Oh they know. And they take pleasure in the fact. Sure, sometimes you'll get two 8-9 inch long parallel, bleeding scratches on your upper thigh 'accidently' resulting from a misjudged maximum performance takeoff.

Even then the best you can hope for is a quick, squinty look of apology. That's probably too much to hope for, unless your cat really loves you.

EDIT ok before you guys get on my case, I love cats. I love them. (and dogs, but thats another story)

I once rescued a kitten from the county fair when I was an 8 or 10 year old kid (50 cents each from a cardboard box, from a farming family.) and snuck her home in the glove box of my grandfather's station wagon. After my parents said I couldn't have a cat, I asked them for 50 cents for a soda.

I formulated a plan. first, the escape. The glove box. Could be. Is it safe for a little kitty? I made sure she would make it home safe. Plenty of air in the glove box, no openings she could crawl into, but a few small ones for air. Ok.

I paid the family and told them to hold the cat for me. An hour or two later, we had to leave. I said I had to go pee (I know, a little kid by himself, but this was rural, and 30 years ago. different world.) Anyway, I went and got the cat. Tucked her in my shirt, I think.. Somehow snuck her into the glove box... I think my grandpa knew but he wasn't talking.

It was maybe a 45 minute drive. I sat in the front seat, ready to pull her out if I heard any mewing of distress.

That cat was named G.C. (glove compartment) and she lived 15 years. Never mewed once when she was in the glove box. Mom fell in love when I opened the glove box as we pulled in the driveway.

"I got a cat," I said. "Your father will be thrilled," she said.

She was all black, like a burmese. I guess that's why i thought of this story. A lot smaller than this one, though.