Apparently our new cat likes to play with toys while doing his litter box business. I uncovered a pile of cat toys buried in the litter this morning while scooping. This leaves open at least two possible explanations:
The cat is insane and may have started playing with dried cat poo by mistaking them for cat toys. This means there are probably chunks of poo sitting under cabinets and the washing machine.
The cat is intelligent and leaving a not-so-subtle criticism on the quality of cat toys he has been receiving lately.
It’s a given that all cats are quite insane but I’m still betting on option 2. When your watch and other small objects start disappearing you’ll know he’s seriously miffed at you but at least you’ll know where to find them.
All cats are insane. However, in this case, I’d say… if it’s a youthful cat, then the theory of “everything is a cat toy” applies. Older cat, then theory of “not pleased with litterbox cleanliness” comes into play.
I don’t know, I always like to read while on the john. As most cats can’t read, your guy may just be passing the time doing what he knows, playing with toys.
Well at least you know where to look for the cat toys when they have disappeared into the abyss with those socks from the dryer.
My cats have tons of toys but where they are is beyond me. I think they hide them on purpose so they can have an excuse to play with things that are not toys.
That’s why I clean out under my fridge and dryer every two weeks. We find dozens of marbles, a few plastic bottlecaps, 10 or more fuzzy mice…well, you get the picture.
As for the toys in the poop-box: is he a toy-tosser? they could end up landing in the box, and he ends up burying them as a side-effect of doing his business.
But I agree with lisacurl. All cats are insane.
btw: isn’t there some rule about having to post pictures of pets? c’mon now, don’t make me report you!
Ex. I had a phone call from a recruiter about a job today. It might be a great opportunity or it may just be ‘interview practice’. About 2 minutes into the call, my eldest cat (who is 15) comes in and starts yelling at me loudly. (It was loud enough that the recruiter commented, “Oh, you have a cat, huh?” “Ummm…yeah. So tell me more about the Operations side of your business model…”).
Then again, at least he’s stopped sitting in the corner crying (facing the corner; like a little boy who’s done something bad).
I think matt_mcl said “All cats are strange, even for cats.” Given that I have owned one cat that’s tried to take me down like a water buffalo* and one cat that’s sucked on my arms, I’m inclined to agree.
*(I stopped short, and the cat went from ‘ambush assault’ to ‘dancing on his two hind legs across my path’. It wouldn’t have been nearly as funny if his two front legs weren’t straight up in the air, and if he weren’t almost pure white and trying to blend into green foliage.)
The crying when you least expect it is what drives me insane, never mind the cat. My Bob can scare the crap out of me when it really quiet in the house.
I can be sitting there minding my own business and I get a sudden MREOOOOOOOOOOW.
He does that when he demands that his servant let him outside.
Of course I always do and as I am walking to the door I say “Yes dear, of course dear”
And since people are posting pics I guess I can’t resist showing off mine.
Gizmo She is my oldest at nine and is the Alpha Kitty. Rules the house with an Iron Paw.
Now we come to Bob. I admit he is my favorite and he just wuvs his meowmy, yes he does. He sleeps like this
And last but not least Smokey aka Beasty We just adopted him two weeks ago and boy what an addition he has been. He is front declawed and at times can be very aggressive. He has calmed down some what as the other cats are putting him in his place and letting him know he needs to act a little more like a gentleman. It is working so far. Those first few days were rough. If he had had claws we would have shredded to bits.
p.s. Beasty was not declawed by us. We do not believe in declawing. We adopted him that way and he is the only cat in our home that is declawed.
Nine cats and at least one dog, eh, SomeUserName? You might as well join up now - you’re in good company here. You can tell that you’re owned by cats by the curtain carefully pulled back so kitties can sit and stare out the window.
(I love Bob’s pose - half action hero, half soliloquy.)
I think he’s got a bat for an ancestor somewhere. Those ears!
Chalk my vote up for insane as that’s usually the case with cats. One of mine goes downstairs sometimes and just digs exuberantly. He slings about 1/2 lb of litter out of the box, does no business whatsoever, and then goes back upstairs. It’s so bad that I cut a long low cardboard box in half and put the litterbox inside it to catch the spillage. About once a week I tip all of the excavated litter back into the box.
The other cat has no litterbox antics but he will charge my office chair if I’m not sitting in it and leap onto the back and locks his claws. This produces the enjoyable effect of spinning him several times in a circle after which he drops back to the ground and goes on his way. Thank goodness it’s a very old chair.
When Lenny was little, I was watching TV and he tried to take me down. You know when cats grab a toy, do a somersault maneuver and then give it bunny-kicks? Well, Lenny got stuck at the grab-'n-somersault part.
I spent almost an entire half-hour TV show with a cat’s two front paws wrapped around my ankle as he dug his back feet into the carpet - Heeeeeeeeaaaave! Hoooooooo! - trying desperately with a lot of huffing and puffing, to throw me with his feline judo.
The whole size difference thing made no sense to him.
