Years ago, we briefly had a foundling kitten stay with us until there was a shelter/foster spot for her. Allie spent that two days hiding under the bed, totally freaked out. It was ludicrous. Little scrap of black fuzz that fit in my hand had an adult Siamese terrified.
I dont think the big cats were afraid of the kittens, I think they were reacting to having new cats in their living space. Cats are weird like that.
We got our two young cats a little more than three years ago, when they were about seven months old. They are a bonded pair. We don’t really know what their early lives were like. The lady who was fostering them told us they were “rescued from hoarders.”
Opehlia’s Circle of Trust has a very small radius. r = 3, in fact - my wife, my daughter, and I. Any time the doorbell rings, Ophelia makes a mad dash for her Safe Spot under our bed. If we have friends over, she might come out after a couple of hours, but she stays far away. When my parents come to visit, it takes her about a day to return to any semblance of normal, but she’s still skittish around them the entire time.
It’s really too bad… she is such a sweetheart, and absolutely adorable. But no one will ever really know that but the three of us.
Her brother, Irving, couldn’t care less about visitors. He has no problem introducing himself to anyone who comes over.
Cats often seem freaked out by strange small kittens.
I wonder whether they’re expecting Mama Cat to appear any moment and attack them if they come too close.
my cat will pee in the box but poop right next to it … or shell hide it under that puppy pad thats around the cat box …
the youngest will walk from the tiled kitchen where its easy to wipe up to barf on the carpet where it isn’t … and the rather large 9 pounds of tub and fur meows like a 3 week old kitten… shes only meowed like a normal cat once when one of her adopted sisters snuck out back and was locked out …
I think of it as an exclusive privilege. Like my little girl cat- the one who snuggles under my arm- I’m the only one on the planet who gets to experience that. She’ll allow my roommate’s kid to touch her on occasion and she’ll let people approach and pet her if she’s safely there in my armpit, but other than that… it doesn’t matter if you’re the Pope or Jeff Bezos or Lin-Manuel Miranda. A billion dollars couldn’t buy her trust and love. It’s only for me.
thanks, DrDeth, but I’ve actually been a member since like 2004. I seem to have lost my old ID during the transition… 
I thought of one my old boy Rocky does: when he decides he wants a belly rub, he doesn’t lay down or flop over. He stops, pauses a second or two, then falls over with a thud. Similar to this, minus the smoking head.
Same here, with the following differences: Belly rub means the back is stuffed into my hip, back rub means the belly is clued to my hip. Making biskets is optional in both configurations.
Allie insists that when I’m holding her, her head must be pointed to my left. If I’m in bed and she comes looking for a snuggle, she insists on being on my left. She does not appear to be picky about it with DH.
Nikki likes to “pronk” half-rear up and bonk her head against my knee. She will only do this when I’m sitting on the toilet. No other seating arrangements will entice her to do this.
Same with my late husband - only when he was sitting on the human litter box.
After a few bonks, if I’m still sitting there, she’ll settle down and stare, purring. He coined the term “poopervisor” for this.
My cat likes to scratch at a door for up to ten minutes trying to get inside a room, go inside the room for literally 5 minutes and just wander around, then scratch at the door again to leave.
I had a cat who repeatedly stole my toothbrush and left it in her
water bowl.
Sounds explicable to me.
Did you keep using it? I would have.
A cat is always on the wrong side of a closed door.
Nope. At first I suspected my roommate’s new boyfriend of taking it. 
Merlin steals challah. And eats it with every sign of enjoyment. Maybe he’s getting in touch with his Jewish roots?
That reminds me of the time I found my cat playing with a dreidel he had apparently knocked off a shelf. (No, he wasn’t actually spinning it).