I came home the other day to find that the cat had gotten into the garbage again. Not a big deal since he knows how to knock off the lid. However, he didn’t knock the can over or take any food. Instead he apparently went to the coupon flyer that came in the mail, removed one page and carefully laid it on the floor. The frightening thing is that it was the PetCo ad. Apparently, he would like me to use their $5 off coupon. I’m not sure yet what he wants me to buy. I am awaiting further orders.
That is wise.
Welcome to the club.
My cat tries to give me orders by screaming at me. I can’t understand what he wants (unless he is screaming in the bathroom, which means “Hey, turn on the faucet!”) and that obviously frustrates him. He is probably saying, “Hey, feed me again!” or “Hey, move over and make room in the bed for me!” but all I can hear is, “Hey, I’m screaming! Listen to me scream!”
My cat positions herself next to whatever she wants to communicate with me about. So if her food bowl is empty – gasp! – she sits next to it, looks at me, meows, looks at the bowl, looks at me, meows…she’s very good at getting her point across.
Psycobunny’s cat is taking a particular coupon from the trash and arranging it for s/he to find.
The next step will be, written with chalk on the kitchen floor, “You have to sleep sometime.”
This is far, far more than meowing.
Bring out the Scrabble tiles and see what happens.
Boris just knocks what he wants on the floor. Then I have to pick it up and feed him. Treats, dry or canned. He decides.
Our cat isn’t always that direct, but he can be. His regular MO is to come up and sit on my lap, let me scratch his ears for a while and then jump down and lead me to what he wants. I’m not entirely sure if it’s manipulation or if he simply believes in quid pro quo.
He’s sending me a signal…yes, yes…he wants canned tuna and/or catnip. Or maybe it’s tuna-flavored catnip. Or catnip scented tuna. No, I have it now, it’s canned tuna, seasoned with catnip!
Gonzomax-my baby is Boris too! I’m just a little worried that he has apparently learned how to read.
This may help you. Be careful though, if he gets wise to the fact that you understand but you’re not doing what he says he may try tricks, the only counter is to confront them with one of the few things they cannot do.
I always thought the cliche of a cat hearing a can opener was just a stereotype or only pertained to motorized can openers. Until Jasmine came along. She can be dead asleep in the other room, and if I use the hand crank can opener she will storm into the kitchen to make sure whatever I’m opening is wet catfood. It never is. But she checks every time just to make sure!
That’s just silly.
Use a Ouija board.
Think your cat is demanding now? Just wait until he is old enough to drive.
One day I came home from work to find one tiny corner of the kitty treat bag on the carpet. Nothing else was out of place. The treats are kept in the cupboard above the kitchen counter. After some sleuthing I determined that my kitten had jumped on the counter, opened the cupboard door, pulled out both bags of treaties, jumped them onto the floor, opened them, ate all the treaties then stashed the empty bags under my bed.
Intelligent and crafty rolled into a cute ball of fur. Watch out for those guys.
Wet catfood is more properly referred to as gooshyfood.
My cats also check to see if I’m opening a can of tuna, because I drain the water from the can and give it to them. Their cat food cans, on the other hand, have pull-ring tops. They can STILL hear these cans being opened, despite the fact that I don’t need a can opener to get to the gooshyfood.
My cat has figured out the mirror in my mom’s bedroom. Mom and I often hang out there, watching tv. The door is closed, because Dad is watching Fox News with the volume turned all the way up (he’s mostly deaf). So, if the cat wants out, she’s learned to stand in front of the door, and use the mirror to look at me while she meows to be let out.
It’s pretty amazing, actually. Thank Og she’s too lazy to be interested in world domination.
Dennis figured out that the latch opened the screen door.
I was in the living room watching tv, the door to my left. Dennis was sitting on the porch railing and I couldn’t see him. I saw movement from the corner of my eye, and looked towards the door. A tiny, orange arm moved into sight and began pounding on the latch. I though the Martians were attacking for a moment.