I published a blog post once that I thought was brilliant, carefully researched, elegantly structured, full of insight.
The comments fell into four distinct camps. One person said it changed their thinking. Another said “Great post” and clearly hadn’t read past the headline. A third picked apart my sources. And a fourth used my ideas as a springboard for something I’d never considered.
Four readers. Four entirely different relationships with the same words.
That’s when I realized I wasn’t writing for “readers.” I was writing for four different species of attention, and I’d been catering to only one of them.
Educational psychology has a name for this. Building on the work of education designer Bernice McCarthy and her 4MAT system, I think of these four learning styles as the Menagerie Model: Cats, Dogs, Rats, and Monkeys.
Each of us naturally speaks to one type. Which means three types are sitting in the cold. Let’s fix that.
Cats: “What’s in It for Me?”
Your Cat readers lead with Why?
This is the most common learning style, so ignore them at your peril. Cats remember eighth-grade math class, that desperate moment when you wondered when anyone would explain what algebra was going to do for you.
Cats want to know:
Why do I care about this? How does this make my life better? * Why am I spending my precious time reading your words?
Feed Cats with benefit-rich headlines. Show them the cheeseburger immediately. If they don’t see the payoff, they vanish without a trace.
Dogs: “Show Me How”
Your Dog readers are the common-sense pragmatists. They learn by doing, experimenting, and watching something work in the real world.
(There’s a reason “show, don’t tell” is the most durable advice in writing. It’s for the Dogs.)
Dogs want concrete examples. Case studies. Step-by-step walkthroughs. If you can give them a “try this right now” exercise, they’ll love you forever.
Theory makes Dogs nervous. Application makes Dogs loyal.
Rats: “Prove It”
Like clever lab rats running increasingly complex mazes, your Rat readers are analytical and meticulous. They’ll read your entire post, every word, instead of skimming.
(I know. I didn’t believe it either. But they exist, and they are magnificent nerds.)
Rats want logic. Evidence. Citations. They want to know what the experts think, and if you can make yourself an authority in their eyes, they’ll follow you anywhere.
Feed Rats with factual bullet points, references to other smart discussions, and the kind of substantive content that makes most people’s eyes glaze over. To a Rat, that’s a feast.
Monkeys: “Let Me Play”
Your Monkey readers do something magical: they make your content their own.
They riff on your ideas. Link to you. Tweet back. Ask questions in the comments that are smarter than your original post. They’re the most engaged, supportive, and flat-out fun readers in your audience.
Monkeys thrive on open loops and loose ends. Don’t wrap every post in a neat bow. Leave something for them to explore, extend, or argue with.
Express your point boldly. Then invite other takes. Make your content a conversation, not a lecture. And get in touch with your own inner Monkey, riff on other people’s ideas, link generously, play.
If there’s one thing Monkeys love, it’s other Monkeys.
Building for the Whole Menagerie
Nobody is all Cat or all Rat. Each of us carries a mix of all four. The goal isn’t to write four separate articles, it’s to write one article that speaks to every corner of the Menagerie.
A single post might have a benefit-rich headline for the Cat, a practical “try this” tip for the Dog, factual evidence for the Rat, and an open question for the Monkey to play with.
This model scales, too. Use it when building online courses, membership sites, or information products. The creators who serve the whole Menagerie create work that’s head and shoulders above what their competitors are putting out.
Audit your last few posts. Which animal have you been ignoring? The one you’re not feeding is the reader you’re losing.
