Monday, March 14, 2011

My furwads...

I don't have kids, so this post will be about the next best thing to me. Furkids. Yes, I am that nuts. My cats are my proof to myself that I could mother something without accidentally starving it. Unfortunately, this has created an odd behavior by my cats. They are absolutely certain that they are human. They have evolved ways to do things that normal (non-human) cats should not be able to do.

Although my house does have a friendly "house-spirit" named George, the cats had me convinced for months that my house was haunted. Doors would open by themselves, cabinets would be wide open for no reason, things would crash in another room when all the cats were with get the idea. So I decided to play ghost
detective. I ended up detecting that I am just not very observant. If I had been paying attention, I would have noticed a paw curling around the door and pulling it open. Or the cat entering from a not-quite-closed cabinet door, and exiting the door that was left wide open. Or the cat daintily prancing along the top of a cabinet, just slightly nudging things right to the edge, ready to fall at the slightest jar.

So yes. Instead of figuring out my cats were genius, I decided to proclaim my house haunted for several months. Now if only George would stop watching me shower!

I guess I should tell you all a bit about my cats. Moonshadow (Moonie to those of us who know him best) is our 12 year old formerly feral tom cat. He's sneaky, but melts like butter when you pet him just right. He also has a stare that could force a starving person to give them his last crumb. Even after you just watched him snarf down two scoops of cat food. He used to be very that I mean he was "uncut" and raring to go. He managed to knock up the neighbor cat before we took him in to get fixed. (He's a neuter more yowling!) And thats how we ended up with:

Icarus. Though he is genetically Moonie's son, he has none of Moonie's skills. I believe he may be mentally retarded or at the least mentally unstable. Can cats be bipolar? He is the most sweet and loving big orange furball to most everyone. Unless he hates you. He seems to make this decision at will, with no explanation. Except for my mother. ALL the cats want nothing to do with her. His only problem is that he has an effeminate look, meow, and hiss. It's like Elton John in a fursuit. Hyttthhhh, Hyttttthhh. We had him neutered before puberty, so he got stuck with a kitten's meow. Mew....MEWWWW...Hyttthhh... You get the idea. Sometimes I piss him off just to get a laugh at his ridiculous noises. He's also vain. As a long haired cat, he needs a bit more maintenance than the other two. He loves nothing more than to spread his generous bulk out on the floor and lick his no longer manly parts. It's quite the entertaining show watching him try to stretch his head far enough over his "fluff" to get to the parts he's trying to lick. He was the baby of the family for the last 2 years, so he still (at 20 pounds) tries to curl up on my chest. (Until I begin to asphyxiate and shove him off my face. Nothing like waking to cat butt in the morning!

And then there's Hazel. She is simply clueless. Hopelessly stupid. Doesn't even know cat's don't like water. But at least she's cute. That'll get her by. As the only (spayed) female in the bunch, we figured she'd level out the testosterone party the other two were having. No such luck. She walked her 8 week old booty into our house and hearts, and promptly took over. She owns the place. (Probably due to the fact the other two are too high up for her to reach by jumping...) She has figured out how to climb, and has taken to scaling the curtains, wallhangings, towels, and even once tried to scale the toilet paper. Yeah, that didn't work so well for her. She's dunked herself in a full tub TWICE and still is fascinated with playing in water from the side of the tub. I love her so much though. She's like a feline Gloria Steinem...out to show the "man's" world what a woman deserves. And apparently she needs to eat her body weight in food daily to achieve that. She will eat ANYTHING. Except popsicles. She is terrified of popsicles. I think it goes back to conception. I wonder if she was the cat at the back of the womb. That would probably make me scared of popsicles too. She loves ice cream though, so we have to guard it like Fort Knox. Like most every other food in the house. We should have named her Hoover Houdini.

Anyway, that's the furkids...special in many ways, and absolutely the center of my to Mr. Kat Lady of course...

Until next time----
-Kat Lady