When me and Mr. E are being quiet and Azzy can’t figure out where we are, she’ll meow plaintively until we yell, “Here we are, Azzy!” And then you’ll hear her running feet before she appears in the room. She will also play fetch.
Raiju is a lap cat. The funny thing about her is that she will sit in my lap and then put both of her paws out and sort of around me. It’s like she’s hugging me! Very cute! She also enjoys tummy rubs. There’s a special way Mr. E rubs her tummy that she absolutely loves. He’ll move his hand back and forth really fast, and Raiju will flop back and forth and sink her claws in the carpet and pull herself along. She is in kitty heaven.
I can’t wait until I see my kitties again. Two weeks!
Then there was that time that I put a plate of treats down in front of Boo. He sniffed it, looked at my wife and I, said “I don’t want that”, and walked away. :eek: Yes, it was spoken with a very “meow”-tinged accent, kinda like feline Astro talking, but we both heard it plain as day.
Obviously a coincidence, but freaky as hell nonetheless.
Tarot plays fetch, and “sits” on command. We’re working on “roll-over”.
Even if there is food in her dish she won’t eat until I am there in the kitchen with her. She won’t go downstairs in the morning without me, so I am constantly getting kitty-glares to hurry up so she can go eat.
She uses her paw to drink, unless she’s really, really thirsty. (put paw in water, lick paw, repeat) She will drink only from the bamboo planter - guess bamboo flavoured water tastes better.
She hates it when I sing. She will sit in the corner all figety and then suddenly run over and bite me, whining piteously. My voice is not that bad - honest!
Then again, maybe he’s saying “Hello! We seem to have run out of fresh meat in the cat dish. Liver would be nice. Or anything, really. Not that I’m complaining or anything, but still. Fresh meat. Mmmm…”
Baby, my fat little ball of cathair, will sit facing me just after I get out of the shower. My hands are damp and she wants me to “lick” her face. Big purr. The rest of the time she faces away from me and watches TV. She really likes the History Channel.
Tosha is Mr. Snicks’ audience when he plays the harmonica - she’ll meow, then get up really close. She sits in his lap and put her face inches from his.
Sometimes she’ll sing with us. If I’m cleaning, sometimes I’ll sing goofily. If she’s in the room with me, I’ll sing my line, point, and she’ll meow. Good stuff.
She also lets out plaintive mews if she’s lost us. Funny thing is, it’s always around 10 or 11 at night that she loses us. It’s not like we go anywhere strange - we’re in the bedroom. Same place we go every single night around that time. But she can’t find us until we call.
She passes out over her waterbowl. She doesn’t sit in front of it like normal cats and drink, no, not she. She flops on her side and rather curls around the bowl to drink, getting her entire chin and throat wet in the process. She used to have a gastrointestinal problem and would throw up once a week or so - we called her our bulemic kitty who passes out over the waterbowl after a bender.
We’re going on vacation for a week, and boy, will she let us have it when we get back. But I’m kind of looking forward to it…
Whenever I get up to walk anywhere, Sirius will get directly in front of my feet, wait till I’m in the dark hallway and therefore can’t see him, and whump himself down onto his back for a belly rub. He refuses to let me pet him with my feet. And yet, if I’m sitting at the dining room table, he sits at my feet and licks my toes.
Khan also seems to hate books. “You reading that? Not anymore, because now all you can see is my big white kitty ASS!!!” He also has a great affection for earrings, and I’ve woken up more than once to find him licking my earlobes, which, while it may explain the dream I was having, freaks me out a bit.
If Vira is across the room, I can do the “Crocodile Dundee” thing that he does with the bull – you know, point at her with my index and pinky, make a throaty sound and rock my hand back and forth – and she will fall over on her side and roll back and forth while making little cat sounds. Very weird.
When my 10-year-old gray cat Hobbes knows I am home he’ll come to the window by the door, stand on his hind legs and rapidly rub his paws against the window (left, right, left, right…) and meow several times until I am inside. He also has to have his kitty treats first thing when I get home. I give him a slice of that thin turkey lunch meat. He also expects to get one every time I go to the refrigerator. He sleeps next to me on my bed every night and he’s always awake before I am, pawing at the blinds. This is okay during the week, but on weekends I wish he knew what day it was so he could let me sleep in peace. If I close the door he’ll paw and scratch at the door since he always likes to be in the same room I am in, including the bathroom. Hobbes becomes especially friendly when I get out of the shower. He’ll purr and rub up against me. Someone told me that he’s re-depositing his scent onto me since it washes off in the shower.
Patches is my three-year-old black and white cat. He’s not as aggressive with the kitty treats as Hobbes is, but he usually shows up to get his treats when he knows Hobbes is getting his. Patches is more of a lap kitty in that he will hop up on my lap when I am sitting at the computer and he’ll get his back petted, his chin scratched and his ears rubbed. Sometimes Patches will wake me in the middle of the night and leap up onto my chest. He’ll purr and rub up against me and get some attention, which I don’t mind doing even if it’s 3 AM. I love both my kitties very much.
Coco can tell when I’m the only one awake. It’s the only time he’ll come up from the basement, jump over the half door, and actually go into the living room (He’s not fond of the three little children yet). I think he can tell who’s up by the sound of their walk. MooCow(aptly named by the kids), likes to lick and chew on my goatee. I push him away when scratching post mode starts and the nails come out .
Our cat does this also. We thought she was training herself, since when the TV foes off, we get up. So she gets herself out of our way when the TV goes off.
Lloyd spends so much time lying on his back I worry that his legs are going to migrate around (in the way that a flounder’s eyes will wind up on the top side…)
Bruno caught me a live bird the other day. I wouldn’t allow him to bring his gift indoors, but Lloyd went out to see it. Then he asked Bruno to let him hold it, and next thing you know that birdie was flying free. What good boys!
Our cats are both do very special things. In the way of Special Olympics that is.
Poopy likes to sit like a little man, like some of you have mentioned. He is also great at removing food from the food dish and putting it in the water dish, which is a few inches away.
Buggy is a drama queen. If the food or water dish is empty, or not full to capacity, he will lie by the dish and cry. He doesn’t really meow like normal cats do, it’s more like a “Meh.” The “e” sound gets longer the whinier he is. He’s also really great at finding “treasures,” especially things that I didn’t even know we had.
Oh, and Buggy is the cutest cat on the face of the Earth, if that counts. He has the most interesting markings I’ve ever seen on a cat. He even has a heart-shaped marking on his right hip.
Gozer, the Gozerian has successfully completed my “don’t be evil” seiminar, making him much less likely to rip the throats out of my guests, and use their intestines for a swat toy.
Unfortunately, I think that the “Be Evil” part of his brain also controlled the majority of his intelligence. Now that the evil has atrophied, he is now dumb as a bag of hair.
I’m working on a “don’t be stupid” training regimen, but I’m not sure how well that’s working. I may have to go for a balance where he is only semi-evil. Quasi-evil. The Diet Coke of evil, just one calorie.
Right now, his favorite game is “Lie on my back, stick up one back leg, then try to climb up it with my other three legs”.
My boy Kip requires my participation when it comes to playing with toys. Whenever I’m sick (which is often), he leaves me all his stuffed mice piled up just inside my bedroom door.
My girl Misha likes to sit in the middle of the living room floor and “sing”. At 4am. Every night. She also sits on the tub lip between the two shower curtains and plays with the water while I shower.
…sit beside me on the couch and, if I’m not paying attention to him, will gently tap my arm with his paw until I scratch his head. And if I stop scratching before he’s finished with me, he’ll tap me again.
…sit beside a pair of shoes and put both of his front paws in one of the shoes
He used to:
…be able to fetch a mini-slinky when we threw it, but we didn’t keep up with it and he doesn’t do it anymore
…be able to stand up and try to turn the doorknob with his front paws, if he was in our bedroom with the door shut. He’s too fat for that now, but I was so proud of how smart he was for realizing the way to open a door!
Bern is a crotchety ol’ fart. I’ve had since she was 8 weeks old, she just turned 14. Like others have posted, there is no reading when Bern is around. Last night I was attepting to read a magazine… FWUMP kitty ass smack in the middle. I have tried to out sneak her by laying two magazines out and reading alternately from them, but she always quickly figures out which one I’m really trying to read and, you got it, FWUMP. If I don’t pet her when she wants to be petted, she will wrap her paw around my wrist and hold it in place until I start scratching and petting her. If she has not been scratched/petted enough, you can’t try to move your hand. She’ll glare and grab your wrist back. When I am downstairs working I will often hear her meowing upstairs, like she’s lost. I’ll say “Bern, we’re down here”. She’ll clump down the stairs, meowing/scolding every step as if to say “I’ve been looking EVERYWHERE for you! You coulda announced it! Geesh!” Also, she’ll sit in front of me, pawing at me until she has my attention. Then she’ll meow. If I tell her to show me, she will. Hungry? She’ll go into the kitchen and paw at the pantry door. Thirsty? She’ll paw at her glass in the bathroom (forget the self-waterer).
Clee is my special short bus kitty. She is gorgeous. Pure white with vivid blue eyes. She does not meow, but rather she chirps “prrr-up?”. The few times I have heard her actually vocalize anything that resembles a Meow is when she is hunting down killer carniverous ponytails, forcing them to live under the stove/fridge until they wither and die. Or I clean. Then it’s Clee Heaven again. She is quite plump and either lays in kittyslut pose (flat on back) or sits like a human. Because of her heft, she must be given baths. She loves them. Hates the blowdrier, but loves being bathed. She’s the cat who sleeps on my head at night. If I have put gel in my hair, she will lick, gnaw, and drool into my hair. A friend gave me some patchouli hemp lotion- cat freaked. Licked my legs. When I attempted to move she bit.
Our cat Tybalt is the same way. He’ll squall endlessly until he gets it.
He also likes to “customize” his sleeping box. See, he turns his nose up at the actual kitty beds we’ve offered him, but put a shallow cardboard box on the floor, four to six inches deep and a foot or a foot and a half square, and that’s his new bed for a while. But he’s not content just to curl up in it, no: He carefully and fussily bites along one edge of the box, ripping little bits off it, until the whole side is ragged and slightly rounded down in the middle. Very strange.
I suggested to my wife that we should take a picture and post it with the label “cat art,” but we haven’t gotten around to it yet.
