The Siamese would rather my filthy, germ encrusted hands would never come close. In fact Bear will let you know you’re too close by extending exactly one sharp claw and filleting your skin open. He does talk to me alot, especially if treats are present. Cat loves his treats.
Years ago, a friend and I conjured up a business called “Kitty Therapy.” She had had a dream where she entered a room that was full of kitties, all ages, shapes, sizes and colors. She stretched out on the floor, and the cats were all over her, demanding attention, and covering her with head bumps, soft little pats, cat kisses, and plenty of purrs. She said when she woke up, she was in a great mood!
So we joked around, we were gonna start a business, and offer “kitty therapy” as an alternate to counseling and medication.
After she retired, she started collecting cats, I think in the back of her mind she is at least creating a “kitty therapy” room for herself.
I want one, desperately. But I know Mr VOW would use his veto and shut it down.
~VOW
Doesn’t Japan have cafes where you can be snuggled by kitties? I could swear I’d heard something like that.
I have a problem eating and drinking food where Cats are all over the place. One floating hair and I’m done. The food service needs to be where germs and cat hairs are not permiating the near atmosphere. But other than that I like the Kitty cafe idea☺️
I attended a cat show years ago. The sponsoring club had a food area, so I grabbed a sandwich and some macaroni salad. Halfway through my macaroni salad I happened across a wad of white cat fur.
I’m not a germaphobe, but I still freak out thinking about it.
I’m sure I’ve swallowed 1000s of cat or dog hair.
But I didn’t see it. I probably have a pocket in my colon that is nothing but hairs.
Oh, man! I just grossed myself out.
(Then there’s 'possum hair)
My grandkids gave me a coffee cup that says “In this house, cat hair is a condiment.”
~VOW
Indeed.
We visited one in Osaka on our 2017 trip to Japan. The kitties were a little jaded, and not super cuddly, but amenable to petting and playing with us. And very enthusiastic when we bought and shared kitty treats.
There are cat cafes in the US, but unlike in Japan, they tend to be organized as adjuncts to cat adoption. Play with the kitties, meet your forever kitty and take care of the adoption all in one visit if you want.
Bad to the bone?
Never mind that crap, how about more news of Jojo, Bayliss, and any deserving others in the menagerie? Have you woken, for instance, with Jojo sleeping on your head? (Wouldn’t surprise me – all those critters absolutely wuvvv you! 
)
And may I remind you that this thread – as well as the renowned Pet Pictures thread – are very fine venues for posting pictures of Jojo (which, I might also remind you, have never been posted before) as well as other critter updates (* cough * Bayliss * cough *). 
Never leave the hospital riding a Boomarang.
I have pictures of all. I’m gonna make a group and send them soon. I promise.
Jojo is looking good. And of course Bayliss.
Those Australian movies giving you ideas, Mr. Fish man?
What model is The Orange Menace?
I think
You do, but to no avail!
Then there was George.
I was introduced to George at our local youth baseball fields. He was sitting on a pallet of Quick-Dry. As I walked over, he jumped down onto my shoe and started climbing up my leg. (yes, he was a squirrel - get your mind out of the gutter) I was a little freaked out, to say the least. Ran into the league president, and he introduced us properly, and told me how George introduced himself at the fields.
We think that someone had kept him as a pet and did one of those “we don’t want him any more, so we’ll just drive down to the park and drop him off there.” So, George had no fear of humans. There’s baseball games going on, and he didn’t care. He was climbing in and out of people’s bags, looking for food. Wandered out through a backstop, and climbed up the shorts of the umpire (insert “looking for nuts” joke here). And I thought I was freaked!
Sometime after that, our President found George, and George became his companion at the fields. He would curl up in Mr. Pres’s shirt pocket while he was grooming the fields. I have pictures of George on my shoulder eating peanuts. George was all right.
He was there the rest of the summer. I’d see him in an oak tree, and get him to come down by me for some pets and some peanuts. Unfortunately, don’t know what ever became of George. Never saw him after that fall.
Checking to make sure you’re still alive. No breath? I’ve got dinner!