A kitten is so flexible that she is almost double;
the hind parts are equivalent to another kitten with
which the fore part plays. She does not discover
that her tail belongs to her till you tread upon it.
How elegant she can be with her tail! Its sudden
swellings and vibrations! She jumps into a chair
and then stands on her hind legs to look out the
window; looks steadily at objects far and near,
first turning her gaze to this side then to that,
for she loves to look out a window as much as
any gossip.
Ever and anon she bends back her ears to hear what
is going on within the room, and all the while her
eloquent tail is reporting the progress and success
of her survey by speaking gestures which betray her
interest in what she sees.
Then what a delicate hint she can give with her
tail! Passing perhaps underneath, as you sit at
[the] table, and letting the tip of her tail just
touch your legs, as much as to say, "I am here and
ready for that milk or meat," though she may not be
so forward as to look round at you when she emerges.
Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862)
