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Cat Talk

11 Apr

A lot of people (mostly dog people) say that cats are jerks.  I believe (probably because I’m more of a cat person) that people who don’t like cats don’t understand them or are really just afraid of them.  Or they want them to behave like dogs, which is not what they do… because they’re cats.

But as much as I love my cats, sometimes they will do something so inherently cat-like that I just can’t stand it.

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This is Waffles drinking out of my damn cup! MY cup!

Waffles specifically is really great at knocking stuff on the floor.  She’s not clumsy, she’s deliberate.  She’ll be sitting on a table or counter and see something there—you can see the wheels turning in her head about what that thing is, why it is there, and where it should be.  She’ll decide it’s better off on the floor, and, poof, knock it down.  I suppose it’s poetic justice—when I was a baby my mom wrote in my baby book “If you want something on the floor, give it to Danielle.”  Touché, universe.

As evidenced in the photo above, the cats are also adept at drinking out of my cup when I turn my back or forget to cover it.  I could let this go every so often if it weren’t for the fact that they stick their dirty little litter paws in the water too!  Then they shake them off like “Ew, my paw is wet! Gross!”

They also like tearing up paper and paper towels…

And try to get into closed cabinet doors where I keep stuff they aren’t supposed to eat or play with…

And they are messy eaters…

And they spazz when there’s a noise which, if they are sitting on your lap, is dangerous and sometimes bloody…

And they shed.  All.  Over.  Everything.

But as much as they drive me bonkers a good deal of the time, something just melts inside me when they snuggle up and purr when I’m having a bad day or when they nudge to take your hand to keep petting them.

I hope it’s not part of their evil plan…

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Cat Masochism. Cat-ochism?

4 Feb

I will often sit for long periods of time, in agony—having to pee or in the throes of a shoulder or leg cramp—so I don’t disturb my cats as they sleep on my lap.  The fact that I know that they can fall asleep anywhere, and sleep for about 22 hours a day, doesn’t factor into my thought process at all.  Never mind the fact that when I am trying to sleep they are perfectly content to run around, knock things over, and wake me up early to get me to feed them with no regard for MY sleep habits or preferences.  How do they know that the time is RIGHT before my alarm is set to go off?!

You can't see, but that's my lap under all of that cat.

You can’t see, but that’s my lap under all of that cat-ness.

It doesn’t help that they do that thing that little kids do when they don’t want to be picked up—they somehow make themselves like 20 pounds heavier and turn their muscles to jelly so they don’t have to stand up.  I pick them up by their bellies and do this little dance like with a marionette trying to get their feet to prop up on the ground so they will go their merry little cat way.  It often takes a few tries before I feel like I can let go so they won’t collapse on the ground or rear back and bite/scratch.

Pure cat-loving masochism.

Since You Asked…

4 Jan
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Waffles (left) and Edie (right)

Whether a person is genuinely interested or not, if I am asked about my cats I WILL talk about them more than the socially acceptable length of time.

Me (IMing my mom):  omg, edie was so cute this morning!

Mom:  really?  what did she do?

Me:  nothing really, she was just kind of sitting cute

I adopted my girls Waffles and Edie (they came with those names and they were too weird to change) in June 2012 after lots and lots of back and forth about my readiness to be a good kitty mommy.  I don’t like doing anything unless I’m sure I’ll be at least a B+ at it, so I gave it A LOT of thought.  Despite my really wanting them, I had a pretty hard time adjusting, since they are rascals and I am a stickler for my routines (which they were pouncing on and changing).  But now we have our own little routine—which mostly consists of me hiding things that they will eat/get cat hair on, either preemptively or after they’ve done some kitty damage.

I used to blame all of the mischief on Waffles (she’s the more courageous of the two), but then I saw Edie running hurriedly away with my slipper in her teeth, so now it’s anyone’s guess who is actually causing all of the trouble around my studio apartment.  Waffles is more traditionally cat-like (agile, good jumper, hisses at things, tries to escape) and Edie is more abstractly cat-like (namely, spazzy, clutzy, scared of everything).  Both are equally cat-like in their ability to repel men, even men who like cats.  They’re cockblockers, I tell ya.