Our deaf white cat has her own special "fish watching" stool, aka, one I put near enough for her to see the fish, but not so close as to encourage jumping on the tanks, our foster kittens at the moment do that more than enough for all the rest of the felines combined.
Siamese have a long standing warrior tradition (were used as battle cats by some Buddhist monks, neat stuff actually), seems however, size category gargantuan is still an issue, ever for brave siamese, hope Menu was ok after her first cat in flight trip. Cow ='s most definitely not dogs!
Could you source this? That would be an interesting read. I can't find any mention of it when resorting to Google.
here is a link I found with historical citing of "battle Siamese"
/pet-cat/0iyij-understand-siamese-cats-originally-larger.html#re.v/417/
I know there are more articles out there, but are hard to come by.
Uh...that link took me to "Just Answer.com". Here's a fixed link.
That "article" doesn't really offer any concrete answers, though. Are you sure it's not an urban legend?
I will confer with my publishing co-owner, he actually came across the article somewhere.
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One of our foster kittens had discovered he has the compression special ability. Seems Daniel Tiger (my wife named him,she works in daycare, go figure, as Daniel Tiger is originally from Mr. Rogers) our disturbingly cute DMH red tiger male can fit under the bathroom door. Funny how he hates being watched to ensure he uses the litter box the correct way, but loves bothering me when I am wet and without my human fur (clothes).
Some kittens have no respect these days I tell ya, no respect!
Yep, funny how ferrets and cats share that power, often with similar results.
@ KC, still looking for those articles, I swear they exist somewhere.
True story, my first cat, who we have talked about before, Motor Head, decided on summer day to climb all the way to the top of our power pole behind the house, and sit at the very top and sleep. Unlike every other cat after him that I have had, Motor was able to get back down on his own with no issues. Some cats seem to have problems climbing back down trees and power poles, but not Motor Head, an anti-gravity cat who was before his time!
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True story, my first cat, who we have talked about before, Motor Head, decided on summer day to climb all the way to the top of our power pole behind the house, and sit at the very top and sleep. Unlike every other cat after him that I have had, Motor was able to get back down on his own with no issues. Some cats seem to have problems climbing back down trees and power poles, but not Motor Head, an anti-gravity cat who was before his time!
When I was growing up, our cats were allowed outside in the back yard. The back yard was fenced on the sides, but we were on a river and the yard opened to the water. A dog got into the yard, and chased one of our cats into a tree, and she stayed up there for about 18 hours. She didn't come down until another one of our cats climbed the tree and batted at her until she came down.
Cats helping cats get out of trees, in true catty fashion, I like it!
ROTFLMAO
YES, that is friggin great. That makes me feel better about the time one of our foster kittens ensured a horrible death for one of my Elder Scrolls: Skyrim characters. Jumped onto keyboard and blocked monitor just as a group of angry vampires arrived hunting my. I am good, but I am not THAT good, sight is required.
(also, we went Elder Scrolls VI: Black Marsh or Elsweyr!!!)
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Bonzer is always "helping" me type. He'll jump up on the desk, look sagely at the screen, and then very deliberately hit one or more keys and hold them down. Then, with an air of great satisfaction for a job well done, he jumps down and preens himself.
Generally, his input is useful, like correcting "The report will be submitted within 30 days" to "The report will be SSSSHGJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ. " This obviously reduces word count and eliminates a potential scheduling problem.
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Bonzer is clearly typing at 100+ words a minute with 0% errors, according to Mavis Beacon teaches typing.
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Well yes Sammy has killed me more times in games than I can remember. I told you she loves being on my keyboard when I am on the computer... If I happen to be in combat when she arrives, then my poor character meets an untimely end; even bad ass commander Shepard was a casualty a number of times. The word of advice, save frequently because cat difficulty level is harder than insanity difficulty.
Well said, and sage advice Aranna.
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Although that reminds me of the time Sammy played my character into a romance I had no intention of starting in Dragon Age 2. She had arrived during some part where you sit and listen, so unwisely I figured she couldn't hurt anything and got up for a soda... I came back to find my character hitting on the elf with the lyrium tattoos. I swear she did that deliberately... Rotten cat.
Having the monitor buttons on the bottom edge of the screen is great for having one of the cats turn the whole monitor off & on whenever it pleases them, with just a tail swish!
Whomever designed it made them as sensitive as they could.
I've heard rumors that there are cat/paw proof keyboards or software to restrict their access, but I think such things only exist in some fantasy world.
I recall keyboard lock is a thing that can be done, not sure about the software though, that would just be too easy :).
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They only want to do things to the computer when you are using the computer.
What good is a keyboard lock while you are using it, or only gone for a FEW seconds, of course a FEW seconds is all they need to hijack your character and send him/her over the abyss that was on the other side of the freaking planet!
In all honesty, I do not allow our cats into my office, which is where my computer (and all of my expensive, breakable, or dangerous) stuff is. Of course, the cats only head to the keyboard of my laptop when I bring it down stairs to the couch to play video games while still spending time with the wife.
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In all honesty, I do not allow our cats into my office, which is where my computer (and all of my expensive, breakable, or dangerous) stuff is.
Sadly, in my case, my cats can open latched doors.
Just wait until they can use advanced technology, well, more reliably anyway, they sort of "use" it already, just with different results than when we do. :)
I shudder to think what would happen if a cat got into that room, as it is full of every TSR/WotC novel ever written, a dozen combat ready, fully edged swords and daggers, a mace, longbows, castle and lotR's legos, my ren fair gear, my comics, my fossil and natural crystal formation collection, etc.
hmm, maybe time to install an eye hook and latch system, just in case the door knob ever fails (it is a house from 1929 with original fittings, it already has happened to other doors in the house).
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I got a cheap full-sized USB keyboard with light-up keys several years ago that my previous cat, Kai (tuxedo Maine Coon/Manx), used to enjoy sneezing on (previously) and sleeping on. I don't have a desktop PC anymore, so now I have it parked in front of my TV and plugged it into an old USB hub I had laying around. If the TV is on and I talk to her occasionally, Summer (orange tabby shorthair) will lay on it and eventually fall asleep, even though it isn't connected to a PC. If I forget to talk to her, she will eventually come over to where I am with my old notebook PC and try to stand on the keys until I give up and give her attention.
Our very large Russian blue, who was my wife and I's first cat, is afraid of all of the following:
The vacuum cleaner, be it on or off.
Any spray bottle, empty or not.
Kittens, tortoises, and dogs.
Vibrating cell phones.
Being outside.
He really is a scare'dy cat. Annoyingly, he is a bully towards one of our other cats. Sometimes I wish she (a black DSH named Emily) would learn how to use a spray bottle, then she could stick up for herself (Bastian only bothers her when we are not around, of course).
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At 5:00am this morning, I discovered that apparently my purpose (according to our foster kittens) is to serve as a platform for them to fight gladiatorial combats. Sufficed to say, now I am sleepy and not well rested, being the kitten Colosseum is hard work!
YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
In the spirit of good cheer and Yule, I hope everyone will share tales of their cats destroying Xmas trees, gifts, etc.
There is a reason why we do not put up a real Christmas tree around my house.
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Nazgul has decided that all the name tags belong to him, as does ANY tissue paper he can see.
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In the spirit of good cheer and Yule, I hope everyone will share tales of their cats destroying Xmas trees, gifts, etc.
There is a reason why we do not put up a real Christmas tree around my house.
I don't own a tree and having two cats is one of the big reasons why.
I have not been over to my parents' place since they put theirs up, so I'm curious if their dogs have made a mess of it or if they've behaved themselves.
Let me hazard a guess Orthos that your parents have terriers perhaps? The little buggers are notorious for destroying stuff.
Nope. A Corgi/Collie mutt, two pureblood Boxers, a Boxer/Black Lab mutt, and a Pointer/Blue Heeler mutt. The Lab tends to be the destructive one - he's huge sizewise, but only barely over a year old so still very much in puppy mindset - followed by the Boxers. The other two are really well behaved, but they're also the older ones.
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We have a serious mouse problem in my trailer. It's not as bad as when I moved in, and during that time I'd set mousetraps around the house in spots where I don't want Milo to go, or where I really don't want to pull out the furniture. I'd put one in the ensuite bathroom closet. The door gap is close to 2 inches on this door. Sometimes the mousetraps catch the mice in awkward positions and they don't die right away. One morning I woke up and Milo was doing the "Look at me! Look at me! Look what I caught!" dance. I went over to see what he was so proud of. There was a mouse in a mousetrap in the middle of my floor. I was like, "Good job special needs cat!"
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"Well done, my feline child. One day you too may be as great a hunter as this piece of wood and spooled metal."
"You must study hard, you must train hard, but your paw will one day strike with the speed of the mighty mousetrap, you must but focus you kitten ki. Pounce or pounce not, there is no chase."
(blast, my misbehaving dog senses have failed me)
Two more foster kittens adopted out, new Siamutt to socialize, the feline work never ends.
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My furry murderfriends--who are indoor cats, by the way, who never leave the apartment but can get out onto my 2nd-floor balcony if I don't close the glass doors because the screen door doesn't latch--were killing 2-3 birds a day until it got cold enough to keep the door shut.
Murdercat #1 sits on the table, and as the birds do a fly-through scouting for food among my plants, she jumps 3-4 feet into the air, smacks them down as they fly down like she's spiking a volleyball, then as they lie on the floor of the balcony, stunned, she jumps down and breaks their necks.
It all takes place in probably under 10 seconds.
Most of the time, she then brings the corpse in to show me, necessitating a Midnight Gravedigging Excursion where I go out with my spade and bury the body under the bush outside my apartment building.
Sometimes, though, before she can get down and finish the bird off, Murdercat #2, who is fluffy inside and out and came equipped with no survival skills or coping mechanisms beyond purring, will nip in there and grab the still-living bird. Sometimes she deposits it on her food tray (snack for later!) and sometimes she takes it up to the top of her cat tree and curls up with it and cuddles. Then I have to carefully extricate the poor, terrified thing without triggering her grabby reflex and take it outside to the OTHER bush--the Recovery bush rather than the Charnel House bush.
The other night, I got home from work, and Murdercat #1 was waiting in the front hall with a bird she seemed to assume I would eat for dinner. I thanked her and went into the bathroom to get stuff to clean it up with, only to discover that I'd left the toilet lid up and there was a dead bird in the toilet.
I... don't understand. Maybe they felt that one was defective?
Another night, I was sitting on my couch reading and this ball of fur and claws and wings rolled through the living room and kept going into the bathroom. I got up to find Murdercat #1 in the bathtub, struggling with a bird that was only a little smaller than a crow. (Which is to say, almost as big as she is.) It gave her some trouble, but she eventually finished it off, and the cleanup was easy because... bathtub. She's very considerate that way. She'd put down plastic if she could. She's basically Dexter. So I appreciated the thoughtfulness there.
Anyway, I put up netting to keep the birds off the balcony, but my murderfriends shredded it. Right now I'm stuck with just keeping them off the balcony entirely.
My life is blood and feathers.
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Sometimes she deposits it on her food tray (snack for later!) and sometimes she takes it up to the top of her cat tree and curls up with it and cuddles.
...that is messed up.
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Heavy duty pet screen does wonders, the stuff is really quite strong (I replaced our sliding screen door screen with it 8 years ago, and cats have not yet even damaged it, despite climbing it often over those 8 years).
I dare say Jessica has earned triple cat points with "charnel bush" and "recovery bush." I whole hearted approve.
On a related note, I know know what the sound of brain damaged woodpecker sounds like, it is horrible and heart wrenching. Seems a cat (I am looking at you, Big Mama Misty, slayer of all that is furred and feathered) put a hole in the poor things skull, but left it alive enough to screech for 4 hours, until I had to go deal with it, as the pitiful wailing was too much.
I guess it really does pay to have a Dexter style murderfriend, less mess and still flopping victim disposal. (ok, just realized this sounds terrible out of context.)
Todays story, Yeti found in Western NY!!
Big Mama Misty (the afore mentioned fluffy gray hunting cat of doom) has mastered the art of getting covered in snow just enough to very much resemble a yeti. I feel bad because she also looked a bit pathetic when the snow melted, but she looks hilarious. I should have taken a picture. The wife and I are nice people, so after laughing for a bit, we dried Misty off so she was not cold, wet, and sad looking.
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On a related note, I know know what the sound of brain damaged woodpecker sounds like, it is horrible and heart wrenching. Seems a cat (I am looking at you, Big Mama Misty, slayer of all that is furred and feathered) put a hole in the poor things skull, but left it alive enough to screech for 4 hours, until I had to go deal with it, as the pitiful wailing was too much.
cat did that to send a message. The other woodpeckers won't be late with their payments from now on.
::gasp:: Big Mama Misty is a mob enforcer, I should have guessed, with all the shaking down of woodpeckers and squirrels.
What is next, catnip smuggling, counterfeit furry mice, where does it all end....!?
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Catital crimes.
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Do you get the rocking chair for those?
After a hard days work, nothing like coming home and giving your cats catnip. Last night we did just that, and Big Mama Misty (the fluffy gray huntress of doom) used all her fluffiness to adhere as much catnip to herself as she should, I now call her "herb crusted", it amuses me anyway, not sure how she feels about it, she was to busy being a blissed out 'nip junky" all sprawled out on the floor purring and looking both silly and addicted.
My cat Max (well, nominally my cat; he's pretty much adopted my eldest stepdaughter now) picks up his Purina in his paw and puts it in the water dish. Every single time.
Of course, he doesn't use the water dish for anything except that. He won't drink from anything that's not running water. He's gotten too old to jump up to the bathroom sink anymore, though he can still get down by himself; so now he yowls until one of us picks him up and puts him there.
Sadly, Max's kidneys gave out yesterday, and we had to put him to sleep. :-(
Rest in peace, grey fuzzball.