Summertime finds Phileas J. Fogg, our veteran indoor cat, unusually  lethargic. The heat lies heavy on a creature already wearing a fur coat. Phil looks as if he needs a cold shower but the closest remedy he finds comes from stretching flat out on the floor in hopes of finding subtle air currents close to the ground.

If only we could train this longtime familiar to seek other relief, perhaps in the form of the daily swim that is my own response to heat. However, idealist that I am, even I have given up hope of training Phil to do much of anything. Having failed to teach him to speak French, among other things, I now have accepted my severe limitations as a cat trainer.

For this pessimistic surrender, I have excellent authority to back me up. The New York Times for July 20th carried a fascinating obituary of Gunther Gebel-Williams, the most celebrated animal trainer in the world, who died after a long career with the Ringling Brothers circus.

The obit writer, after reviewing Gebel-Williams’s exploits with lions, tigers, leopards and other wild animals, mentioned a limitation that even this master of the ring labored under:

“After more than five decades in training and performing with all sorts of animals, Mr. Gebel-Williams concluded that there was just one animal that might be close to impossible to train: the house cat.

‘They do as they please,’ he said.”

How true this statement is, the millions of Americans who live with domestic cats have abundant reasons to know. It is indeed sobering to think that the famous trainer could cope with the challenges of the great beasts but was defeated by the likes of Phileas J. Fogg.

Yes, Phil does as he pleases. He stubbornly refuses to take direction from his housemates even when we assure him of our good will. Like an immature human being, he would rather do it his way than to be right.

But this is not to say that Phil’s habits are entirely fixed. Of late, I have noticed him doing something that he would never have done in his youth. He now will rub up against the legs of family members as if in token of affection. It’s still hard to think of him feeling any affection for us; we are always prepared for him to bite or scratch us instead.

However, there can be no other explanation of this new rubbing against, except at those times when Phil’s food bowl registers empty. Otherwise, this physical contact must be a sign that he cares something about us. Perhaps the approach of old age has taught him that we humans are more than mere providers. Phil is recognizing that we too need love and affection and he has determined to give them to us.

For fear this seem an unjustified leap of faith, what other interpretation can one reasonably attach to the leg rubbing?

Does it give Phil body heat? But in summertime, he surely does not want to be any hotter than he is. Does it reassure Phil that he exists? But he has always shown a strength of character that precludes existential doubts. Granted, we sometimes think that Phil would profit from a few visits to a cat shrink, but not because he harbors doubts about who he is.

Phil has occasionally allowed himself to back off from a stand based on principle. That has happened when he has agreed to eat food that has been in his bowl for a while rather than continue to demand that we put out stuff fresh from the canister.

Backing down like this, however, may indicate that, with age, Phil has found a new flexibility. When younger, he might have refused compromise but now he has attained a willingness to reach an accommodation with us. Seeing him yield encourages me to think that his last years will make him even more companionable.

Another instance of Phil’s new flexibility comes to light when we allow him to make a cameo appearance before guests. When friends visit, our practice has been to bring him up from his cellar lair and carry him in to greet the visitors.

On these occasions he is almost always on his best behavior, especially when children are in the house. Despite his relative seniority, Phil recognizes a certain kinship with the kids and he determines not to take advantage of their vulnerability. So he allows them to stroke him with impunity. They need not fear that he will spring to the attack as he might with older humans.

So the record is mixed. Gunther Gebel-Williams was certainly right about the untrainability of household cats. But, had he known our Phil, he would have recognized in this beast a creature with more flexibility than his sweeping statement would seem to allow.

Richard Griffin