Aaron recently bought me larger monitors for my computer – highly useful for grad school – but the cats apparently think my desk is even more irresistible. Now all three regularly stop by for desk visits.
As cat owners know, cats are ninjas. Some have incredible hiding powers. (Some, however, not so much…) A couple weeks ago, Charlie would disappear and we couldn’t find him in his usual spots. We knew he was somewhere in the house but couldn’t figure out where. Then I saw something move out of the corner of my eye…the sock bin. Charlie had climbed inside Aaron’s sock basket and decided to take a snooze in it.
Cats are so weird.
Do your cats hide in unusual spots? Do they sleep in laundry bins or dresser drawers? Share in the comments!
Our cats like their routine and stick to it – and steadfastly ignore Daylight Savings Time. Now that we are no longer free-feeding so that Mau gets his Tylosin and to ensure everyone gets equal portions (and thus prevent pigging out or bullying), the cats let us know when they’re hungry. Mau, in particular, is very vocal when he thinks it’s time for dinner and would like to lodge a complaint with management about the delay in service. This afternoon he took it upon himself to get dinner now.
After the cats finish eating, we take the bowls up and put them in the pantry, with the door firmly closed. Why? If we put them on the counter, Mau might climb up and help himself to his food along with everyone else’s (we’ve caught him doing this in the past, hence why we now put the bowls in the pantry). That is not a habit we want him to continue – counters are not acceptable places for kitties in our house – and we don’t want Mau to teach Garrus and Charlie this habit either. Mau decided to go counter surfing and climbed onto the trash can to get leverage. He promptly knocked over the trash can and a couple things off the counter (unbreakable, fortunately) and skittered off, startled by the CRASH. I saw him skedaddle and followed him into the hallway. He turned and gave me such a look of innocence with those big, slightly googly blue eyes. It’s difficult to get mad at him because he’s so cute.
Cue the dramatic yammering. “Mama, I’m STARVING! FEED ME NOW BEFORE I WASTE AWAY INTO NOTHINGNESS! Oh, by the way, I have no idea how the trash can got knocked over. I had absolutely nothing to do with that and I wasn’t anywhere near the counter. See? I’m too adorable and TOO HUNGRY.”
Charlie and Garrus, hearing the drama unfold from their snoozing spots in the bedroom, came out to give their two cents and squeaked too – comments from the peanut gallery, I suppose. At least they were more polite about it and even threw in prancey walks and tail hugs with their “please feed me” requests. Cats are so demanding.
Garrus contemplates his dinner options next to the ottoman.
Charlie tries to be coy after squeaking up a storm.
Are your cats fed on a schedule? How do they react to Daylight Savings Time? When they are hungry, how do they let you know? Share in the comments!
Hooray, hooray! It’s National Cat Day!
Oh wait. I’m pretty sure that’s every day at our house. The clowder insists that we celebrate, even if we don’t give them new toys every day. Instead we give them adoration.
Garrus and Charlie observed National Cat Day with an appropriately cute snuggle. Not quite a heart shape but bromance-flavored nonetheless.
When I told Mau it was National Cat Day, this was his response. Typical.
Everyone wanted to bro down for National Cat Day. Note Garrus’ intense side eye.
How will you celebrate National Cat Day? Will there be catnip-filled merrymaking, new toys, and cat tower carousing? Share in the comments!
Sometimes the cats decide to doze on the bed. Garrus tends to curl up near the pillows and looks at us like we just insulted his mother if we ask him to move so we can sleep too. Such a snooty face! But, because he is a Gentleman Cat, he does move.
“It’s only Wednesday? How disappointing. I’m going to nap on your side then.” ~Garrus
“Pardon me, but I believe these jeans belong to me. I find them most comfortable. I’m sure you won’t miss them.” ~Garrus
Occasionally we can convince him that he doesn’t have to move immediately and instead could just enjoy a bed visit. Even if he starts purring, more often than not he’ll still give us a healthy dose of side-eye. I’m pretty sure if he could speak in English, he would be a deadpan snarker.
If your cats could talk, what do you think they would say? Would they have a sense of humor? Share in the comments!
Cats will find the most interesting ways to amuse themselves – and often end up making their humans chuckle too. Occasionally all three cats will have the zoomies, though it is rare for all three to have the zoomies at the same time. During a decent scamper session, there is usually quite a bit of jumping onto and sliding on top of the ottoman. Apparently Mau discovered another use for the crocheted blanket after his slide made it askew: it makes a hiding spot!
“You can’t see me! I’m hiding!” (No, not really. I could see your fluffy tail sticking out from beneath the blanket.)
“Where should I scamper to next?”
Do your cats ever get the zoomies? What happens? Do your other pets join in or is it a solo excursion? Share in the comments below!
I shared this little anecdote on Facebook one year ago, a few months before I started Purry Home Companion. It’s been three weeks since I said goodbye to Boudicca but she will always be my beloved Queen B in my heart.
This exchange happens nearly every time I open the sliding laundry doors…
Boudicca: Mama, whatcha doing? Can I help? I must be involved in every activity you do!
Me: Moving laundry.
Boudicca: I must explore this place for the 4,638th time! *sneaks in as I close the doors*…Um, Mama? Why is it dark in here? Mama? OMG I’ve been abandoned and imprisoned forever! I am now INCREDIBLY CONCERNED. Meow. Meow. Mreow. MROW.
Me: Boudicca, you’ve been in there for 2.3 seconds. Calm down. *I open the doors*
Boudicca: I must make epic prison break! I am FREE AT LAST! *darts out of laundry closet and proceeds with highly googly zoomies around the house*
In seventeen years, Boudicca hasn’t learned much and it’s still hilarious.
After spending much of the day at the vet’s office on Tuesday and feeling very crummy, Boudicca understandably needed time to decompress. After I brought her home late Tuesday afternoon, though, I was not sure if she would continue to have accidents until the antibiotic started to work its magic. One of the techs also noted that the boys might act aggressive or oddly around her because she smelled like the vet’s office, so that was something to watch for and prevent if it occurred. (Sometimes cats can pick on a sick cat or a cat returning from the vet.) In order to deal with this issue, I briefly separated Boudicca from the other cats and confined her in the bathroom, equipped with food, water, and a litter box. She had not eaten much that day and had been probably stressed out for much of the day, despite the techs and vet giving her assurance and affection when possible. She needed a break.
Although she did eat, drink, and use the litter box (no accidents), Boudicca was decidedly unhappy about being confined. She pawed under the door, and this action, combined with her persistent meowing, brought the boys over. I found the boys having a committee meeting in the hallway in front of the door, staring intently underneath the door frame and reaching their paws beneath. I’m not sure if they thought it was a game or not. Then Garrus–of all cats!–surprised me by pulling a Houdini move and springing Boudicca out of the joint. Jailbreak! I still have no idea how he opened the door because he has never demonstrated this talent before or since. Suddenly I had all three cats barreling down the hallway, with Boudicca in the lead, hissing her displeasure and her tail semi-poofed. When Boudicca tore out of the bathroom, Charlie thought, “Oh it’s time to chase! Yay! I love this game!” Boudicca promptly turned into Bette Midler a la Winifred Sanderson in Hocus Pocus, emphatically not game for such shenanigans. When I appeared to intervene, the boys scampered off to the bedroom, left Boudicca alone, and furiously repolished their halos for the rest of the evening.
The following day (Wednesday) was unmistakably calmer. We had no issues giving Boudicca her medication because we disguised it in a dollop of wet food, and the treatment seemed to kick in right away. She spent most of the day catching up on much needed sleep. She was so involved in her sleep that I could nearly see the z’s floating off of her.
Throughout the day I checked on her to see how she was doing. Every few hours she got up to nibble at her food, take a drink, or visit the Cat Genie, and I wanted to make sure she wasn’t having any problems or that the boys bothered her. Thankfully, both Garrus and Charlie figured out that Her Royal Highness had been under the weather and needed to fully recuperate, and in order to do so, she needed her space. They respected that like upstanding Gentlemen Cats that they can be. However, whenever I checked on Boudicca, Charlie would appear out of nowhere and squeak up a storm. Apparently he had a lot to say about something and wanted me to know! I made sure that both the boys got some attention so they wouldn’t get jealous.
On Wednesday afternoon I decided to sit on the couch and read one of my library books. I do this fairly often, and Boudicca is my dedicated reading buddy. She was already snoozing in her spot on the couch so I took my seat beside her. As I sat down–before I started petting her–she began purring in her sleep. It was so precious. Eventually she distracted me from reading by doing this:
I could tell that she was feeling less gunky when she turned upside down and slept like this. About an hour into my reading session, Boudicca woke up and, while quiet and polite, very determinedly insisted that I make my lap available for her.
“Maternal parental unit, I decree that it is lap time now.”
Boudicca claimed my lap and shortly thereafter I had to contend with feline paralysis. I was not allowed to move unless it was to pet her, give her kisses on her forehead (she asked for several so I had to oblige), hold her close, and tell her that she was a sweet, pretty girl and that I loved her. Cue copious amounts of purring (over two hours) and air biscuits. Very happy kitty!
It has taken Boudicca seventeen years to figure out how to knead and when she finally did knead, she did so for approximately 10 seconds. 99% of the time she simply does rather googly air biscuits. Oddly, she regularly makes air biscuits at the vet’s office when she is petted, examined, or even when getting poked or prodded (included getting blood drawn). She’ll make air biscuits when slung over my shoulder or when lounging in order to better receive adoration. (Usually purrs get louder if she is told she is a pretty girl.) It’s adorable and incredibly charming. Go Miss Dancing Paws.
Here Boudicca demonstrates how to simultaneously sunbathe and make air biscuits.
Charlie makes air biscuits too, usually when he is being exceptionally flirtatious and seeking rubs. Cue slow blinks, very loud purrs, lots of flopping, and the occasional super cute squeak.
As of yet, Garrus has not kneaded or demonstrated air biscuits. I’m not sure if he is simply too dignified a Gentleman Cat to do so or if he has not yet relaxed enough to go googly and knead. But he does slow blink and semi-flop (in a refined manner, of course).
I’m pretty sure when I took this photo Garrus was actually purring, despite his irritated looking expression.
Do your cats knead? Do they make air biscuits? What makes them happy (or googly) enough to do this? Have you ever had a cat drool when kneading?
Charlie is a busy, ridiculously cute, and rather kittenish cat. He loves to play. Fortunately–and amusingly–he is perfectly happy to play with nearly anything. I’ve seen him bat around a coffee bean and, later, a single kibble for hours. We have given him crinkly Mylar balls and Ethical Pet heavy gauge plastic springs. At times he will bat around a jingle ball and investigate a puzzle egg toy in order to get a treat out of it. (A dear friend sent me these particular puzzle toys, along with a piñata, but a similar puzzle toy can be found on Chewy.)
When Charlie is particularly frisky, my living room looks like a daycare center with toys spilled haphazardly everywhere. Of course, Charlie temporarily loses his toys whenever he bats them under furniture and cannot fish them out with his questing paws. Whenever we recover toys for him, he reacts with such unfettered glee. (Often times though, he loses his toy again within half an hour. Then the cycle begins anew.)
By far, though, Charlie’s absolute favorite toys are the two fuzzy brown mice and a fuzzy brown ball that he tore off the cat tower. (We cut away the remaining elastic strings to prevent him from being able to chew or swallow them.) It’s utterly hilarious and terribly charming when I catch Charlie carrying these toys around in his mouth. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to snap a photo of him doing this yet.
When we need to vacuum, we pick up all the toys and temporarily place them on one of the cat tower platforms. Charlie and Garrus prefer the one on the left, so we put the toys on the right platform since they don’t use it as much. At first, we did this purely for practical reasons but soon we noticed that Charlie decided this was a new game. After he realized that his toys were all in one spot, he would scale the tower, go to the right platform, and bat at least one crinkle ball off the platform onto the floor. He typically goes straight for his fuzzy toys, picks one up in his mouth, and either carries it down to the floor or simply drops it. Then he goes back to his spot on the left platform. If we immediately replace the toy, he takes it as a cue to play with extra zest and attacks the toy (and usually the scratching poles in the process), tosses the given toy back onto the floor, and usually starts batting it around for awhile after that. Sometimes chirping accompanies the toy carrying and/or the batting session. It’s very silly.
Now when we find his fuzzy toys on the floor, we surreptitiously replace it back onto one of the top three platforms for Charlie to find. We’ve also occasionally hid them inside the kitty condos or put them on a lower platform in order for him to investigate and to keep things interesting for him. I’m quite pleased when I see that he is using his mind as well as his paws to keep himself entertained. If playtime is not occupying him, it could be mischief!
His latest project is depositing toys around the house in odd places. It’s not uncommon to find a mouse in the middle of the hallway or under a chair after we wake up. On a few occasions Charlie has approached me with a toy in his mouth, only to drop it and scamper away. It’s not clear whether he wants me to throw said toy (he doesn’t fetch…yet) or if I should regard the toy as a present. Sleeping Garrus on the bed? Clearly a toy mouse needs to go under his tail without Garrus’ apparent knowledge. Maybe Charlie thinks Garrus needs a napping buddy. Mom’s in the bathroom? A fuzzy ball needs to be placed just outside the door…because reasons. Another mouse needs to placed in the exact center of the kitchen floor. Perhaps it is the mascot for the kitty convention they will hold under the kitchen table later.