You’re right! I never thought of that all of this time! I love the Kliban Cats. It’s because of that one Kliban cartoon that I started calling my mother “Mom-Cat” years ago. (Oh, how embarrassing to admit this, but I must.)
I also have a Kliban Cat beach towel. It features a signature tubby tabby sitting on a stool strumming a guitar. He’s singing:
“Love to eat them mousies,
Mousies what I love to eat.
Bite they little heads off.
Nibble on they tiny feet.”
Of course, I made up a tune for that song a long time ago. It’s going through my head right now and will probably do so all night.
Doesn’t anyone else catalog the kitty’s parts and features?
“Oh, what a furry kitty face!”
“What a hairy belly!”
“Oooh, the tail that is so long and furry!”
“Look at those pointy ears! Oh, they’re so hairy!”
etc.
Song for Smokey cat at brushing time:
(to the tune of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang)
Oh my pretty kitty brush ho
pretty kitty brush ho
I love you
and my pretty kitty brush ho
pretty kitty brush ho
loves me too
m’iow, m’iow
pretty kitty brush ho
pretty kitty brush ho
m’iow
m’iow m’iow
pretty kitty brush ho
my furry purry friend
m’iow m’iow
pretty kitty brush ho
my fur-ry pur-ry friend
kitty brush ho
pretty kitty brush ho
furry purry pretty kitty friend
We do not under any circumstance refer to either Oscar or Poppy as cats. We consistantly refer to them as monkeys. Often **nice ** monkey (Poppy) and **mean ** monkey (Oscar), or **evil ** monkey (Oscar), or that monkey, usually when he’s peed on the floor, or gone through the bin, or tried to eat a wasp or something equally Oscar- like.
I did come home from work recently, the first one home as usual, and as I walked up the stairs to where they greet me I did my standard ridiculous sing-song kitty greeting ‘hey there! Hello monkey and hello monkey. Monkey! Monkey! Hello monkey, little monkey. Hello, hellooo, hello, helloooo’
and a gruff voice from upstairs calls ‘um, hi…?’
Little bro is staying with us and has popped in between viewings (he’s an estate agent, yes, I know), and was just a tad confused by the rapturous reception. :o
I’m just lucky he stopped me there, it goes on for a lot longer, gets increasingly ludicrous and often culminates in a length yodelling of
*‘monkeymonkeymonkeymonkeymonkeymonkeymonkeymonkeymooooooooonkeeeeeeeeyyy!!’ * with much cuddling and smooshing of faces.
Who is the kitten in the house?
I think it’s Maxling, he’s really really cute.
It’s okay to substitute “cute” with other adjectives, like, “evil”, “annoying”, “furry”, “destructive”, etc.
I often have to explain to Max that he is a kitten, but that is to differentiate him from me. “Max, let me explain. You are a kitty, and I am a human. That means I am the BOSS. Me: boss, you: kitty. That means when I tell you to stay off the table, you have to stay off the table!”
I’ve been asked by various coworkers (most of whom think I spoil Max outrageously) if Max speaks English or Bulgarian. I tell them he only knows one word of Bulgarian: “stiga”, which means “knock it off”. Although sometimes if I’m reading Bulgarian and I come to a word I don’t know, I ask him “what does this mean, Max? You’re a Bulgarian kitty”. But unless the word means “it is now time to bite humans”, he’s holding out on me. So I have to use the dictionary. Thanks a lot, Max.
I talk to Ceecee in fairly harsh, nagging tones, “What!?”, “You SUCK”, “Ceecee, you Biaatch!”, primarily because that is how she talks to me. Its all complaints, whingeing, moans, growls and hissing. She carries on like that even if she is curled in a ball on your lap and purring like a sewing machine. Snuggly cute talk freaks her out, but she is always ready to cuddle up to a good scolding. Barbara cat and the birds get a more traditional “Poooor kitty(bird), nobody loves you, your life is sooo hard”, and “Is that your BRAIN?, I’ve got your BRAIN, OH Nooooes!”
Poor kitty. She hardly lays on her back anymore (at least not when I am home). Every time she does there is “Kitty Tummy!!” and a belly rub. She does not like this but I can’t stop myself.
We have many songs. There’s “How much is that kitty in the window?” and “Cattanooga Choo Choo” and “Purrfect Day”, I can’t think of the others at this moment but there are more. Pretty much any song can be converted to a kitty song - you just have to replace the right words. Yes, I am a little crazy - why do you ask?
Let’s see if I can remember all of my particular quirky kitty-speak…
We have 4 girl cats (oldest to youngest: Tallulah, Nini, Mango, and Willow), so it is unusual to enter any room of the house without at least one of them being in it.
What’s goin’ on in here?
Whateryou doin’ in here?
Whatcha doin’ in here?
Where’s the kitten? (no longer a kitten)
Where’s the baby? (no longer a baby)
Where’s the Mango?
One of them (Tallulah) is prone to talking, and I’ll either mimic her or I’ll keep responding.
Really?
I had no idea…
Wow. Fascinating.
You don’t say?
