Yes, I have observed many actions of cat’s that defy our known understanding of the physical world.
Iggy, our small, skinny jet black cat normally stood ~12 inches from toe to tip of ears. But, when she was outside and wanted to come back in, she would transform from a short quadruped into a 6’5” biped. Then when we’d hear her demanding *meow *and see her face peering above the back door curtain, and we started to walk toward the door, she’d transform back into a short quadruped before we opened the door. Some people have suggested that the outer screen door may have had something to do with it, but I don’t think so—it had something to do with quantum physics.
Cats can also suspend time at will. I observed this with our Great Dane, Guinevere and our fat, jet white cat, Pasha (an assertive feline with a bad disposition). Guinevere was a sweet dog, but not too bright; not bright enough to learn from his mistakes. He’d often try to nuzzle his muzzle against Pasha who would invariably plant his claws deep into canine’s nose (the meaty tip with lots of sensory nerves). At that point, time for them both stopped for at least 10 seconds, neither moving a muscle; just looking each other in the eye (Pasha: what are you gonna do now, Guin?; Guin: damned if I know). And then, BAM, time would return from suspension, Pasha would retract the claws and Guin would run away in pain.
Also from that thread:
No, but if they get locked into a house and you’re locked out, they can get you in.
When I was a youngster, my family and I returned home one evening to find that all the doors to the house were locked. Just as my dad was about to find a rock to break a window, I said, “hold your horses, dad (he didn’t really have horses, it’s just an expression), I’ve got an idea; follow me.”
So, mom, dad and my siblings followed me to the rear sliding glass door that had the wooden door jamb holding the glass door shut on the inside. I located a flexible twig, and started brushing it enticingly on the glass just above the door jamb as I called for Tibby (our cat just coincidentally shares my name) who was cat-napping not far away. Tibby wakes, comes to the door, starts batting at the twig against the glass and knocks the jamb out of the door track, thus allowing us to gain entry. It was a miracle. Tibby and I were the family heroes (it didn’t last long—I was a bad kid).
The solution to this paradox is quite easy to solve. At the moment of impact, the buttered cat landed both feet down and butter-side down (Schrödinger and all). It’s just that the cat became momentarily invisible (some type of quantum tunneling trick they’ve learned, no doubt) and there was no one to observe the cat in both states. When it returned to visibility, the wave collapsed and we see only one cat.
But, let this be a warning to all you DYI physicists experimenters out there. Do not harness two cats together back to back, wedge a slice of bread buttered on both sides between them, then drop this combo from a height. Doing so can result in immediate, irreversible and complete proton decay of the universe. It’s theorized that this may not be a good thing, so don’t try it.