11 posts tagged “cats”
A friend (yes, I really do have one or two left that haven't run away screaming) sent me this ecard from American Greetings. How Cats Celebrate Birthdays. From personal experience, I have to say that it's spot on.
Day 0: Purchase new quilt and cover at Ikea to replace old quilt and cover that have been pee'd on one-too-many times by Stinky.
Day 1: New duvet cover now covered with enough loose cat fur to make an entirely new cat. Stinky obviously approves of new color.
Day 4: Stinky pees on new quilt. Big, ugly, wet circle. Thankfully humans are trainable -- new duvet is synthetic, not down.
This morning I get out of the shower and find His Majesty, King Corwin the First, regally stretched out on the bath mat. It's next to the radiator, so he's nice and comfy and has claimed the space as his own. I cautiously stepped around him, like working my way through a mine field, trying not to drip any water on HRH. This is a rough translation of our conversation.
Corwin: meow.
Me: Hey, big guy. What's up?
Corwin: Meow!
Me (reaching down to scratch him under the chin): Ok, I'll pet you. Jeez.
Corwin: I said, MEOW!
Me (continuing to scratch him under the chin and behind the ears): What do you want already? Your bowl is full. The box is clean. Talk to me. Use your words.
The following is reproduced, without permission I should add, solely because it amuses the hell out of me. It's one of my favorite pictures in the Bad Cat calendar.
Seeing as how it's the end of May, I figure it's high time to put away my sweaters and turtle necks and bring out the short sleeves and other summer wear. Someone(s) decided to "help" me with the process.
I did find one of my favorite shirts, a gift from Wife a while back. Anyone else remember who this is?
note Weasel sleeping on top of his favorite brush
Sometimes the boys (cats) like to explore. Usually not too far, and under carefully controlled circumstances. Last night as I walked out the back door to throw out the garbage, Stinkie ran through my feet and started sniffing around the back stairwell (we live on the third floor). Then Weasel comes out to join him. This isn't a big deal; they've done it before. Usually they sniff the neighbor's door (she has a dog) and come running back inside. This time he goes down one flight and sniffs the next door, then starts heading down again.
Now I'm starting to get worried. The stairwell is semi-exposed and only has a gate at the bottom, not a solid door. Plus they're indoor cats. The only time they go out is to the vet. Most of their life of indolent luxury is spent sleeping on the couch, or hiding under the bed any time someone comes over. These are totally "whipped" laptop lap cats. Yet for some unknown reason, Stinkie decides he wants to go exploring. Right now. Can't wait for tomorrow. I'm tempted to yell "Write when you get work" and go inside, but instead I start walking down the stairs, making stupid "come here, nice kitty" noises, hoping I won't have to chase him down all three flights of stairs. But each time I get close, he runs down another flight, always staying just out of reach.
He's like a three-year, testing his boundries. How far can he get before I get really mad and scoop him up? Will I chase him all the way down to the ground? Who invented liquid soap, and why? All these questions and more swirl through my ADD brain. I'm not really worried he'll run away -- he doesn't have the backbone for it. Plus, he'd be eaten alive by the first squirrel he ran into. But I'm a little nervous because I don't know exactly how far he'll go.
Turns out it was only to the bottom landing. My stern voice finally convinced him that he was in big trouble and in danger of losing his TV priveledges for the remainder of the weekend, so he abruptly turned around and scurried back up the stairs. At least I didn't have to carry him all the way up. Oh, and Weasel only got down to the second floor.
I kid you not. I know this sounds like an episode of the Montel Williams show, but it's true. Corwin is sitting on my lap on the couch this evening as I'm eating dinner -- pasta with puttanesca. As I bring the fork up to my lips, he raises his head and starts sniffing. Lately he's become my official food sniffer. Anything I eat he has to get first dibs on. Usually he sniffs once or twice, then turns his nose up at it, indicating, "Well, I wouldn't touch it, but if you really can't find anything better, it's yours."
If I don't let him sniff, then he starts with the serious paw action. As in, his front paw reaches out and grabs the plate/bowl/cup of whatever I was about to eat, and pulls it down to his face, where he can sniff it and render a pass/fail judgment.
Tonight he sniffed the pasta, then started licking it. I almost died laughing! Cannelloni isn't the easiest shape for a cat to eat, so I broke one in half and placed it on the floor on a napkin. He ate it right up. I put down a second piece (these were without sauce) and he ate that one as well. WTF? I've seen him eat pizza crust and potato chips, so I guess he really is becoming a carb junkie. Just like his old man.
P.S. Wife had a turkey & brie sandwich, which is much more typical cat food. Except Corwin wasn't interested, and neither were his brothers. They all turned their noses up at it. Hey, move for me.
