Ideal Cat Math

The mathematically ideal number of cats is four. The next ideal is ten, but that is far too many felines for my space to sustain. In both cases, calculating percentages of the population is easy.

For example, I can, with great certainty, narrow it down to the most likely 25% of the population that would sample my asiago bagel. Bagels are carbs. I am fat; therefore bagels are only a once in a while singular breakfast treat. I do not purchase a package of bagels. I made the mistake of leaving my one beautiful bagel in its crinkly bakery bag on the spot on the counter where Olivia takes or samples things. She had a separate spot for shredding my mail.

Unfortunately, some cat math is more complicated. I can guesstimate which 50% of the clowder left me a gooey dingleberry stripe across the carpet one Monday morning. Birdie as an expert scooter is the most likely candidate, but Sookie has an equally fluffy bum.

A more pleasant calculation is the approval rating of the new fluffy donut bed that I purchased. Cats rarely like anything that you purposefully buy for them, so it is a tiny miracle that 75% of them have approved the purchase. (Olivia is not interested!) In fact, 50% of the cats are so into the bed, that I had to buy a second one to prevent a turf war.

Neither Sookie nor Birdie, the saltiest, sassiest 50% of the glaring, were willing to back down if they were in possession of the fluffy bed. There was a lot of intense staring from about a foot away and at least one altercation. The easiest way to solve for X was to purchase a second equally fluffy donut bed.