Over the years I’ve had cats that taught themselves to fetch, usually something odd, like wadded-up paper, the plastic ring from a jug cap, a plastic fork, but I noticed that they tended to do this as juveniles and as more sedentary adults the behavior dwindled away.
Our tortoiseshell started fetching things as an adult, perhaps not coincidentally after we added an adorable, playful kitten to the household. It’s not exactly “fetch,” though. She simply chooses an item to bring to a family member or members. She decided a while ago that a sheepskin car-washing mitt she climbed up on a shelf in the laundry room to get is hers, and it’s hilarious to see this little 8-lb. cat carrying a giant fuzzy mitt down (or up) the stairs, chirpng her special “I’m bringing you something” mew through her full mouth. If I find her mitt outside my bedroom door in the morning, I know she missed me in the night.
It is indeed hilarious, the things they like to carry around, chirping. I had an elderly tuxie boy who adored a small purple teddy bear toy, would carry it around mewling every day. But the champion of thing-draggers was my late Tribble, who captured an afghan off my bed and dragged it trailing between her straddled-out forelegs through the living room into the kitchen. She was very proud of her kill.
My cat Atilla washes me and I find it not fun, as the tongue feels like wet sandpaper. I gently try to push him away but he doesn’t learn. Atilla also licks the dog Mauser, and he seems good with it.
If I’m sitting on the couch reading and Hermes wants attention, he’ll reach up and strike down the paper. From the floor. I’m amazed he can reach the top. The first time he did I was shocked. He’s been doing it ever since, and still does it sometimes.
He also has a gentle way of doing it – he’ll pat your foot.
When she’s in our room and lonely, or wants to be petted, or she thinks that we ought to come to bed, Hestia will begin crying very loudly, over and over.
@Bob_Blaylock: Nice pictures! and very definitely a cabinet cat.
My cabinet under the kitchen sink has a child latch on it. Also useful for keeping cats out of the cleaning supplies.
My current batch seem more likely to get on top of the cabinets (and the counters. And the kitchen table, damn it!) than to make sustained attempts to get into them.
I once lived in a long, rectangular apartment building,three stories high with 6 apartments in a row.
My cat would hike the entire length of the building, starting on the balcony of my apartment…3 stories up in the air. Balancing like a tightrope walker, she started by jumping up on my balcony railing, then walking along it till she could jump up to a window sill, then walk along the window sill, and then jump down onto the balcony railing of the neighbor’s apartment, along his railing, jump up to his window sill, jump down to the next neighbor’s balcony, etc,etc,etc. Then she would turn around and come back the same way.
(The window sills were wood, so she had some traction for her claws. The balcony railings were 2-inch wide strips of metal, with no traction.)
It scared the hell out of me, but I eventually got used to it and let her roam …
Until the day she came home with a fried chicken wing in her mouth!
I didn’t know which neighbor to apologize to…but I never let the cat onto the balcony again. :).
Cat: Never mind that, GIVE IT BACK!
When my furry chonker Pixie wants attention, she will come sit neatly in front of me, meow, and gently tap my leg once or twice with a paw. It was adorable the first couple of dozen times. Thousands of times later, not so much.
You have an exceptionally polite cat. Count yourself lucky.
Could be worse. Mine hop up next to me and shove the laptop or book I’m focused on aside.
Buddy likes to hang out on the edge of the tub while I’m in there. He tends to decide I need instruction in proper cleaning and gets very insistent about licking my arm (that being what he can easily reach).
I am cracking up at all these tales of feline shenanigans, and thinking, yes, that is why we invite these little furry monsters into our lives, innit?