There was the man. The man had an assistant who filled the bird feeders. It took the assistant three hours a day, every day, to keep ahead of the birds. The man also had a dog, whose job it was to invite cats to the house, but the cats preferred not to visit.

The assistant collected feathers off the ground around the house, and every week the man would take these to the outdoor market. The cats of the market would hear the feathers approaching, for when the feathers moved in the sack they made a distinctive noise which the cats could not mistake. The sound of two feathers brushing against each other is one of the faintest that can be heard (though not quite as quiet as the burp of a snail, and definitely louder than the voice of a talking cabbage) but when enough feathers move at once, say when a bird as large as a cow flies overhead or when a 30 gallon bag of feathers is heaved about, the cats could hear them. The cats however did not think the sound was made by a sack or a bovine bird but rather by a whole great flock of regular-sized birds approaching from far away. Remarkably, the cats never learned that the flock that approached the marketplace every Tuesday was nothing other than a big bag of feathers.

"Did you hear that?" a cat would say to a cat.

"It sounds like birds."

And they listened to count the feathers.

---

The birds of the market paid no attention to the sound of the feathers. It could be that their ears had become desensitized, as feathers make a sound that birds never not hear. Senses accommodate in this way, blocking out the background noises that don't change, such as how snails don't feel themselves being slimy, or when humans come to ignore the sound of their own thoughts. A bird, however, might hear a cat talking.

"Did you hear that?" a bird would say to a bird.

"It sounds like cats."

"I think they are talking about birds."

"They are talking about us? How can you tell? We birds can't understand the language of cats."

"That's precisely why I know they are talking about us: because we can't understand. They are using an encrypted language because they know we might be listening in."

"What do you think the cats are saying about us?"

"They are probably talking about how they wish they could fly like us."

"Cats want to fly?"

"Yes, but they are too lazy to learn. See how they stick flat to the pavement?"

"Aren't they just too heavy to fly?"

"Heavy? Of course not. Consider the sun: it as at least as heavy as a cat and yet it flies with perfect grace."

"I had not thought of that."

"Well, you are as silly as the cats: they too think they are too heavy to fly, which is why they eat birds. Because we are light, they believe that eating us will make them lighter. It is an inefficient ways to diet, much like eating puffed pastry."

...

The man threw the bag of feathers onto the shopkeepers table, making a sound like that of a thousand birds landing.

"Shall we make our regular barter" the shopkeeper asked, "2 bags of birdseed for one bag of birdfeather?"

"No, I don't need the seed. The birds aren't working. It may be a sustainable system - I fill feeders, birds flock in for food, feathers fall, and I trade these back to you - but who needs sustainability? By its very nature it goes nowhere. I need change. To be specific, I wanted the birds so they would attract cats, but the cats have not come. My dog has not been any help either: I gave it the task of inviting cats to visit, but it too has been a complete failure."

"If you wanted cats, why didn't you just buy cats in the first place?"

"I am of the opinion that cats can't be bought - one must earn their loyalty. But now I will take my chances with a trade. How many cats can I get for these feathers?"

"For this many feathers? Five I suppose."

"That is fine. I'll take five cats."

"No no, not five cats, don't let them hear you say it that way. It's cat cat cat cat cat. Cats are exceedingly independent you know."

"Oh yes. I am quite aware of their independence. In fact, did you know that that's why they can't fly? They won't flock. They don't fly merely because they refuse to form flocks. Instead they form prides, or more frequently they are too proud to join an organization of any kind."

"I did not know that. I always just assumed it was because they were too lazy to learn."

"Learn? No, flying isn't learned, it is an innate trait, just as being too lazy to fly is an innate trait."

...

"Hey! Come here." The dog said, to the cat that sat in the sun between the shadows that streaked across the street. "Hey. Hey. Hey!" The dog ran back and forth to try to catch the cat's attention. "Come here. Don't you want to come over to visit?"

The cat rolled back and let its eyes reflect the sky.

The dog felt like a failure. It barked louder and more rapidly, but knew the cat probably just thought this was rude. If I could only get over this fence I would talk to the cat from up close like a civilized animal, then I could persuade it to come over to visit the house.

Of course, the dog was forgetting a few details, such as that cats can't understand dogs, and that the dog itself only wanted the cat to come over so it could chase he cat, which is actually what the dog would really be doing if he were going over to talk to the cat.

"Come here come here come here" the dog barked.

...

The cat stared up at the sky and saw a flock of birds fly across it. They were far higher than the height that cats can jump to, so the cat just watched the flock rake the sky, but in the process one small form eclipsed the sun, casting a shadow over the cat. This made the cat furious, and it stared up angrily at the offending bird. It was not fair that the birds could intercept the sunlight. The flock banked and arced downward, and the angry cat could not stop itself from leaping upwards, front claws uselessly scraping the air far below any birds. "Stay out of my sunshine," the cat yelled.

The birds misunderstood. Since the cat yelled upwards, they too looked upwards, and assumed the cat must be yelling at the sun. They thought the cat was trying to convince the sun to fly closer. Birds know that cats like to lay in the gaze of the sun, so it was perfectly reasonable for them to assume that cats want the sun to come closer. The birds saw this as proof of the laziness of cats, for if cats wanted to get closer to the sun, they should learn to fly. The birds, on the other hand, never bothered trying to fly closer to the sun, for the sun looked too small to warrant further investigation.

Meanwhile, as the cat cursed the birds with meows from its mouth, it saw something approach from the sky. The thing moved cautiously, as if it retained some of a birds' fear of cats, drifting back and forth as it fell, like a football player dodging invisible linebackers, slowly approaching the goal of earth. The cat watched it land. It was a feather, and because there was only one the cat did not hear the sound of it hitting the ground.

The birds themselves eventually settled in the trees that grew around the house with the bird feeders. Despite the offering of the feather, the cat was still angry at the birds, and wanted to go over and voice a complaint, but the cat did not want to go near that house because the dog that lived there was impolite.

...

"Did you see that?" A tree said to a tree. "I moved a branch."

"You moved a branch? Impossible. It must have been the wind."

"No, check your leaves, there's no wind. I did it myself."

"Really? Which branch?"

"The one up high to the north, with the crook that casts a shadow that looks like the arm of a man holding a bird."

"That branch? The one with the bird on it? It moved because the bird landed on it. You didn't move it."

"No, I moved it. That's why the bird landed: I waved my branch to get the bird's attention so it would come and land."

"You're making that up."

"No way, I can't be making it up. Trees lack the capacity to think creatively."

"Trees also lack the capacity to move without an outside force."

"Yes we are, watch this."

"What?"

"Watch."

"Watch what?"

"Wait."

"What?"

"Just Wait."

After a spell, a leaf fell, drifting slowly down like a feather.

"See that leaf? I told you trees can move."

"You didn't make that leaf fall, you just waited for it to fall. It wasn't your will that made it fall."

"Of course it was, for it was my will to wait for it to fall."

...

The man lifted the bag out of the trunk of his car. It was a difficult procedure because the bag kept changing its shape.

"Sit still sack," said the man. "Decide on a shape and stay in it. How can I be expected to hold something that does not know what it wants to look like?"

A large lump appeared in the cloth, forcing the man to reposition a hand, but his grip landed on a row of claws that had poked through the canvas.

"Damn cats" he said, dropping the whole sack on the floor. "I thought you cats were lazy."

The impact incited more anarchy, and the man picked up the bag of cats with difficulty, thinking to himself how it was like trying to boil cabbage in his hands.

...

"I tell you, cats can't fly," said a bagged cat to a bagged cat.

"Not true, we flew. All five of us at once. We were a flying bag of cats."

"We weren't flying, we were falling because the sack had been dropped."

"You are such a gravitationalist. Einstein proved that a cat in a gravitational field is indistinguishable from a cat accelerating through space."

"No that was Schrodinger, and the result was not certain."

The cats had been arguing ever since they were placed in the bag. Being bagged had put them in a philosophical mood, and over the course of the journey their debates had become rather heated, which is why the bag itself had fallen into such turmoil.

They had begun by discussing the taxonomic orientation of cats. Two cats argued that cats are more closely related to trees than to birds, based on the facts that cats and trees both like the sun, and that neither cats nor trees can fly. Three cats, on the other hand, took the position that cats are more closely related to birds than to trees, basing their argument on the fact that cats and birds both move, while trees do not.

"Not true. Trees can move."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"They do, their shadows chase me across the street every afternoon."

"Trees can no more move than cats can fly."

"What are you talking about? We can fly."

"Cats can't fly."

"We can."

"You mean to tell me you have flown?"

"No, but that just because I have never bothered to. Just like I have never bothered to learn to play the trombone."

"Cats can't play trombones."

"Have you ever even tried to play the trombone?"

This was the moment when the argument became too intense for the man to hold, causing him to drop the bag of five flying cats.

Soon after the man picked the squirming sack back up, it suddenly became still.

"Did you hear that?" a cat said, "it sounded like a feather falling."

"One feather? It was probably just a leaf."

"A leaf? Either way, it might mean we are at the house with all the trees and bird feeders."

The cats started squirming again. "And the rude dog." A cat said to a cat. "And birds."

"And bird shadows."

...

"There. Did you hear it?" The man said to his assistant.

"Yes. It sounded like the burp of a giant snail." The man's assistant said to the man.

"Yes. But it is really the simultaneous burp of many snails. I estimate that there must be at least a thousand snails contributing to that burp." The man with an assistant said to his assistant.

"But how is it that they all burp at once?" Asked the man who assisted the man who had an assistant.

The man who's assistant worked for the man with an assistant replied, "Snails aren't very smart. Their brains are small and slimy. On its own, a snail would never think to burp at the same time as other snails, but working together the snails have enough brain power to come up with the idea. Its a miracle of collective intelligence."

"Or is it proof of the stupidity of collective intelligence?"

"Perhaps," considered the man, "but perhaps not, seeing as how the collective is unlikely to understand proofs."

"Perhaps," considered the assistant.

...

The two men turned silent as they watched the five cats explore the yard. The cats moved all about, checking behind bushes for the impolite dog and climbing trees to chase away bird shadows.

"I don't know, " the assistant finally said, "the cats don't seem that lazy to me."

"Oh. That's just curiosity," the man said. "It wont last. Cats can be curious, but they generally keep it too a minimum. They are well aware that too much can be lethal."

...

"What's with all the cats?" A snail said to a snail.

...

"What's with all the snails?" A cat said to a cat.

...

The cats eventually settled down, prowling more slowly between the shadows of the trees.

"There." The man said to his assistant. "Now we start to see how lazy cats can be."

"But will they be able to teach laziness to the snails?"

"Certainly. Cats are too lazy to learn, so instead they teach."

"By the way, why do you want the snails to learn laziness?"

"So they will eat less ambitiously. If they don't slow down they will devour all the cabbage plants."

...

The cats heard the burp of the snails. At first they thought it was the burp of one giant snail, and they feared that it might be coming closer.

"Are giant snails dangerous?"

"Yes. If they catch you."

"I believe it is not one large snail but thousands of small ones."

"All burping at once?"

"Yes. It is snail etiquette. If everyone burps at once, then they don't hear anyone else's burp. That way no one has to say excuse me."

"How remarkably intelligent."

"No, just collective."

One of the cats yawned. "Do you think a snail can catch a sleeping cat, or are we still faster in our sleep?"

"Of course we are faster than snails when we sleep. When cats sleep it is only a nap, so there won't be enough time for a snail to catch you before you awake."

"I think we should test that theory."

"We could, but I'm feeling too lazy."

...

"I think its working." The man said to his assistant. "See, the cats are demonstrating to the snails the proper method of being lazy."

"Does it look like the snails are paying attention?"

"Yes, in fact they even pretend not to notice. This stands to reason, as snails are very proud, and wouldn't want to give the cats the satisfaction of knowing they had taught them something."

"Why are they proud?"

"It is a product of their collective intelligence."

"Well, the cats are certainly ambitious. Look how hard they are working at demonstrating laziness."

...

"The man stopped filling the feeders," said a bird to a bird.

"Then that's that, plus now there's all those cats."

"I thought the seed was to keep us from eating his snails."

"Well, if he's not going to put seed out, then the deal is off. I'm going back to eating snails."

...

"Do you hear that?" A cabbage said to a cabbage.

"No. Replied a cabbage to a cabbage. What is it?"

"It sounds like two cabbages talking."

"Well, I don't hear it."