I was standing at the kitchen counter making some coffee, when I felt tiny hands on my butt. This is the cat’s way of saying *“Excuse me Mother, but if you would be so kind as to give me a morsel of whatever it is you’re preparing, I’d be ever so grateful.” *He usually just raises up, lightly pats my butt, then sits back down.
But today he combined it with his morning stretch, so the claws came out.
He inadvertently grabbed a handful of my shorts, and got his claws hung. He pulled and tugged and down they went.
At this point, I’m yelling at him, his claws are still hung, and he’s freaking. Meanwhile, I spilled the non-dairy creamer I was holding, and it landed on the cat.
The dog, who has built-in radar for fallen food, shows up and starts licking the creamer off the cat, while I’m trying to untangle the cat and myself from my shorts.
Then my son came in to see what all the commotion was about, and was very helpful by saying " Mama! Pull up your pants!"
I told him the cat’s claws were hung in them. So he reaches out to help me. The dog, in the midst of his non-dairy creamer bliss, registers arms reaching to take his food source away, and emmits a low growl. My son, decides it’s too much for him and retreats to the other side of the room. I finally managed to grab the cat’s arm and pull him forward enough to unhook his claws.
Now, the cat is hiding under the bed and my coffee is cold.
You know, just the title made me laugh, but the sheer number of consequential events has me nearly crying.
I used to have a kitten that would bat at the drawstring of my pajama pants. Every now and then, her claws would get stuck, and one night I decided to stand up, and see what would happen in the great Cat vs. Pants showdown.
Cats don’t seem to have much respect for human modesty.
Once while I was talking to the UPS man at the front door, one of my cats leaped onto me from a nearby bookcase. I think she meant to land on my shoulder, but she missed and hooked her claws into the dirndl blouse that I was wearing. The weight of the cat dragged the blouse down to my waist, leaving me standing there looking like a model from a Victoria’s Secret catalog (only a lot older).
Cats have amazing reach for their size. If you’re not used to living with them you’d be surprised just how tall they can make themselves when trying to reach things on countertops. They seem to possess an ability to make their mass contort into whatever form it was they needed for convenient stretching/hiding in tiny spaces/jumping ridiculous heights.
Or, horizontally speaking, when they’re stretched out during a nap. I invariably sing out “LONG-kitty!” when I see the Fuzzy Black Tube-O-Feline extended Superman-style someplace.
Jesper Kitty does that same stretch up against the side of the counter when I’m preparing food. He stretches all the way up so his paws come almost to the top of the counter and stands there until I pet him on top of the head or he realizes I’m ignoring him. That’s how he knows if what I’m preparing is for him.
I’m trying to break Peepers of the habit of launching herself at my right shoulder.
It was fine and cute when she was all of 8 oz., but she’s about 2 lbs right now with sharp little claws. :eek:
