Cleo horks, then jumps about six feet straight up. Horks again, then runs off.
The dogs usually clean it up before the humans even see it. Most of the time, all the evidence there is, is a little damp spot you don’t even see until you put your foot down on it. Then again, we now have six cats so our family is not too fussed with cleanliness.
One of my cats was a horker. He scared the bejeezus out of me one day when he puked up a lot of pinkish red stomach fluid and something red that looked like an internal organ. I was sure he had just had some kind of awful internal rupture, except that he looked perfectly at peace with the world and not at all like he was dying. So (much against my better judgment) I took a closer look at the hork pile. It was a dyed red feather he had chewed off a toy and regurgitated. Stupid cats.
Our sweet, stupid Isadora has an uncontrollable urge to eat anything that vaguely resembles string. She has trained us to make sure that all string-like things are carefully hidden away (and I’m a knitter, so this takes some doing), but every once in awhile we miss something. Last night, as I was sorting the laundry, she discovered the drawstrings on my pajama pants.
And like clockwork, this morning as the fiancé and I are working from home on our respective laptops, we hear her distinctive “hak hak hak.”
The fiancé, wanting to get her into the bathroom, gets up and starts towards her. She panics and runs off, hacking all the way. So, now instead of a pile of chewed-up drawstrings on the office floor, there’s a pile of chewed-up drawstrings under our bed. Beautiful. :smack:
(And yes, on the rare occasion that she gets a hold of string we watch her very carefully. Our vet knows all about her string predilection, and we know what to watch for to make sure everything passes smoothly.)
Two cats. One used to be a serial horker until I finally found the right cat food. Sadly, it’s one of the expensive ones, but I’ll pay the difference to keep from dealing with the horks.
One or the other will still do it every once in awhile, but I’m glad that it’s no longer a regular thing. Oh, and the ex-horker packed on the pounds as soon his digestion settled down. He was obviously loving the difference, too.
. . . the high-altitude glurk. :eek:
My attention was drawn to the fact that there had been a while-I-was-at-work glurk by the fact that when I got home the dog did not want out, she desperately wanted into the dining room. So after having booted the dog outside, I began to search. Not quite swinging from the chandelierr, but that cat climbed the very highest point in the dining room - the almost ceiling high bookcase - before returning breakfast. I would like to know how 1/4 cup of dry cat crunchies can increase in volume by that much.
She has to slow down or at least take a breath while she is eating.
My cat is a stealth horker. I’ve never seen or heard him, but every so often I find hairballs under the dining room table.
My last cat was a deadly weapon.
Hurk, hurk, hurkkkkk…FART!
Well, if she’s that bad about eating fast you may have to look for a special feeding dish or get some nice clean rocks that are way too big for the cat to eat and put them in her food dish so she will have to eat around them and it will take her longer to eat.
Five cats, one puker. We refer to her as “The Pump”. She horked up a wet one right next to Mr. K’s head while he slept this morning. Fucking disgusting.
That makes me laugh. Pics?
Hey, I found the hairball! It was on the windowsill.
With my cats, if you try to move them to the kitchen they stop and save it for later.
That is a perfect rendition of the sound I hear before a barf!
Joe
I awoke one night to the sound of one of the cats horking, so I leaped out of bed hoping to get some paper under him first. And of course I put my bare foot squarely down in the middle of the hork, either the one I’d heard or an earlier one I hadn’t awakened for.
I think it was Eve who said once that if she was believed to be brain dead, a la Terry Schiavo, all you had to do to be sure was to bring a horking cat into the room. If she didn’t immediately leap off the bed and exclaim “not on the carpet, not on the carpet!”, then she was gone.
nod the naughty has a special vocalization before she’s sick.
one of her nicknames is: “the regurgitator” austrian accented, of course.
Yes, I have one glurker and one that never glurks. PJ just has an easily upset stomach. He doesn’t eat fast. Sometimes he lets out a loud rororooowww before he starts glurking but usualy the glurks are the first we hear. Last night he walked into the cabinet that his catfood is kept in. I thought it would be fun to close the door on him. He can’t get at the food and it’s an easy door to open, but he hasn’t figured it out. I guess it was too much stress for him, because five minutes later we hear “glurk glurk glurk” coming from the cabinet. My fault I guess.