Woke up this morning to water all over the kitchen floor. OMG, do we have a leak under the sink again? No…
Turns out some kitties had knocked the Culligan jug off the cooler. I usually keep it covered with a pillowcase because they love to slap at it to see it slosh. Last time we replaced the jug I forgot to put the pillowcase back on right away, and I left it off since kitties seemed to have lost interest. I should have known better. They were just biding their time.
Tell me about your naughty kitties so I will feel better. :smack:
Wow! That’s some pretty good swatting power your kitties have to get the jug off! Hope they didn’t get splatted.
As for naughty kitties… I once had one that liked to flush the toilet - all. night. long. The kitty is now gone (heart quit :() and the water bill is back to normal levels.
Talk about biding their time! It’s not to be trusted.
You know the unroll-the-toilet-paper ploy? The kittens loved it but I thought after eight years we were long done with that. The other morning I got up to discover that big orange, docile kitty had decided to frolic in yesteryear’s pleasures. Toilet paper goes back into unreachable place for a while.
I have to give her a pass on this. It had been raining for weeks and she had little chance to get outside and burn off some of that perverse energy that they build up.
Aren’t they the sly creatures, though? My cats have all been well trained and will seldom violate a rule. But it’s never a guarantee. Sometimes that cat nature just takes over and - you know the look - the ears go back and an expression of fierce determination appears on the cat face and you know that they just. have. to. do. it. No matter what. No sense opposing a cat who has that look on his face.
My first kitty, who lived with us for nineteen years, wasn’t supposed to get on the dining room table. In all those years I never once saw her do it. But there was always a nice round pile of black kitty hairs in the center of the tablecloth.
Mine used to like to dig soda bottle caps out of the trash can and carry them up to the bathtub where they would play hockey all night.
Somehow the same kitties who could sneak around the house during the day without making as much noise as a dropped pin were the same kitties who could sound like a herd of elephants charging up the stairs at night.
They would team up with the dogs and knock stuff off the top of the fridge I had put up there to keep away from the dogs.
Then there was the one whose mother had been feral, she was determined to go outside. She would ask to go out and if I wouldn’t let her she would shred my curtains or rip up the blinds. When that didn’t work she starting peeing on my foot.
Unlike other cats who will kill critters and bring you the half eaten corpse, she would bring them in the house alive and let them go.
I’ve got one who likes to flush the toilet (though fortunately he seems to have gotten bored with it, since I haven’t heard him do it in quite some time).
Also, we keep a big dish of water in the shower in the spouse’s bathroom. One or two of them love to shove the dish of water aside and pull up the shower drain cover. Sometimes they drop things down there, but thankfully not often. Last time I cleaned it out (a truly disgusting experience, I might add, though strangely satisfying) I found two pens down there, and one plastic toy. Since we have no children, I can only assume that one or more of my furry little perps were responsible.
Finally, my big galoot of a tabby (whose tail is nearly as long as he is) likes to chase it…on the headboard of our bed, which is about four inches wide. Sometimes he loses his balance and falls. On our heads. Fortunately this has only happened a couple of times and we were awake both times, so no harm done. We’re getting a new bed soon, and one of the criteria for picking it out was that it had to have a headboard too narrow for cats to walk on.
Now it’s salad season, and as I live on my own, I thought I’d try a tray of “living salad leaves” that you keep on the kitchen windowsill, water, and harvest a few leaves as necessary. Result? Little green pools of kitty vomit on the kitchen floor.
If you’re walking up the steps, Lyla the cat loves to dart in front of you as you make your climb.
She did this to my wife who lost her balance and fell hard into the hand rail. Her forearm caught the worst of it and she ended up with a big bruise. Lyla observed the aftermath with nary a whit of concern.
About two weeks later, Lyla’s making that dry heave sound that cat owners immediately recognize as a kitty who is about to hurl.
My wife decided to pick the cat up and place her in the bathroom so she could do her business there rather than on the carpeted floor.
Instead Lyla flailed out, wild cat style and her claws opened up a nasty gash on the underside of my wife’s hand. This resulted in a trip to the urgent care facility since we thought it might require stitches. Fortunately it didn’t.
This is Vienna, who I think is developmentally challenged . . . but she’s a wizard at finding rubber bands. I have to hide them out of reach, like in drawers, but somehow she manages to find ones I didn’t know I had. Just about every other day I find her chewing on one, or find a well-chewed one lying on the floor. I honestly don’t know where she gets them; they’re not even the kind I normally use. And she’s an indoor cat, which rules out finding them outside.
Mayme’s water bowl can only have an inch of water in it. Any more and we have a lake. She loves splashing and washing her paws in it. We’ve tried the fountain type water systems - none of the cats would drink from it. She also is our proud hunter. Every night, just as I’m starting to fall asleep, she starts to bring me her “kills” - her catnip mouse, her feather boa (don’t ask), her toy on a stick - basically any toy she can find. There have been a few nights where I’ve forgotten to put the rest of the toys away, and her parade lasted almost an hour. Trying to sleep in a bed full of cat toys isn’t fun, either.
Her sister, Dot, is my alarm clock. She started this morning at 5am (grr). On the bookshelf, divebomb mom. On my dresser, divebomb mom. Put things on top of the bookshelf, so she hasn’t any space to divebomb mom. Knock it all down, then divebomb mom. She’s also taken to being a climber. If I’m bent over, brushing my teeth / washing dishes / putting laundry in the washer or dryer, she will jump onto my back, climbing up to my shoulder. Luckily, she’s a scrawny little thing, but she still has claws.
Lucy, thank gawd, is “normal” as far as cats go. No quirks, unless you count her affinity for strings. No strings are safe, including the strings on my (too big) pajama pants. I have been depants by my cat. While I was walking.
My two current kitties, Hatshepsut (Soot) and Cleopatra (Cleo), have calmed down since leaving kittenhood, but just when I think I’m in the clear, they commit some other act of kitty mayhem.
Soot managed to tip a one gallon clay pot with plant off the counter. She also has a fondness for the cut flowers I put out once a week. Tulips are her favorite. She’ll get up there and chew right across the stem like a beaver until the bloom falls off and I’m left with a vase full of rude stems. If she can’t chew the flower, she’ll pull it out and drag it off the table.
Cleo is a slut. While both she and Soot like all the people who’ve come into the apartment, about half the people Cleo meet, she wants to have sex with. Well, not with the person, but with one of their extremities. I’m constantly pulling her off my brother’s leg. When my best friend from high school visited, Cleo waited until my friend was sitting on the couch, and then started getting freaky with friend’s forearm - wrapping her legs around, getting some hip action, and then doing this sexy kitty nibbling. My friend, who is Hispanic, looked up at me and said “you should get them Mexican more often.”
My newest boy Hubble likes to get on the key tray and snuggle up to me when I’m wearing my thick furry robe in the morning. Then he starts kneading. Which isn’t too bad except that a) his claws come out (ouch), and b) he has his paws wrapped around my boob and his mouth in just about the right place to make it look like he’s trying to suckle. I keep pointing out that I’m the wrong species and those don’t work anyway…
This idjit used to love to play with a potted cactus. I’d find it de-potted in the middle of the floor. He also used to steal my bras out of the laundry. But to be fair, he always brought them back - they’d be on the end of my bed the next morning.