(This is Stacy, affectionately known as “cranky old bitch” most days.)
Grrr.
I woke up this morning to cat claws on my arm. Apparently, Her Royal Highness was hungry and was going to waste away and die (all 13 pounds of her!) if she did not get fed within the next five minutes. As I walked through the house, I noticed the “gift” of kitty-vlork which she had so generously shared with me on the living room carpet. (For some unknown reason, Maya didn’t take care of it for me today.) sigh I hate cleaning up vomit. Of course, there’s still food left in her bowl when I get there, but it wasn’t “fresh enough” or something.
Later, HRH wasn’t content with occasional pettings being rained down on her from the computer chair. No no no - she had to jump up on the desk to put her fat stinky chocolate starfish right in my face and demand the proper level of respect and love. (It really is stinky - she doesn’t get her anal glands cleaned out well, so I have to do it for her every couple of weeks and she’s due for a butt-squeeze.) It’s kind of hard to pet a kitty when you’re mousing with one hand and holding 14 pounds of squirmy baby in the other.
Now, for the past hour, she has been sitting at the patio door crying piteously to be let out. The problem with that is that it’s pouring down rain. I have opened the door and pushed her out so that she can see just what lovely weather she’s missing by being inside, but five minutes later, she’s back at the door wanting out again.
Thankfully, she seems to have given up on her begging is peacefully curled up. In my empty suitcase.
I’ve often been thankful that domestic animals can not speak. Imagine the endless babble you’d have to endure from a golden retriever! But cats…I dunno, if we could limit them to like 50 words a day, just so we’d know what in the hell they really want from time to time. That woudn’t be so bad.
Hmm…aside from the anal gland thing and the fact that Stacy has about 6 pounds on her, you seem to have a Mimi problem. Mimi spent the morning leaping & sliding on the bedspread (silk, so it’s like a cat Slip 'n Slide) until she was fed & cuddled. She was later found sleeping soundly - also in my empty old suitcase.
Unfortunately, the only thing you can do about cats like these is treat them like the royalty they are.
Heh … sorry. Shows you how used to inspecting my cat’s rectum I’ve gotten over the past two years! I didn’t even think that someone would find that gross.
Bunny, Buffy, Speedbump, and the Mighty Gelatinous Cacophony have awakened me on occasion with the yowling and pawing at my sleeping face that normally signals “the food dispenser is empty.”
…whereupon I rouse myself and go to fill the thing, only to discover that the dispenser is not empty; the reason they’re all bent out of shape is that Ittotat has vlorked in the food dish.
My kitty also has the anal gland problem. He gets all bent out of shape when I clean them but it never occurs to him to clean them himself. He is always adorable, except every morning at 4:10 am when he scratches on the bedroom door to get in. Damn cat interrupting my slumber.
After reading about the way all your cats wake you up for food, I just realised how smart my cat is. When we first got her, she did the whole meow-at-you-until-you-wake-up-and-feed-me thing. She eventually learned that excessive meowing didn’t earn her food, but rather a “Quiet!!!” and kicked out of the bedroom where she would meow but remain unheard. Thank goodness for thick doors!
So, the meowing stopped, but she’s learned when my normal wake-up time is, and often, as soon as my feet hit the floor, she meows her head off, as if to say “Yes, food dispenser is finally up! Time for my feeding! Hurry up!” After realising that the excessive meowing while I’m awake is almost as annoying as her waking me up from my sleep, I would wait a while before feeding her. She eventually learned that no matter how much she meowed after I woke up, I was going to feed her when it was convenient for me. Like after I had taken a shower and brushed my teeth, I would feed her just before I sat down for breakfast so she learned that she could eat when I did.
She did learn something that I didn’t reinforce. During the night, she usually sleeps in the catpost next to her bed. Lately, about an hour before I wake up, she sleeps on me. I mean literally on me. If I’m lying on my back, she sleeps on my chest, and vice versa. If I’m lying on my side, she’s small enough to balance herself and lie on me. I figure this was a pretty good method of her trying to get food. By lying on top of me, she is making me uncomfortable enough to shift around and possibly wake up as a result. If I’m about to wake up anyway, I might wake up an hour to half an hour earlier, and therefore be able to feed her earlier. If I am really that tired and don’t want to get up, her presence doesn’t disturb me and she can snuggle until I wake up.
My dog, Polaris, has two of these tricks. I only know about the ones she does to my husband because I’ve seen them-- he’s never seen her do anything like this to me.
If she wants him to wake up, she lightly jumps up on the bed and freezes for a moment. She can tell by the change in his breathing that it disturbed him. She waits until he starts snoring again before creeping up. She looks like a lion of the Serengheti as she hunch-slinks her way up to his chest. She lays down gingerly beside him and puts her head on the pillow next to his. She waits for a moment and then her tongue darts out and licks his ear very quickly. Hubby snorts and she freezes, barely breathing until she can tell he’s drifted off again. Out flies her tongue, giving his cheek a quick lash. Hubby twitches and grunts irritably, then settles back down but he doesn’t start to snore again-- no, he isn’t deeply asleep enough for that any more. After a few moments, she licks him again and he grumbles. If she does it once more, he’ll wake, muttering, but he doesn’t realize that it’s the dog who has awakened him.
If she wants more room in the bed, she sticks her feet into the offending body part and slowly pushes, increasing the pressure until it becomes uncomfortable and the person moves.
My parents used to have a dog that would do something similar. If she was on the bed, she would want the pillow (it is the softest part, after all.) But a human is there. How to gain the pillow for her royal daintiness?
Easy. She would just stick her butt in the human’s face and push until the offender moved.
Unfortuantely for her, that just led to her being banished from the human bed.
I’m a Stacy (with that exact spelling) and I know I’m not getting on your nerves today. On behalf of Stacies everywhere may we suggest a different name for your adorable cat?
