Getting Inside My Cats' Heads

My cats rarely share the same space, so when they do, I grab the camera. This phenomenon happened a couple of weeks ago, and I just love how everyone looks in the photograph I captured. There are so many stories that could go along with this pic. I try to imagine what each of them is thinking. Here are a few ideas.

Cosmo: The girls got the best spots again. This is total BS.

Saffy: I'm in the window and Phoebe isn't swatting me. Is today Opposite Day?

Phoebe: *pretending not to see Saffy because too tired to swat*

Cosmo: I love Mom so much. I wonder where she is. *purr, purr, drool, drool*

Saffy: I'm hungry. I wonder if I can make it past Phoebe without her swatting me.

Phoebe: If Saffy leaves the window, I'll definitely swat her. And then I'll jack that window. Screw Opposite Day.


Just another day in Catladyland.

A Tale of Shenanigans and Hidden Treasures

I recently ran across this post I wrote several years ago. It made me laugh, so I thought it was worthy of sharing again!

I admit to be a mediocre housekeeper.  My home isn't dirty, but I'm not one who does this "furniture moving" business every time I vacuum.  A few times a year when we do move the big comfy chair to clean the layers of cat hair and lost pieces of popcorn (in addition to being a mediocre housekeeper, I am also a messy popcorn-eater), we always giggle with anticipation of the trove of cat toys and treasures we'll surely find.

Friends, we were not disappointed in the haul.  Not only did we celebrate the return of a few favorite mice and balls, we also discovered an open, chew-marked bag of treats!  I can only imagine the shenanigans that led up to the display of the attempted pilferage gone terribly wrong.

Certainly Phoebe was involved ... in fact she was most likely the brains behind the operation.  Saffy is a counter-crawler, so she probably knocked the bag on the floor.  I'm guessing about that time Cosmo made a move toward the contraband, setting off Phoebe, who lunged forward, digging her teeth into the bag.  At that time, Saffy, a known conflict-avoider fled the scene.  Thus began a little paw-to-paw combat between large, yet awkward Cosmo and small, but shrewd Phoebe.  I'm sure the treat bag made its way up and down the stairs, was slid across the bathroom linoleum, and was tossed in and out of boxes and cat hidey-holes until it finally met its final (and unreachable) resting place under the comfy chair.

Yes, I'm certain that's exactly how it happened.

Like to Lick Wrought Iron? Let's Be Friends!

Originally posted July 23, 2010.

It's 5:00 in the morning and my mind goes strange places when I've only had a few sips of coffee. I was just thinking about how bizarre it would be if I had a human friend that possessed some of the interesting and sometimes odd habits my cats do. Picture this: You meet a new friend and he or she...

• drools.
• incessantly licks wrought iron.
• stands beside your bed and shouts at you to get up at 3:00 AM.
• races around the kitchen table, skidding around corners at meal time.
• makes chirpy sounds at birds and other tiny animals.
• tries to hijack your pillow.
• licks their own behind.
• likes to sleep in small boxes and paper bags.

Would you befriend this person? I definitely would -- in fact, I have some friends with far stranger habits. Like this guy ...

This guy.

Cat Bed? I've Tried It

I tried the cat bed. It's pretty comfy.

Pussycat Playboy Has an Internet Addiction

I'm going to let you in on a little secret:  Cosmo has a little Internet addiction. I've had to change my laptop's password several times, but he's quite the hacker. And he loves the ladies. Certainly he's neutered, but he still considers himself a pussycat playboy. Put the two together and, well, they just spell trouble. And a need for yet another password.

Fuzzy Kitty Chests and Spanx for my Forehead

See that lovely fur on Cosmo's chest? That's the silky deliciousness I love to sink my face into. It's also the site of many a face-bite. And by face-bite, I mean my face getting CHOMPED. Thankfully, it's usually my forehead that gets the brunt of it and I don't have a chubby forehead. That would be weird, wouldn't it? "Hey! Here comes the girl with the flabby forehead!" I might have to wear forehead Spanx when I go out for fancy affairs. Which is never. I think I'd just let my forehead chub hang out as a toy for the cats. Man, I love that chest fur.

Flat-Bottomed Girl

Originally posted on 9/25/11.

I placed a clear box on the kitchen floor and, in typical cat-fashion, it became occupied in .23678 seconds by one surly-looking Phoebe.

We decided it would be funny to see what flat-bottomed Phoebe looked like so we lifted the surly girl off the ground.

I think it looks kind of artsy-fartsy, don't you?  Sort of like fancy sand art or something.  Hey -- flat-bottomed cat art could be the next new happenin' trend!  Don't tell Phoebe about my idea, though...she'll want at least an 80% cut.  

What do you think?

Cat Haiku -- Who Knew?

Imagine my surprise when I came home early from work and found my cats curled up on the sofa writing in tiny poetry journals! They reluctantly shared some of their work with me:



Cosmo's Haiku

My love is measured
By the droplets of the drool
That escape my lips



Saffy's Haiku

The pure ecstasy,
The hiding, crouching, waiting...
To steal Phoebe's food





Phoebe's Haiku

Time feels eternal,
Carefully guarding my food,
Saffy soon descends






My cats write Haiku! Who knew??

My Cat Worked at Taco Bell

Those of you who read this blog know I tend to have somewhat of an untamed imagination. Since I was just a kitten, my family and I loved concocting imaginary scenarios about cats engaged in human activities. Yeah, we are an odd bunch, but now you know my eccentric humor is quite possibly genetic ... oh, and probably comes a little bit from watching too much Monty Python and Mystery Science Theater. Like all of us, I'm a product of nature and nurture (and probably too much coffee).

Anyway, back to my daydreaming about the silly human things I wish my cats would do. Here is one of my recent musings. And please, you must suspend all beliefs about how cats are "supposed" to behave in order to enjoy this ridiculous nugget of absurdity.

I pull up to the Taco Bell drive thru (that's how they spell it, you know) window, and there's Cosmo, handing me a bag of noms, asking if I need hot sauce, and telling me to enjoy my Crunch Wrap Supreme. He does not smile because he is not a smiler. This would eventually lead to multiple verbal and written warnings, and ultimately his pink slip. Angry about his termination, he dramatically jumps over the counter, tosses his refried bean-soiled apron at his boss and yells, "I told you I wasn't a smiler!" He then proceeds to smugly grab a pawful of wrapped straws from the condiment island (to play with later), and takes off into the night.

Seriously. Or maybe not-so-seriously.

A Tale of Cat Shenanigans and Hidden Treasure

I admit to being an OK housekeeper.  My home isn't dirty, but I'm not one who does this furniture-moving business every time I vacuum.  A few times a year when we do move the big comfy chair to clean the layers of cat hair and lost pieces of popcorn (in addition to being an OK housekeeper, I'm also a messy popcorn-eater), we always giggle with anticipation of the trove of cat toys and treasures we'll surely find.

Friends, we were not disappointed in the haul.  Not only did we celebrate the return of a few favorite mice and balls, we also discovered an open, chew-marked bag of treats!  I can only imagine the shenanigans that led up to the display of the attempted pilferage gone terribly wrong.

Certainly Phoebe was involved ... in fact she was most likely the brains behind the operation.  Saffy is a counter-crawler so she probably knocked the bag on the floor.  I'm guessing about that time Cosmo made a move toward the contraband, setting off Phoebe, who lunged forward, digging her teeth into the bag.  At that time, Saffy, a known conflict-avoider, fled the scene.  Thus began a little paw-to-paw combat between large, yet awkward Cosmo and small, but shrewd Phoebe.  I'm sure the treat bag made its way up and down the stairs, was slid across the bathroom linoleum, and was tossed in and out of boxes and cat hidey holes until it finally met its final (and unreachable) resting place under the comfy chair.

Yes, I'm certain that's exactly how it happened.

Frequently-Flushed Toilet Water? Yay!!

Cats have such strange little quirks. I often think about how people might react if I picked up some of those odd feline behaviors. I'm around my cats enough; it's possible. Yeah, yeah...here she goes again with the whole "human-acting-as-cat" routine. Hey, while the rest of the country is watching Dancing With the Stars or CSI-something-or-other, this is what runs through my mind. I venture to say it's better than most primetime entertainment.

When I change the litter box, at least one cat is hot on my heels, ready to unleash upon the fresh potty particles. What if, when I heard a toilet flush, I raced to the bathroom door, eager to be the first to utilize the newly-flushed toilet water?

My Phoebe will only eat if we move her food around a little or "fluff it." What if I were on a business lunch and asked my dining partner to shift my salad around my plate a bit? Would that be weird?

Often, my cats completely disregard a brand new, expensive toy in favor of a plastic pen cap or dusty milk jug ring. What if my husband bestowed a gorgeous diamond upon my finger and I completely ignored it, instead reaching for a twist tie from a bag of moldy old bagels?

Maybe I need to start watching Dancing With the Stars ...

Why a Cat is Better Than Housework

I'm sure I'm preaching to the choir here, but I just want to go on record as saying cats are waaaay better than housework. And yes, I'm prepared to plead my case:


#1: I think it would be a little uncomfortable and stinky to snuggle a mop or toilet brush. Gross.

#2: A cat is warm and fuzzy. A dirty bathtub is cold and maybe fuzzy, but not in a good way.

#3: I'd much rather fold my body around a cat than fold laundry. Consequently, the cat would rather let the laundry go unfolded as well.

#4: I prefer the purr of a cat to the purr of a vacuum cleaner.

#5: Going online to pay bills? Why not go online and look at cute cat videos? Why yes -- yes I will, thank you very much.

What Are My Cats Really Thinking?

Originally Posted 5/19/09

My cats amuse me on so many levels. I especially love it when they simply stand and stare at ... nothing. You know exactly what I'm talking about, right? They appear completely zoned-out, stuck on a layover in feline-la-la-land. My favorite position for this meditative pose is when they stare at a blank wall. What do they see? Are they visualizing a fresh paint job? Perhaps they are focusing their telekinetic powers to create a hole in the wall so they can escape to the outdoors, eat lots of grass and throw up on my entryway rug. Or maybe their thoughts are much like Homer Simpson's...you know, hula dancers and old timey cartoons of cows on a see-saw. Here are a few thought bubbles that I'm certain are floating above the fuzzy brows of my kit-kats:

Phoebe: I'd really like a good, long sniff of Cosmo's butt right now.

Cosmo: Is it possible to somehow open the cabinet doors above the fridge and confiscate the treat jar? Better ask for Phoebe's help on this one.

Saffy: Can I somehow slip my large, sheep-like grey body past Mom and Dad and eat the rest of Phoebe's breakfast?

Phoebe: Why does Saffy always eat my breakfast?

Cosmo: My mouth feels especially moist today.

Saffy: *cartoon mice on a see-saw*

Phoebe: I hope the humans don't find my secret stash of stolen bracelets and Little Debbies.

Cosmo: Why does the boy-child insist on holding me like a doll? I wish there were magical, free treat dispensers located in each room of this house. I wonder what Mama's doing right now. I hope she's buying that baby Snugli to carry me in. I love her so much. My mouth is really moist.

Saffy: I'm hungry. I wonder if there are any goodies on the kitchen counter. Does Phoebe have any breakfast left over in her bowl? I think I feel a hair ball coming on. *cartoon mice on a see-saw*.

Phoebe: Cosmo is in the other room and I can still smell his butt. Yum.

Cats: The Worst Joke Tellers Ever

Originally posted Jun. 1, 2011

Lack of attention span makes cats the worst joke tellers ever.

Cat: Knock-knock

Human: Who's there?

Cat: Orange

Human: Orange who?

Cat: Knock knock

Human: Who's there?

Cat: Orange

Human: Orange who?

*silence*

Human: Orange who??

*silence*

Human: Hey -- where'd you go?  What's the rest of the joke?

*sound of cat licking butt*

Human: So sorry to disturb you...

Cats With Saddlebags? Why Not?

Originally posted 1/6/11

I adore my cats, but they are so … lazy.  Seriously, how many hours of shut-eye do these nap-happy felines need? I sometimes think about how much I’d enjoy their company even more if they could make more practical contributions to the household.  After all, they are domesticated, right?

• You know that cute little kneading they do with their paws when they are purring?  How about kneading me up some fresh bread? Of course I’d require that they wear custom-fitted plastic gloves…and perhaps a whisker net.

• I could fit my cats with adorable, yet functional saddlebags.  They could retrieve the mail, bring me the remote control, or even fetch me a piece of the delicious homemade bread.

• Their paws are certainly small enough to swipe-clean those hard-to-reach areas underneath the stove and refrigerator. 

• Great mouse-hunting skills?  Round up my lost car keys and then we’ll talk.

• Their excellent climbing skills and ability to squeeze into small places make them the perfect candidates for maneuvering through the boxes in the crawl space and retrieving the tubs of Christmas decorations.

• Since they don’t mind putrid smells, how about changing a diaper or two or disposing of that 6-week old Indian food in the back of the fridge?

See…there are a plethora of prospects for these lackadaisical loaves, if only they were willing participants.  Until then, I shall retrieve my own mail, drag out my own holiday décor, and maybe even learn to make homemade bread (or not). 

Saffy wants to help Mama. Really she does.

  

Midnight Yoga

Because of my "sleeping" experience in the wee hours of the morning, I thought I'd repost one of my very first blog entries. This one is from January of 2009. I'm sure you can relate.


When I signed on to share my life with multiple cats, I proceeded with a few simple presuppositions:

1. I'd need extra litter boxes
2. More cats = more food bowls
3. I'd start pricing an external hard drive to house all the extra cat photos

All of my expectations were met and, in addition, I suddenly found myself a student in a midnight yoga class for which I don't remember registering. As my cats constantly stretch and switch their placement, they force me to braid my body into the most awkward and arduous positions. While my husband enjoys a first class ticket to Snoozeville, these fuzzy-footed yogis quietly coach me into a host of peculiar poses:


Pose #1 = Hamstring Hullabaloo: The cats like this one because of the inferred pork connotation.


















Pose #2: The Running Man: the benefit of this pose is added back warmth on cold nights; the drawback is Cosmo's happy drool soaking through the back of my jammie top.



















Pose #3: The Cat Tree of Life: An extra cat is added and the felines enjoy the spiritual unity of this pose. Note to self: purr-guided meditation does not relieve the painful charley horses garnered from this position.


















Pose #4: The Angle Tangle: The pillow is catnapped, allowing the neck to enjoy hours of unfettered (*cough* uncomfortable *cough*) pleasure (*cough* agony *cough*) and the opportunity to visualize the halting of the imminent headache.


















Pose #5: Full Sofa Recline: After hours of maintaining body-bending poses, I retreat to this pose for a few hours of uninterrupted slumber.















Who knew sharing my home with multiple cats would be such a stretch?



Catladyland is a finalist in the Funniest Blog or Blogger category in the Dogtime's 2012 Pettie Awards! Last year we won and donated the cash award to Feline Rescue, Inc. If we win this year, we will donate it Kitten Associates! You can vote once per day, every day! Thank you!

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Freshly-Flushed Toilet Water! Yay!!

Cats have such strange little quirks. I often think about how people might react if I picked up some of those odd feline behaviors. I'm around my cats enough; it's possible. Yeah, yeah...here she goes again with the whole "human-acting-as-cat" routine. Hey...while the rest of the country is watching Dancing With the Stars or CSI-something-or-other, this is what runs through my mind. I venture to say it's better than most primetime entertainment.

When I change the litter box, at least one cat is hot on my heels, ready to unleash upon the fresh potty particles. What if, when I heard a toilet flush, I raced to the bathroom door, eager to be the first to utilize the newly-flushed toilet water?

My Phoebe will only eat if we move her food around a little or "fluff it." What if I were on a business lunch and asked my dining partner to shift my salad around my plate a bit? Would that be weird?

Often, my cats completely disregard a brand new, expensive toy in favor of a plastic pen cap or dusty milk jug ring. What if my husband bestowed a gorgeous diamond upon my finger and I completely ignored it, instead reaching for a twist tie from a bag of moldy old bagels?

Maybe I need to start watching Dancing With the Stars...

My Cat Worked At Taco Bell...For a While, Anyway

Those of you who read this blog know I tend to have somewhat of an untamed imagination. Since I was just a kitten, my family and I loved concocting imaginary scenarios about cats engaged in human activities. Yeah, we are an odd bunch, but now you know my eccentric humor is quite possibly genetic...oh, and probably comes a little bit from watching too much Monty Python and Mystery Science Theater. Like all of us, I'm a product of nature and nurture (and probably too much coffee).

Anyway, back to my daydreaming about the silly human things I wish my cats would do. Here is one of my recent musings. And please, you must suspend all beliefs about how cats are "supposed" to behave in order to enjoy this ridiculous nugget of absurdity.

I pull up to the Taco Bell drive thru (that's how they spell it, you know) window, and there's Cosmo, handing me a bag of noms, asking if I need hot sauce, and telling me to enjoy my Crunch Wrap Supreme. He does not smile because he is not a smiler. This would eventually lead to multiple verbal and written warnings, and ultimately his pink slip. Angry about his termination, he dramatically jumps over the counter, tosses his refried bean-soiled apron at his boss and yells, "I told you I wasn't a smiler!" He then proceeds to smugly grab a pawful of wrapped straws from the condiment island (to play with later), and takes off into the night.

Seriously. Or maybe not-so-seriously.

Human Having Cat Thoughts

Here we are with another installment of "What If Humans Had Cat Thoughts?" 

Conversation With My Cat

Me: So...

Phoebe: Soooooo...

Me: What's new?

*silence*

Me: I said, what's new? Are you even listening to me? Open your eyes and look at me.

*silence*

Me: I saw your tail flick. Sometimes you are so rude.

Phoebe: And sometimes you sound like a jackal when you laugh. Goodnight.