This is so funny. You could be talking about my cats.
One of my cats likes to stick her paw into whatever I’m drinking, then shakes her paw to get the wetness off, then sticks her paw back in the glass. Gee, thanks…
Pooping in the bathtub? At least that’s better than pooping on the carpet. Easier to clean up!
Can I add just one pleeeeeeze?
Cat: I know you love me, but please quit bringing in live mice as gifts. Quit playing with them in my bedroom at 4am, quit leaving them lying around in the bathroom when they’re dead so as I can step on them in the morning when I get into the shower, and quit leaving the living ones around to frolick through my CD rack when they feel like it. And finally, when you see me chasing one of those suckers around my house in the middle of the night, don’t just sit there and watch it running literally through your feet, catch the damn thing!
May I add one, too, please?
Mocha, I’m glad you’re rediscovered your ability to play at age ten. But the next time you grab my foot and rip open two of my toes instead of attacking your toy, I’m going to do more than scream. I might shave you as threatened.
Oh man, I’m wiping tears away i’m laughing so hard. I have one to add myself.
Q-tips are NOT toys! Do NOT go digging through the trash to play with them, and do NOT leave them all over the house. And just because I leave the medicine cabinet open a hair, and leave for work, doesn’t mean for you to worm your way into it and get at the Q-tip treasure trove. I dislike comining home to find 1000 Q-tips all over the house.
And why do ya’ll have cats again? 
Because they’re our iddle widdle babies and, while we pretend to be mad at them, they really can do no wrong.
(As if dogs are any better. I just got done listening to my co-worker’s “night from hell”–first her pug wakes her up at 3:00 AM wanting a drink of water and thanks her by raising his leg on the bedroom wall, then the boxer wakes her up at 5:00 AM by puking all over her in her sleep, though it wasn’t the puking that woke her up, it was the licking up of the puke. Animals! :rolleyes: )
I’ve got you all beaten.
Chester is a large gray striped DSH, about 7 years old. Because we live in an upper-floor apartment, he’s strictly an indoor cat. My wife used to own a plush toy seal (also gray). Although Chester is fixed, this doesn’t seem to have affected his…umm…manly urges. Can everyone see where this is going?
Chester used to rape my wife’s plush toy seal. At its head, by the way. I guess he was into kitty fellatio. He wasn’t shy about it, either. We’d have friends over, chatting pleasantly in the living room, and here comes Chester, carrying his girlfriend. He’d drop the seal on the carpet and do a floor show for us. Trust me on this: watching your cat masturbate is guaranteed to derail any conversation.
After a few months of unsuccessful discouragement, Mrs Kamandi got fed up and threw out Chester’s girlfriend. By then the seal was starting to look kind of gross anyway. I guess Chester is a one-girl cat, because he never put the moves on any of my wife’s other plush toys.
Damn, I wish I had it on film.
Damn Kamandi, I almost choked on my Twizzlers! Good stuff.
To my cats: I know you feel you must run across my bed at night. That’s fine, I usually don’t notice, however if you could please try not to stomp my balls on your journey across, I’d greatly appreciate it!
Dmitry, I know you like to be in high places and I have no problem with you jumping from the counter to the fridge to the washer-dryer stack to assume overwatch. I don’t even mind picking you up and setting you on the high shelves in my closet every once in a while, but please don’t hop on my back when I bend over to spit out toothpaste or pick up my shoes or something! I know you are damn cute perched on my shoulders, but the claws when I stand up again are a bit much.
Alexi, you are a beautiful little kitty (purebred Tiffany Persian) and I love you very much. I get a kick out of the way you stand on the back of the couch to greet me every afternoon when I come through the door and I think the way you raise your head to touch my nose with yours is absolutely precious, but if you wouldn’t mind, please don’t meow in my face. Your breath smells like ass. Fish flavored ass. <blech>
Oh, and for those of you that might have missed it, check out my sisters kitten in this kitty thread.
I’m not sure this belongs in the BBQ Pit, it’s too “uplifting”. I’m in hysterics and getting strange looks from my co-workers as I laugh/snort/guffaw my way through this.
I’d forgotten about the joys of cat ownership (I haven’t had one in a few years, but want to. Now I just need to convince the spouse.)
Favorite tricks: One cat would curl up under my neck at night and suck on my hair. I’d wake up with a neckful of cat-spittle. Another cat would lick my eyelids if I was asleep. But my favorite was the cat who had the “rips” at 3:00 am. I’d hear him run down the hall jingle-jingle-jingle (his tags on his collar), then I’d hear Thump!! as he ran headfirst into the wall. After a moment, I’d hear him run back the other way, *jingle-jingle-jingle…Thump!!" On and on and on. No, he wasn’t the brightest cat I’ve ever known.
Shilla, you are a sweet wonderful beautiful kitty, and I love having you in my lap when I’m on the computer…
but would you please SIT DOWN!
Virgil, you know I love you. I also know that you are a sensitive, special boy. So if you are scurrying about near my feet and I suddenly start to walk…
Don’t jump right in front of me!
You will get bumped, resulting in an unpleasant seizure of terror. I will stumble forward, pull myself back in an effort not to fall directly on top of you, and land squarely on my ass for the thousandth time.
So please knock it off.
Dinner will be at the usual time tonight, of course.
Kamandi, my throat still hurts from doing a really bad job of stifling my guffaws over your post. Kudos to you!
Ahem. To my cats:
Gizmo, my little gimlet, I know you worry about me dreadfully when I step into the shower in the mornings, but stop trying to rescue me. The shower-hesd is very wide, and just like yesterday morning, it still sprays water all over the tub. When you hop in, you will get wet. When you go tearing all over the tub because you can’t find your way past the shower curtain, you cut my feet with your claws. Quit it. Also, I am trying to help you. Stop acting so tragic.
Cringer, my wee battle-cat, it’s 6:00am. I don’t have to be up for half an hour. Laying on my head, giving my skull a bear hug and then chewing on my hair and scalp is not endearing, no matter how loud you purr whilst munching. Go away. And while we’re at it, C, squirting out the front door as soon as I get home and blockading the door when I try to leave again is gettin’ real old.
And to both of you: I just got dressed! Why are you suddenly so interested in rubbing my ankles? Those pants are black!
Beru (aka DaSquid, Squid, Miss B, Turdhead, Turdhead Kittybutt, Rotten, PrettyGirl and a variety of others): I love ya dearly. As I’ve said before, you’re the only girl in my life that’s never let me down. But you have GOT to learn that when people are walking in the hallway of the building, it doesn’t mean that they’re coming to take you away. You must also learn that I decide when you go outside. Cat, we live on the third floor, so you can only venture out on the balcony. Please, don’t jump off again. The vet keeps giving me strange looks. You should know by now that you are NOT the most graceful cat that has ever walked the earth. I think your brains are still scrambled from that concussion you gave yourself by running into the patio door chasing the fly. Also, do NOT wake me up anymore by sticking your claws into my nostrils. And remember this, cat, if nothing else: If I tell you not to do something, and you keep doing it, and I prod you with the “Beru-be-good-stick,” I mean it. Also, I put the food down, so I win EVERY arguement.
I’ve seen this happen with my uncle’s cat. I burst out laughing when the cat was doing it last Christmas and couldn’t stop for the longest time. Only it wasn’t a seal, it was a plush monkey.
My eight going on nine year old cat Wilma does this thing where she’s get into my bathroom sink and curl up in it and lay there. She’ll also get back up, in the sink, and try to sharpen her claws on the side of the sink.
My eldest cat, Fred (almost ten years old), does the “drinking out of the water cup” thing. This gets to be a real problem because I can’t leave any glass on anything in my room. I’ve gone so far as to put a seperate water bowl in my room to make him stop. He has, so far.
thinksnow, I’ve got 3 words for ya : tartar control treats. My cat used to have a bad habit of waking me by standing on my chest and bawling into my face each morning. The treats didn’t make her breath minty fresh, but they did get it out of the “curl your nose hair” category.
And to my little Molly: I love you, kitty. But pouncing on our feet when Mr. Nightingale and I are being intimate is not funny. Or conducive to the romantic mood. So cut it out!
You mean my cat’s not the only one? neptune, have your uncle get some video of that monkey action. I’ll bet it would play really well on Atom Films.
My brother and I used to laugh so hard at my cat’s floor show I’m surprised we didn’t injure ourselves. But my wife was always TOTALLY mortified. “My grandmother gave me that seal when I was eight” she’d cry, vainly trying to break it up with a water pistol. Strangely, that only made us laugh harder.
Dear DoubleTrouble kitty,
When I’m getting in the shower and my bare butt is turned to you, will you please stop taking a swipe at it with claws extended. My girlfriend no longer believes that “the cat did it”. Thanks hon.
Got 'em, use 'em. The cats used to eat them like they were food from Heaven above. They stopped about a month ago, though, won’t touch them now.
They never did do much for Alexis breath, either way.
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*Originally posted by Kamandi *
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[QUOTE]
*Originally posted by neptune_1984 *
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Hey, at least your cats went for ‘animals’
My very first cat Beauregard (I had NO involvement with that name, Beauregard Lieberman, how STUPID!) Anyway,wool sweaters, blankets and towels were the objects of his desire. The family would go out and come home to find towels in the middle of the living room that look as if they had been pulled through a wringer with a point at the end. Once, in a hurry to get to school, I through on a sweater and when I got to school, I was horrified to find that the sweater bore the scars of a tryst with Beau. Two big fang marks. I was grossed out all day.
I went to school to be a vet tech and I had to drop out because my allergies to cats were way to severe.(pathetic side note; I had hoped to work at the Chicago Cat Clinic) I still love cats and miss them desperately. However, I do have a small dog who is an excellent cat substitute. She’s a Min Pin (rescue dog who violates every breed standard and weighs a whopping 12 lbs) who doesn’t bark, bite, participate in any raindeer type games (fetch) and her favorite hobbies are eating and snoring. So since I cannot have any actual
cats, I hope you will indulge me in a brief statement to the dogs:
Lilly: Yes, you are the cutest dog ever, but staring at me while I eat will not get you any food. Also, I know we all need to cough sometimes but if you could just not cough in my face, like you’re hacking up a hairball, it would be much appreciated.
Zac- 50 lb border collie mutt(real name Prozac because he is an excellent antidepressent) While I know that ‘happiest dog in the world’ is the game of champions (requires tossing toy in the air and bodyslamming it down on whatever avalible furniture is near by) could you please put try not to knock over all the lamps while playing?
Also, no matter how many times you bring me you slimy, ball/canvas sqeaky toy, I DON’T WANT IT!!
Please try to refrain from eating all my dirty sock and underwear. If nothing else, could you at least not run through the house with my panties in your mouth while the gentleman callers are here.
WARNING: Potential grossout material…you have been warned
USED tampons and pad are not little TREATS FOR YOU!!!
While they seem to do you no harm, dispite being a former vet tech, assisting you in passing the tampon (thank god for the string) ITS SOOOO GROSS! THERE IS A REASON THE GARBAGE IS ON THE COUNTER one week a month!
Other than that, you both are the light of my life and I will keep you anyway. Although it would kill you guys to get a job or pick up around the house while I go to work to support you in the manner in which you have become accustomed.
Thank you for you attention to this matter
Michelle, you are not my cat. You are the neighbors cat, and just because your family moved out of my house and next door, does NOT mean you can still run in my house everytime I open the door.
My roomates and I are tired of chasing you around the house to try and put you out.
Now, don’t get me wrong, your a great friend and my favorite neighborhood pet, but you’re not not MY cat!
The neighbors treat you little the princess you are, and so do I, everytime I’m outside I stop whatever I’m doing to hang out with you a little, but still, please stop coming inside.
And NEVER run in while I’m not watching and return home after classes or work only to see you bathing yourself on my couch.
Even though you are a very polite guest when you come in (by not going to be bathroom on my carpet), still the fact remains that you are NOT MINE!
And STOP eyeing my poptarts in the morning while I’m eating breakfast on the steps, and remember my coffee will ALWAYS be streaming hot…remember what happens everytime when try to dunk your nose in it.