I’ve told many of the crazy, amazing adventures of my sibling pair of Siamese cats.
Since all my threads end up being about cats anyway, I thought we needed a dedicated Cat antics thread.
Tell us a story about your extraordinary feline friend.
This oughta be great fun!
When I lived in the Swamp in Florida, Pippin (mayherestinpeace) would chase after any feathered biped he could. The only thing better than seeing a cat slinking toward a 4-foot tall ibis is watching an owl swoop through the back yard, being followed by someone who wouldn’t know what to do with it if he caught it.
Marbles, older and larger than when this was taken, was born in that same swamp 13 (maybe 14) years ago. He’s a sweet, loving punk-ass. He somehow knows when my alarm is about to go off, and will wake me ten minutes before by grabbing my nostril with a claw, and pulling. He’s a physicist as well, constantly testing the theory of gravity.
Swamp…your photos are not showing.
Kiki, my cool “laid back surfer cat” (alas, he lived during the ancient predigital era of the anthropocene, no photos amd I don’t have enough skill for cave art) would come when you called his name. His one funny little quirk was his vanity. He quickly learned that the sounds “Kiki your face is dirty” meant that his face was indeed dirty and would immediately stop whatever he was doing and clean up.
Bitty Brat, The Big Orange Cat (lived right on the cusp of the digital age, I have a blurry photo of him and his sire somewhere) was affectionate. When he decided he was going to groom you, his dedication to the task almost reached Annie Wilkes levels, you weren’t going anywhere until he was through (I shudder at the imaginings of him having a thumb and being just a tad bigger so he could use a small hammer)
That’s my Mikko, except he starts at 3:30 am. Then it’s game on! How long can I avoid his insistent and persistent paw? With a hungry cat, this can last a long time.
I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again…
Oh, hell. She knows.
Cute! My ‘Meeko’ is at this moment fussing with Brother ‘Bear’ over a stolen change purse. They like it for some odd reason, only they know.
Gato don’t YOU have a cat? I recall something about her…
Love it! How did you get him to do this? Hey, I know cats are clever but I assume there was some training involved. 
As for my cat Kenny, he does a few things that never cease to amuse me. I have a couch with an extension at one end, so I can stretch out and look directly at the TV. If I’m lying flat on my back, there is enough space down by my legs for him to lie down and also face the TV. Sometimes, though, he wants to lie by my chest and face away from the TV, but there isn’t enough space. So he will sit down facing me, and gently tap me on the stomach with his paw until I turn slightly to make room for him. The other is that at this point he will stand a few inches away from my chest, and just flop down in place. For whatever reason, sometimes he flops rather forcefully, as if he is trying to force me over even more so that he has enough room.
I had a cat named Puffy (long-haired grey and white) who was rescued at 6 months from an animal lab that was closed for various violations. She was a lovely cat. She came when I whistled, and played fetch. She was motherly towards our other cats, and loved cuddling. She also had strong opinions on how much petting she needed, and would catch your hand and nip it if you stopped too soon.
I’ve taught Bear a few tricks or behaviours. Early on I was teaching him to target my pointer finger with his nose. Nope wouldn’t have any part of it. I kept trying and one day he was getting frustrated at me. I would point my finger at him and he would meow in a snippy tone. Finally he stood up, I think 'oh, success ’ Nope. He took his paw and tapped my finger. We still do that every day. That has turned into head bumping my fist, putting my hand down flat and he sits and pointing at something and he looks at it. He’s taught himself alot of things. He’s brainy and likes to show off. Meeko is probably smarter but she’s not doing any stoopid tricks.
My cat, Toby, seemed to have an innate sense of time. I’d tell him every day when I would get home from work. He knew how long it would take for me to get home. Ten minutes before I got off from work, he’d start bitching at my mother. “Go get my brother NAOW!” And as soon as I got home, he showered me in his adorable, ever-gentle love. I miss him so much.
Its been a long time since I had cat, way before the digital age.
But I had an all-black cat named Herby and he was the King of the House. Very affectionate but he didn’t suffer any fools (ie dogs). One day I was letting him out through the garage and there was a beagle-esque dog getting into my garbage. Herby saw the dog, jumped on his back like a lion going after an antelope. The dog took off like a bat of hell and Herby rode him like a rodeo cowboy on a ornery bull. I am positive Herby made it the full 8 seconds before he was thrown off.
I never saw that beagle again.
Herby also like to play fetch with a rolled up piece of paper. But he would not bring the paper completely back to you. He would drop the paper just out of reach so you would have to make effort to get it.
At night he slept on my back as I sleep mostly on my stomach. I miss Herby.
No, no training, at least not intentionally. He was a grey and white tuxedo who liked to play and explore the filthiest most spider webby little nooks and crannies. He often had smudges of dirt on the end of his nose. One day his face looked like he dove face first into a pile of dust and I said the magic phrase and that was that. It worked even if his face wasn’t dirty.
I taught my Tina to play hug’n’bite* without the biting. She just holds me with all 4 paws and rubs her head on my hand/forearm while I pet/muss her belly. It’s adorable and fun for both of us.
*Some people may not be familiar with certain terms; here is a handy chart explaining things: The Many Standard Linney Formations.
Back in 2008, I was in the local shelter and spotted a solid black kitty with the most amazing blue-green eyes. He was already 7 years old, and had been in the shelter for several months. He was the favorite of all the shelter staff, who celebrated his adoption.
Paris was the Best. Cat. Ever. He was so smart and playful and affectionate… except with my other cat. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with her, except occasionally beating the crap out of her.
Life went on until about two years ago, when I notice that he’d lost a lot of weight and his abdomen was swollen. Turned out, he had cancer in several organs, starting with his pancreas. My vet referred my to an oncologist, who said chemo would keep him alive for a month, maybe two, plus I had to give him three pills a day. So he had the chemo, and suffered no ill effects from it. He was still as playful and affectionate as ever, and had no idea he was sick, so I brought him back a month later for more chemo. And a month later. Every time she saw him, the oncologist was amazed that he was still alive. Ultimately, the chemo kept him alive and happy for 11 months, until he finally succumbed to the cancer. I miss him every day.
The aforementioned Marbles has The Stinkiest Poops Ever. He’ll come out of the Poopatorium looking proud of himself. By the time my wife and I get a whiff, his brother Bowda’ar will have come into the area.
“Bo, can you please bury for your asshole brother?”
He looks at us with a surprisingly human teenaged look, and then goes in and buries. He’s a good son.
Pippin used to sneeze a fair bit, and of course, I’d always say “bless you!” One say I sneezed, and he looked at me and mewed, “raa-raow” in the same sing-song tone I use. Ever since then, he’d always meow if I sneezed or sniffled.
The sister Samhain, Queen of Tortietude, will get excited when certain traditional Irish songs are played (specifically “The Hills of Connemara”). She’ll run up for skritches, and poof her tail. Only cat I’ve ever met who goes full poof when happy.
If I sing along to a song I hear on tv or the stereo Bear meow-howls. Not sure if he’s impressed or grossed out. Hes saying ‘something’ I’m sure.
My last foster, Trooper a compact, solid black cat would bow his back up, like a halloween cat caricature, if I sang or sneezed or cleared my throat. Opinionated.