I was in perhaps in class 4 or 5. I was visiting my eldest uncle's place, which had originally been my grandpa's house. The have always had a lot of stray cats in the house. In fact just like me, the house was an 'ancestral' home for the cats too! So many kitty generation of the same ancestry have been born, had played around, run away, come back again, had babies, died, and all in all added much liveliness and anecdotes to the story of that house. Whenever we cousins visited the place, the cats were the first choice as well as the final fail-safe backup means of entertainment for all of us.
On this particular summer noon, the cat was lazing around, sprawled on the mat. Its eyes were contently half closed. Its was slowly moving its tail from this side to that. Then again slowly from that side to this. Again now and then a quick brush to the other side. And I need not mention the queenly satisfied purring need I?
Me and my elder cousin (son of an aunt, not the host uncle) were busy orgainising our paper-made Boeings and Airbuses and fighter bombers under the chair 'hangars' nearby. (My elder cousing was was a genius at inventing highly involved and exciting games and plots, with whatever resources you could give him)
All this while another little cousin of mine, around 5-6 years (son of still another aunt, not the host uncle), was closely observing the cat. My eldest uncle (the host) was relaxing on a chair reading a newspaper. After a while, the little one turned to him.
The little one asked, "Kaka, why is the cat moving its tail about?"
My uncle who treated cats like persons, responded in a voice as if telling some profound truth, "Because it is thinking..."
"Uhumm!" said the little one like everything about the world was suddenly crystal clear to him.
And then all of a sudden he vigorously started pulling, bending and shaking the cats tail.
An alarmed voice: "What are you doing?!!"
A matter-of-fact serene voice: "I am making the cat think!"
Thankfully the feline matriarch had over the years become very used to us immature brats. It merely opened its eyes, looked around at the bothersome punk lugging at her tail and went back into her contemplative reverie, thinking
(Hey wait, if thats true then it means my lil' cousin did indeed succeed in making the cat think!)