My cat Shadow would do something similar. I had a waterbed with a mirrored headboard (shelves and all that) that he liked to sleep on top of. He normally started out the night sleeping with me and then wandering off to do those mysterious nighttime cat things. Then he would come back and decide it was sleep on the headboard time, and use my torso as his springboard to make the 3ish foot leap.
Not so much stomach as full bladder, first thing in the morning.
Then they have the temerity to start wailing for breakfast.
In opposision to the OP…well, I have to say it because I’ve been so impressed recently…my cat is about 14…what is that, like 85 in human years? Has a thyroid condition, and more to the point, starting last month, due to an infection has ONE EYE. And can still make the three foot leap (can you leap three feet straight up?) on to the sofa arm. Accuratly. Without depth perception.
Grace and coordination thy name is Catherine Bastet (my cat’s name)
(That said I can’t say I haven’t seen my share of cats rolling off furniture, or walking off when they think the newspaper is more of the table, and doing the “I meant to do that” thing 
) (And then there’s Charlie my other cat who runs headlong into the plateglass window after the birds at the bird feeder…over and over again. But I blame that on his being male 
)
I once lived in an apartment where my girl, Killer*, had 4 kittens. My adult male, Spot[sup]#[/sup] would play chase with the kittens through the three rooms.
One day I had occasion to meet my downstairs neighbor, Her first question, when she found I lived above her was, “Do you have several really big dogs?” I had to bring her up to meet the crowd before she’d believe me! She adopted one of the kittens.
- Killer was a 4 pound streak of pregnant black lightning when I rescued her.
#Spot was a giant, Appleheaded Siamese, who thought he was 12 weeks old his whole life.
I think it’s in the manual that humans have to be part of the race after a certain hour of the night. Even if it means they become part of the track.
I thought they were 4 inch spike heels.
You’ll never find them. They stash their important stuff in another dimension. It’s where they go to hide when it’s time for a vet visit or a bath too.How else do you explain where that cat toy that’s been missing for two years suddenly shows up again?
I had an absolutely beautiful shaded silver persian, named Lillith who would fall off the same window sill everyday. It was just a little too narrow for her, but she loved sitting in the sun. She’d hang on until she just couldn’t keep her eyes open another second. Her head would bob once or twice, then CRASH! Then, she’d dantily prance from behind the sofa (yes, she could have sat on the sofa back in the sun :dubious: ) Telling the world it was her afternoon entertainment to crash-land on the floor.
My less-than-coordinated cat Fatboy would somehow manage to climb up on top of things and then get himself stuck. He woke me up once at 2 AM, yowling loudly for help because he’d made it to the top of the very tall china cabinet and couldn’t figure out how to get down again. It’s a good thing he was an indoor cat and didn’t have access to scary tall things like trees.
You know when comic artists just give up trying to express the noise a person makes and just represent it as !!! ? That’s the noise.
Heh, I just got to watch feline “grace” in action a few minutes ago. Mama cat was on the couch near my feet, two of the kittens were near their food dish, and the third kitten was in the kitchen. I heard what sounded like something being caught in my PC fan. I got up to see what was causing it (to make sure a kitten hadn’t crawled into the open side again), this caused mama to change her position, that didn’t work so well, so she dropped to the floor right as I was stepping closeby. She startled a little, and the kittens positively freaked. Two of them jumped into their food dish, and the third one went leaping off in the kitchen heading for parts unknown.
I have three cats in my house, all black. It just kind of happened that way. Anyway, the biggest one (We call him Sid, short for Obsidian) is mine and he is very skittish. Any time that they’re all lazing around in semi close proximity to each other and say the phone rings and you move a little too quickly, or someone is to knock on the door. Sid will get spooked (or whatever) and just book it. This of course thoroughly freaks out the other two and they all scatter in random directions. One invariably goes flying straight into a wall, or one will try to pivot off the woodwork on one of the door frames and slide off onto they’re side. Yeah, this is a daily occurance.
In this case, would less be more?
Meooooow. I meant to do that. 
What is it with kittens having 20-pound concrete paws when they race around? I swear, kittens running are twice as loud as adult cats.
We used to have a large fish tank. The top of it was about 4 ½’ off the floor. One of our cats loved to sit on the lights that were on top of that tank. (Mmmmm, warm AND smells like fish). Anyway, one time we were cleaning the fish tank, and had all the lights and hoods off of it. We were in the bathroom cleaning stuff, when we hear (Sploosh) “MREOW!!” (Scrabble) (Scrabble) (Skitter) (drip, drip, drip). Afraid of what we would find, we heading back to the fish tank. Sure enough, Yarbro, the 15# cat, had tried to jump to his favorite perch, and ended up in the tank. We found the cat, who was wet except for his head, and then cleaned the water off the ceiling over the tank.
Pixel is normally a graceful cat. He’s young and strong and a remarkable jumper. But once I heard a weird sound coming from the bathroom and went to investigate. He was straddling the towel rack above the toilet and the weird sound was his front paws on the wall as he tried using them to pull himself up so he could get his back feet on the bar.
Hazel is a chubby little thing. One time a bird landed on the sill outside the window over the fireplace, and Hazel got so excited that she tried to get up on the mantel. She hung onto the edge of the mantel with her front paws while frantically swinging her body side to side so she could get her back paws up there too.
And another Pixel one: Mr. m was sitting on the floor, refilling their dry food bin and their dishes. I did something that startled Pixel just as he was walking over to get some food, so he jumped, slamming into Mr. m and knocking the food bowl out of his hand. Then he tried to run, but the kibble all over the floor was making him slip, so he ran in place about five times before finally bolting out of the room.
My husband had a Modern Dance class in college. One day they were doing some exercises where the teacher would tell the class to “move like a cloud” or “grow like a tree”. It was pretty predictable until she told them to move “like a cat”. In a room full of dancers slinking and leaping, he took 5 heavy steps and collapsed on his side with a huge thump like projectile roadkill. He got an A for that day. His 23 pound Mo-cat was probably very proud.
Dirtbag was sudden death on 4 paws to any cat toys (or clear marbles) the house had to offer. He enjoyed sitting on window sills, but never slept there: the house had wide eaves covering a wrap-around deck so there were no convenient sun-warmed sills downstairs.
His windowsill duty compelled him to watch the suspicious activities of anything warm, fuzzy, and fast-moving that happened to be around outside. When the Venetian blinds were raised, he would sit there for hours, tail a-twitch.
Of course, when the blinds were raised, the cord was pulled all the way down: and it was a cord of two strands, knotted together at the end and woven through some kind of adjustable buckle so you could change the length of the spare cord.
In pursuit of something from window to window, Dirtbag once turned and took a mighty leap through the Venetian blind cord and instantly did an impression of the dog from the Foghorn Leghorn cartoons, catching his neck in the two strands and making his whole body swing away from the window.
He kicked frantically to get himself un-clotheslined, and fell ignominiously on his back. Clunk.
He meant to do that.