Duffy digs to China.
He’ll sit there in his litterbox and dig and dig and dig, even after whatever he just did is covered.
Entertains him for hours on end.
Shae, on the other hand, rolls over and lets you rub her belly, but only as long as she wants you to. With no warning, not even a flick of her pretty white tail, BAM, :smack: she smacks your hand.
At least she’s honoring our request for her to not use her claws.
Forgot Dawns new and not so wonderful habit of crawling into the bed with me at night just so she can chew on my elbow. Grrr she is going to loose that very quickly.
I have a whole stack of printouts sitting by my printer. They are all the print test page. There are 6 or 7 of them.
One of my cats printed them out. Every few days he goes over and pushes the button and watches the fancy paper come out of the big machine.
Willow keeps tab of every single bird that passes by the window. She often yells at them if they do something she doesn’t approve of.
She loves boxes and bags, and will spend hours running in and out of cardboard boxes and paper bags.
She digs and digs and digs…and when she’s done digging, she scratches the walls by the litter box. One day I walked into the litterbox room and there was cat crap all over the wall. :rolleyes:
Tara talks to us. She loves to talk, and she’s absolutely thrilled when I respond. I’ve never had a cat who talked so much! My husband doesn’t think it’s very cute, but I think it’s adorable.
She also spends a great deal of time antagonizing and chasing Willow—though Willow gives as good as she gets.
Kiku-san’s best trick is looking adorable in order that she might lure some clueless human into attempting to pet her. Once they are in range, she strikes!
Not actually my cat - is one of the many alley cats that roam around, but I tried to tame her. So she is tame as far as I’m concerned, but totally wild and doesn’t stay in my flat or anything - yowls to be let out if I try and it’s first floor so catflap not a possibility 
Want to get her to vet, but she’s so intermittent in her visits that’s it’s impossible to book an appointment. Also - now she’s just had these kittens - I daren’t “kidnap” her in case they’re left defenceless (whereever the hell she’s got them) for too long. I was hoping she’d become totally tame and have them in my flat, and I’d get them all spayed, but it didn’t happen - she went even more feral after the birth.
Mud:
is the official furniture tester. I just brought in a new computer chair and have not sat in it yet. Mud has been curled up in it everytime I want to use it, and was so when I left for work this morning.
is the bathroom water inspector. She will sit and watch me while I am using the toilet, taking a shower, or washing my hands, anything that involves running water. She has, however, vociferously refused my invitation to experiment with the running water.
is the official lizard catcher. She will bring me dead and half-dead lizards that have wandered into the house. Only brought me two frogs so far, but I really think she is hiding those somewhere (urk).
My older cat, Molly, likes to play with those clear caps on the top of water bottles. She has a stash of them somewhere, we think. At night, starting at about 9:00, she’ll go get one, and start meowing very loudly in the hallway. One of us has to get up and toss it for her in order for her to be quiet…until she starts up again.
My younger cat, Sneakers, likes to play fetch. He has dozens of those little fur mice cat toys, and if I toss one for him, he will go get it, pick it up in his mouth, and bring it back to me, most of the time dropping it right in my hand. I saw a cat that did that once on ‘America’s Funniest Videos’, but of course it couldn’t do it nearly as well as my Sneakers. 
Sneakers will also find one single spot of the carpet–in some out of the way place that hasn’t been stained or anything like that–and just stare. About five minutes later he starts clawing up the carpet right there, in that exact spot. I wonder what he smells/sees there that we don’t.
A week ago I was housesitting two cats for neighbors on vacation. The cats were Milo, their boy, and Butterscotch, their girl. Butterscotch reacted badly to the separation and hissed at or ignored me the entire time (I’m not sure if she even ate during that time, or just stayed in the one position I always found her in), but Milo was a crackup. We instantly bonded; either that or he loves everyone he meets.
After he got to know me, which took about…let’s see…five minutes, he followed me everywhere. When he walked, he would stretch. He wouldn’t stop to stretch–he would just stretch as he was walking. If I looked at him while he was stretching, he would collapse next to a wall 'till I petted him. And if I called “Milo!” from another room, he would come galloping into the room, collapsing at my feet. What a weird cat, but a funny one.
DAVEW0071, speaking of cats protecting from evil influences, there’s a short story I read in an anthology a while ago that concerned a cat who, at night, would unravel yarn and create an intricate mess of it in a lady’s front room. What the lady failed to realize (until she finally managed to get the yarn to a place the cat couldn’t get it) was that the cat had been trapping a demon in the room with the yarn. Spooky.
Oh, and one more Sneakers story (I know, the post is long…) He likes round bowls or boxes. If he sees one, he immediately jumps in, sitting or laying there, even if he can’t fit. We have one black wire/metal bowl that we leave on the coffee table just for him, and he loves it. He used to have ceramic bowls that he’d get in, but he broke two of them by jumping in them after getting a running start and causing them to fly off the table. 
Frisco likes to use his voice. He’ll speak for no real reason, and he’ll make every kind of vocalization sound a cat can: trills, yowls, meows, and so on. Occasionally, they do serve a purpose (for example, “feed me”), but mostly, he meows at the wall. We have no idea why he speaks to the wall.
Denver is another hairpin player. He’s got bobby pins all around the house, and we are forever finding them whenever we move rugs and furniture for cleaning.
Annie has regular duties (supervisor of food service, for example), but for fun, she just seems to enjoy batting at Frisco and Denver from my computer chair as they walk by.
Our newest addition, Shiloh, is just a kitten, so most of her time is spent eating, sleeping, and playing with all the cat toys we have. She is, however, developing an interest in television–she has watched a few programs lately, and caught some of the US Open golf tournament yesterday. We figure she is following her favourite player: “Tiger” Woods.
Ben is a chronic sock stealer. He likes to take them out of my room, into the living room, and sit with them. He keeps one end in his mouth, making a weird 'mwrowl" noise, then he starts pawing at the sock. I can only assume he’s trying to get rid of the Evil Sock Demon. He likes to chew on plastic grocery bags in his spare time. Doesn’t eat them, just punches holes with his teeth. He’s also an avid collector of french fries, as I find them every time I vaccuum. Where he gets 'em, I don’t know. He loves bottle caps, and hair bands. (The elastic kind.) He will take a hair band, toss it up in the air with his mouth, then catch it with his front paws. Hours of entertainment, I tell ya.
Gomez is Action Kitty. He loves to run, jump, and climb. He collects bottlecaps, roaches, and tennis balls. He meows, constantly. I can only guess that he’s either singing or doing Shakespearean sonnets.
DeLuca is The Kitty Who Should Work In A Haunted House. Her hobbies include waiting until one of the other cats is comfortable and near sleep, then she SMACKS them and SCREAMS! She also likes to hide under the pool table and shriek when people/cats walk by. She could do wonders touring with a carnival. She is our border kitty, because her owner will be coming back from Spain in a month.
Phoenix and Capella stay upstairs. They are quite content to stay away from the Weirdo Kitties Downstairs. They like to turn over plants and turn on the pottery wheel when no one is home. I’ve come home four times and found the wheel on. I guess they want to learn to make pots, or they re-create the scene from “Ghost” when we’re not there.
Well, I wouldn’t call it a hobby, more of a religious calling. Any small object within 1 or 2 inches of the edge of a table, shelf, chair, counter, etc. must be batted down onto the floor. Not so she can play with it, mind you. She just knocks an object down, carefully inspects it, and, satisfied that it has been relieved of all its excess potential energy, wanders off. We call it “serving Gravity.” Tthe Goddess of Gravity is pleased when things fall down, and the cat is Her loyal servant.
The Fat One
Main hobby: Flushing the toilet. Repeatedly. At all hours of the day or night.
Secondary hobby: Wiping all left over water droplets in the bathtub toward the drain until the tub is dry.
Max:
Any invading object that shows a speck of life (dust bunny, ant, etc.) must be vigorously tackled and eaten with loud meows.
New paperback books must be personally inspected and embossed by His Highness. Embossing is done by firmly gripping a corner of the cover in his mouth and chomping down. Presto, two neat teeth marks.
Also, Official Food Taster: at least one mouthful of items coming out of the kitchen. But no dipping his mouth onto the plate–this kitty dips his paw in and then licks food off. Vegetable soup is a special favorite (actually, anything involving tomatoes).
He seems to have a calling as a newspaper censor. If I’m not careful with where I put down the newspaper, he will often remove entire articles with his teeth or claws. Particular targets seem to be the front page and business sections. However, if someone pushes a particularly heinous article his way and says “Look at those Republicans!” he will also shred the life out of it.
Bart yowls. I really think this cat understands acoustics. He goes to the top of the stairs and yowls, causing the sound to echo down the stairway and annoy everyone in the house. He never seems to want anything, just does it to be a pest, I guess.
Maggie licks – other cats, briefcases, grocery bags, people, footstools, whatever. She’s very determined about it, too. She likes to lick Mr. Ben’s head when his hair gets long (for him – USMC crew cut) and cannot be distracted. If he pulls away, she’ll lick the air until she moves close enough to reach him again.
The Old Lady Kitty is our only good child. She’s somewhere between 9 and 90 and just sleeps and supervises her domain from her permanent location on the couch.
Fluffy used to have an advice column for felines, until tripod screwed it up. She’s been too lazy to figure out how to fix it.
http://downloads.members.tripod.com/~joker49/fluffy.htm