I have become hopelessly agoraphobic, and spend all my time at home with my two cats. I have begun to take stock of the damage done to my home by their invincible cuteness. I thought it might be fun [or at least serve to alleviate somewhat my feelings of pathetic chump-dom] to read about other Dopers’ weaknesses when it comes to their furry [or scaly, or slimy] darlings. I want to hear about acts of malevolence your pets perform in such an endearing manner that you find yourself powerless to stop them, rendered immobile by the sheer force of adorableness.
Here’s my latest: I keep all of my underwear in the top drawer of my writing desk. My bedroom tends to be somewhat messy, and it is not unheard of for me to leave a dirty pair of undies on the floor for a day or two. I have also been exceedingly absent-minded as of late, and so the fact that I kept finding bras and such that I did not remember wearing recently on the floor did not strike me as too surprising: ‘So I forgot that I was wore that one this week. Whatever, it’s on the floor; it must be dirty. To the laundry basket it goes.’
But today, upon awakening from a nap, I witnessed the truth: Elixia, my girl kitty, was on my chair, tugging the underwear drawer open with an air of noble determination. She proceeded to empty it, methodically yet frantically, of every bra, garter, etc; flinging them all hurriedly to the floor. Upon completion, she jumped down and dashed out of the room, not even interested in playing with them. Undie liberation, it seems, was her sole concern.
Ok here is one - many moons ago my first rabbit (Sharon the wunderbunny) was pretty much free range (I tried enclosing her but she always managed to escape) and she LOVED me. Even bits of me which were detachable (read clothing, shoes etc…) and if she had the opportunity she would nick off with my stuff. One day I was getting changed to go out, I heard my ride knock on my door and call out so I said I would not be long. I was reaching for my bra when Sharon took off with it. I of course gave chase but it was not until I neared the end of my hallway that I twigged that A. I was half naked B. there was a person at my front door and C. That door was presently open - with the male person who was giving me a lift to bible study standing within. Two more steps. TWO more steps and unimaginable embarrassment was avoided. Lucky for her she was cute.
Ha! Thanks for sharing.
So you’re saying your cat is secretly a ballerina? https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-yy2itfDtPKY/Uqrkkl628uI/AAAAAAABZ2o/rrXrbOWboe8/s640/cats-cant-do-ballet-gif.gif
Yesterday my deaf cat, Trouble, did that cute thing where he fell asleep thinking about things. He was sitting there, just thinking, fell asleep, and sloooowly leaned further and further forward until his face was flat on the table. Slept like that for an hour until finally gravity took over and pulled him onto his side.
Our tortoiseshell Josie is a little devil. We don’t let her sleep with us very often, but when we do, she has a genius way of waking me up at 5am. She gently spikes my face with her claws, not hard enough to scratch but enough to scare the bejeezus out of me.
She hates tuna, turkey, chicken and other things most cats love. Instead she goes batshit for butter and chocolate (we don’t give them to her, but she stalks us if we’re eating them).
She likes to stand on the edge of the bathtub and watch me while I’m taking a shower. No particular reason for that one.
She likes UPS boxes so much that we actually put a blanket inside one. Now it’s her favorite place to sleep, despite the fact that she has about three different cat beds.
C&P from a previous thread:
where to begin…
my beloved, now-departed, murphy had a thing for my slippers. he was forever making off with the footwear, leaving me to hunt down where he’d hidden them.
years ago, i had a dog that used to like stealing my pantyhose. she was very proud of herself every time she accomplished it.
miss magnolia has utterly ruined two brand-new living room chairs. her big brother, turk, has helped.
miss widget ensures that i NEVER enter a bathroom unless i’m carefully supervised. the same goes for dinner preparations, working on my laptop, doing laundry, and applying make-up. she’s very dedicated.
My dearly departed Scooter, a male Pembroke Welsh Corgi who broke the mold by being stupid, fat, and lazy, loved to sleep by my feet. He’d settle in for a Scooter Bear snooze while I was online and just be happy as (and intelligent as) a clam. The problem was, he woke up disoriented as to time, place, and species: He went to sleep a barely-trained mammal and woke up a particularly grouchy alligator. His first impulse was to chomp, and the thing closest to him was my feet. I knew how Poke Salad Annie’s granny felt. Huh. Uh huh huh huh.
He didn’t stop with that, though. Oh no. He liked to sleep under beds, usually in such a way that he was partially under the bed but still visible as a stupid little bulge under the covers hanging off the edge. If your feet got close enough to the bulge to brush against it, he’d roll over and bite you before his brain had booted fully into mammal mode.
He’d always be very apologetic afterwards, his blank stare taking on a very hangdog expression. I still miss him.
Cosmo the cockatiel likes to sit on my arm and get his head feathers preened. When I need to move my arm, he wobbles, digging his sharp little claws in and sliding a bit. If he gets ignored long enough, he will lean forward and pluck an arm hair out with his beak.
Then he will duck his head and tilt it to one side to look at me with one eye, waiting for his scritches.
We moved the couch and found four of Cody’s Nylabones all chewed into perfect points on one end.
At the time, there were 5 of us in the house - 2 humans and 3 dogs (alas, we lost the old fella so there are only 4 of us now). We’re still not sure if he was planning to take us all out, or if our (frighteningly clever) female mutt-dog was pulling the strings.
At home, I haven’t gone to the bathroom without an attentive audience for the last, let me see, 17-1/2 years. That’s right, I go to the bathroom and all four cats will leave whatever they’re doing to come in, sit grouped around me, and watch. Attentively. It’s embarrassing. If the bathroom door would latch I could shut them out.
Oh yes and as long as I’m at it, the past two years I haven’t take a shower alone either. My oldest cat has decided he simply CANNOT let me in there alone. So he paws open the sliding door and climbs in, then gets up on the little step and watches me. I have to towel him off when the shower is over.
Never had a cat that liked a closed door. If they can open it they will. If not, sit patiently outside so that you trip over them.
Both torties like to drink out of the toilet and hang out between the shower curtains when we bathe.
The first tortie, the best tortie, was not destructive except for the first toy I bought. Had two cats, the other was a gray tabby. The toy was a bird at the end of an elastic string that hung in the doorway. The tortie, not yet even 4lbs could jump the three feet up to the bird and grab it. The slightly older, 10lb tabby could not. A few days after buying the toy, I woke to find the detached bird beside me in bed. I reattached the bird and every morning would find it beside me.
She was always near me except when the Hubby was cooking. Then she would hang out in the kitchen, not under foot, but from a vantage point to watch his every move. Bonus, she got to try everything he made. She’d eat things other cats I’ve had would never touch. Had her favorites, chocolate pudding and black cherry yogurt. Only allowed a few licks of the spoon.
And cats are nocturnal. After we moved back to the states she would jump on the bed and claw at the covers as if wanting under, wanting to be petted. I got tired of it and pull her down against me and pinned, her occasionally petting her. Apparently she came to like it. Around 11 pm, bedtime, she would go sit at the bedroom door. When we settled in to sleep she would come in and I would hold the covers up and she would crawl under and spoon against me and go to sleep. It was like sleeping with a baby in the bed. I was always aware that she was there and when I would change positions, I would put my hand on her to let her know she didn’t need to move and all was well.
Damn I miss that cat. I could go on and on about her. She died young. Luckily she sometimes strolls through my dreams to say hello.
Here is Maggie. She is so adorable but she hates her picture taken. I recently moved out of my home state and my family often asks for pictures. I will pick up my phone and aim the camera at her and she immediately jumps up and leaves the room, runs around so I can’t get a good picture, or turns away from me and ignores my calls to turn around. I tricked her with calling out “want a bone?” And she would look at me, but after 3 or 4 times, that stopped working. I tried “wanna go bye bye?” And she caught on after a few times. Most pictures are now of her sleeping or the side of her face.
Impy the rabbit looooves to groom my legs. If I do not keep them shaved this involves occasionally pulling out a hair.
One of my former bunnys lived in the bathroom. He liked the toilet and you had to leave the lid down. (he also liked the bath and would come flying into it at 100 miles an house. Scratches ensued if I was having a bath at the time. Anyway back to the toilet, he um quite liked to see what was happening in the toilet while it was being used ifyouknowwhatImean… so it was best to keep your knees together and even then he would try the sides. I always warned folks or removed him when I had visitors. Except one day… The person in question was a rather prim and proper older lady from my church. I can still hear the scream.
Maybe you should let her out.
All these stories cheered me up immensely. Thanks.
It’s all those Oz reruns Cody was watching, I bet…
My cat Cleo is a maladroit little devil. She regularly misjudges the distance between bed and desk, floor and table, etc, so that when she attempts a jump, she usually wipes out. Worst sense of cat coordination on the planet. She doesn’t do much damage, but a couple weeks ago she was estimating the distance between bed and desk (where I was sitting with my coffee and a copy of galleys I was proofing. Yes, galleys, and only one copy and you can see where this is going).
Cleo jumped and of course fell short but she knocked the coffee cup over and my galleys got soaked.
As troublesome as it seems, I just can’t get mad at her or any of my animals. Even when they really mess up.