the cats whiskers

I am what some people call a "cat person".
One day I will be the crazy old bird who lives with thirty and is found dead having been consumed by her own pussy.

Having recently read a couple of pet related posts I thought I'd write one myself.

It's not that I don't like dogs, I would love to have a Jack Russell, but it's not fair to leave a dog alone all day.
I grew to love Jacks because my sister used to have one, she was a grumpy old thing (the dog not the sister) with a worse case of the mentalpause then me but such a character.
Should that be mentalpaws ?
When son was little we sometimes had her for the week-end, and she very quickly learnt the things he did that always caused me to shout at him. The end result being that as soon as she heard him kick his shoes down the stairs she would run out and bark at him before I had a chance to shout.
I learnt to watch the TV for any adverts that had the sound of a doorbell. Because if she heard one I would have to get up and pretend to open the front door to get her to stop barking.

My sister used to make matching hats for her boyfriend and the dog.
(I know what you're thinking, and yeah madness runs in the family).
One day I got chatting to a little old lady at a bus stop who had a Jack Russell and she told me that she had seen the funniest thing while walking her dog on the common. A man and a dog wearing the same hats.
I didn't tell her.

My Dad also has a Jack. Sometimes she wears my glasses.

Meet Daisy, I think she thinks it makes her look intelligent.

A cat doesn't care if you're out all day, in fact a cat prefers it when you are because then it doesn't have to share the bed / sofa / heating with you.
It only needs you to be there to feed it - in fact mine seem to be under the illusion that I only come home because they're hungry since as soon I get in the door I am expected to fill the food dish before I have taken my coat off.

Even if Son came home half an hour before and fed them.

Maybe I should show them this. As a threat.

I think those people who assume that their predisposition to perform tricks means that dogs are cleverer then cats are wrong.
I think it means they are smarter.

And don't feel the need to please or impress anyone, as the world revolves around them since they are the superior species.
Most cats think they are in fact the cats whiskers.
I have known cats that will fetch a favourite toy, and had cats that worked out how to open a door or window, and not just those that involve a push. The cat we had when I was a kid would stand on the bottom bolt of our back door and hook one paw through the handle whilst banging on the catch with the other one, at the same time he would kind of push his weight against the door until it opened.

For weeks my Mum was moaning at me and my sister for leaving the door open.
Until the day she heard it being banged and saw what the cat was doing.

When you want to teach your dog a trick it thinks "I best learn this because it makes my master happy", when a cat wants to learn something (and a cat learns a trick because it wants to - not because you want it to) it thinks "What's in it for me".
And if the answers nothing then forget it.
Who needs a cat treat when you can catch a mouse.
In fact often it's the cat that thinks the human needs a treat. You learnt to feed me so here, have a dead bird, you deserve it.

Of course just because your cat doesn't need you doesn't mean it's not going to make you pay if it feels you have let it down.
I used to have a little silver tortoise shell, her routine was to come on my bed in the morning while I was drinking my coffee for a fuss. Whether I wanted to fuss her or not.
Then I got a job that meant I was away a week at a time.
Eventually I had to put a lock on my bedroom door because her way of pissing me off showing her displeasure at me for going away was to leave a turd curled up in the middle of my bed.
The night before I came home.
Once I left that job all was fine and I no longer needed to lock the door, but when I went on holiday I came home to find a runny turd IN MY HANDBAG !!
It went straight in the bin - contents too. There might've been money in that bag but I wasn't going to look.

A couple of years ago, by which time I had another three male cats, it became very obvious that she was not happy. She hardly ate and started to look very ragged - even though the vet could find nothing wrong with her - so a friend said she would take her. Within a week she was looking happy and healthy again, obviously she wanted to be the only cat.
About a month later the same friend told me she had gone away for a week-end and came home to find a "present" on her bed.
I laughed and told her to check her bags.
Maybe I should've warned her. . .

I'm not one of those people who thinks her pets are children, but I do love them. I mentioned a few posts ago that we have recently lost one.
His name was Nelson.
Because he was a black cat Son had wanted to name him after a famous black person and I didn't want a cat called Tupac.

A few days ago Son informed me that he thought we should get another cat, as he had a dream and Nelson (he was very devoted to Son) had told him it was fine.
I said I would, but not just yet, and that when I did it would be a female.
"Ok, but we are going to call it Naomi"
"Why ?"
"Because that is Nelson Mandelas daughters name"
"Is it, how do you know that ?"
"Naomi Campbell, she's his daughter"

I'm sure I don't know where he gets his brains from.

My second favourite tshirt. 

My favourite one says "I'd like to fuck your brains out but you don't have any". A statement that is only backed up by the amount of men who read the first bit and get sleazy without bothering to read the rest.

When Son was about seven I adopted a black and white cat from a friend of a friend as it's owners were living in a third floor flat. What they failed to mention was that this cat was not neutered. The huge furry bollocks it possessed were a source of fascination to Son, who would lift up the cats tail and show his friends.
"Look, my cat has huge nuts ".
However the huge furry bollocks also meant that the cat was spraying in the house and so they had to come off.
I explained about this to Son, as he was certainly going to notice when they weren't there anymore, that the cat was going to have an operation to remove them.

The dogs bollocks ? Nah cat's are bigger.

A few weeks later Son went for a check up on his eye, he had been born with a slight squint and the treatment was to wear an eye patch for a couple of hours a day on the good eye to strengthen the other one. It was checked every month, the plan being that when there was no further improvement for three months he would have an operation to correct it.
As it turned out this appointment was the one where he reached that stage, and so after the usual eye tests we had to go and speak to the surgeon.

So there we are sat in this very posh mans office and he says,
"So young man I think it's time we brought you in for a little operation"
At which Son jumps up, grabs his crotch and says,
"You're not cutting my nuts off".

I had to explain about the cats operation.

If you really wanted to see a post about my actual cats then here's one I made earlier.