The Perfect Caturday

Here’s Lattis.

She enjoys terrorizing crickets, sniffing ankles, and staring at light bulbs.

Here’s Oliver.

He enjoys eating with his paw, plopping over on his side, and stealing my seat.

Do you have any cats? What do they like to do?

13 thoughts on “The Perfect Caturday

  1. I have three “cats.” (shhh…I finally have them convinced that they are, indeed, cats.) One is a Great Dane cat, one is a Newfoundland cat, and one is a black Lab cat. They enjoy barking, oh um, MEOWING at birds and chasing squirrels, which they think are somehow related to them. They like leaving nose prints on all the windows at eye level so no one else can see out. One likes to lie under my desk while I’m on the computer, which is nice (not) except that she nibbles on my toes which makes me jump. Another one leaves giant furballs everywhere, which eventually form into new “cats” and take over the furniture and beds. One likes to flop herself down on the floor and thump said floor with her enormous tail, which is really a whip she stole from someone and brought it with her when she moved in.

    http://marcusorion.com/about/canines/

  2. Spike enjoys scrambled eggs and cream cheese (whipped, not block). Pete like to practice his patented pounce-swat-run on Spike’s head. Pete also likes to sprawl across the pleasantly warm router/modem and randomly disconnect it. They both look forward to fall, when the windows are finally raised and they can sit on the sills and tell other cats to get off their lawn. Skritches and belly rubs are also popular.

    http://spectralobelisk.blogspot.com/2011/04/zen-of-pete.html

  3. We have (2 of our own and one foster kitty). Boo is our oldest and mainly an outdoor cat.. he likes to go outside and play with the raccoons and other wild life. He thinks hes a people for the most part when hes in the house, insists on sitting behind one of the kids at dinner, etc. And as he goes outside you cant talk to him (I think its because hes embarrassed and doesnt want to other animals to know that hes a sweet kitty… ya know when you are walking then tough streets of Warm Mineral Springs.. you have an image to maintain).

    Arthur is our indoor kitty. Her name is Arthur Louise. When we got her we couldnt tell if she was male or female from all of her fluff (and I took the owner of the mom’s word for it). She enjoys sitting on top of any paper work, empty boxes and chasing flies, bits of paper and sometimes things that (evidently) we humans cant see.

    Astra is our foster kitty. She was a feral and we have been trying to bring her out of her shell. Shes doing much better so we should be able to find her a permanent home for her soon. She likes eating, sleeping, belly rubs and looking at you with a serious look of disdain on her face.

  4. Oh yes. Her favorite thing is drinking from the fish bowl, drinking from the water waiting to go in the fish bowl, drinking from my tea cup and just in general, drinking from stuff she’s not supposed to drink from.

  5. One cat, Asrielle and she likes to eat pasta, she insists on having chats in the morning and licking butter off my fingers from my toast, and she is an avid hunter of mutant dust bunnies under my bed. OH and she is lovely and checks to make sure you’re still breathing at 3 AM by standing on your chest and licking your chin.. since she weighs 20lbs approx you tend to let her know you are still alive!

  6. I want to snitch up Lattis. She’s so adorable.

    I have nine cats.

    Tibby-Tabby-Mama is the maternal alpha cat and because she is old she spend her day in an IKEA chair, monitoring our comings and goings. She’s a reformed feral and became the sweetest cat. We once saw what happened when she caught a squirrel and it was basically a shot for shot reenactment of the movie Saw.

    Cicero is Tibby’s son and he lounges fatly. And handsomely. He resembles a honey-baked ham stuffed into a python suit. He is a pica chewer. He also leaves buttdrags on the carpet every day.

    Wooster is Tibby’s nephew and Cicero’s half-brother. He cringes fatly. And handsomely. He’s obese and he pees/craps/vomits when we pick him up. He is very inbred. His father was his uncle and his grandfather. So given the level of consanguinity involved in his creation, it could have been much worse than pee/crap/vomit when handled. He loves to lick plastic. That makes him so happy.

    Gertie is Wooster’s sister from another litter and she’s messy and cute. And very, very stupid. But cute. So very cute. She’s a scavenger – you don’t leave a glass of water or a piece of cake unattended in our house.

    Oliver, aka Noodle is our most defective cat. His face leaks, he has polydactly and poly-cystic kidney disease. He’s a black and white cat, highly intelligent, and best friends with the House Moose. He’s the brains, the Moose is the muscle.

    Patchwork Sally is a tiny little torbie and is the most active cat in the house. She loves Cicero and tries to play with everyone. She’s also an escape artist. No one ever believes us on this and every time we take her to the vet it’s a catastrophe as they try to corral her back into her carrier. Once it took three hours to get her under control because she backed herself in the corner under an immovable piece of machinery of some sort.

    Clementine is a pretty black cat, very vocal and often highly strung. She’s got some Siamese in her. She has two spots she sleeps in and becomes inconsolable when someone, usually the House Moose, takes her spot.

    Miss Baby is a bedroom cat. She’s very cranky but loves us very much. She is a torbie too, and for some reason, Clementine thinks she is her nemesis. She is also a reformed feral and is extraordinarily grateful to be inside with plenty of food. Her gratitude makes up for her crankiness.

    Grendel, aka The House Moose, is an enormous, black cat with the IQ of a postage stamp. He’s highly destructive, and Noodle gets him into all sorts of trouble. But he’s easily one of the most handsome cats I have ever known and is a largely an amiable dope. He hates the birds and squirrels that my husband feeds in our backyard but he loves my husband immoderately.

    And I feel I must mention my beloved and now deceased Adolph, aka El Gato Muy Malo. A black and white cat, he was the most remarkable animal I have ever known. He was our gross roommate who refused to learn English or get a job. He understood Spanish and we frequently found the TV tuned in to Spanish-language stations. He adored Lady Gaga. He was the alpha, a dreadful but ineffective bully, and had virtually no boundaries. He also resembled Hitler and came pre-named when he decided he was going to live with me. He loved children and Halloween was his favorite day of the year. He’s been gone for a year and a half and I still miss him every day.

  7. Bib (Born in a Barn) talks. A lot. Brian carries on entire conversations with her. Anytime you say anything to her, she responds with meows of varying intensity and changing tones. SHE knows she is making perfect sense, but we have so far been unable to translate cat.

  8. JB Reynaldo

    My cat is called Rowdy Fernandez (my friend named him) he likes to chase after cockroaches and bring it into the house and place it right next to me, which naturally freaks me out since I hate insects especially cockroaches. He also likes to wake me up in the middle of the night as he runs around the bed while I sleep. But I really love my cat and I would love to spend my days with him for as long as possible. =)

  9. rickythewiz

    Certainly beats a dog day afternoon. Thanks for great entertainment today. I’m catching up on favourite blogs after a busy week and I’ve spent over an hour on yours. Great stuff! Husbands very funny and I love The Guild. So accurate and nice work on the social commentary. Good dry dead pan stuff. Pure genius. Hope you are well and this comment finds you in the pink of health and happiness.

  10. Hey, Jeremy. Your Oliver is a carbon-copy of our Jones. Not only do they look identical, but they sleep a lot. Currently, Jones loves coming into our bedroom at 6:00 am on weekends and crying a lot, as if he is desperately in need of something – which he is not. Then he jumps on the bed and climbs onto my chest, curling up there. What a creep!

    -Jimmy

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