Cat Saga Continued:

I consider myself to be an attentive cat owner. I pet them, play with them, and feed and water them, as needed. Now you would think this would be enough to keep them happy and satified. You would think that they would appreciate all of the attention and care to the point of being fat lazy happy cats who only meow at you in order to praise you with thanks and contentment. This is not the case. No not even close to the case. Castor, the make cat, the smart one, he meows at me the second my feet hit the ground in the morning. Not just a friendly, happy, meow; more like a death threat. Its the deep Roooowr and staring you straight in the eyes kind of meow that tells me he is abso-fuckin-lutly displeased about something. Being the caretaker I am, I rush out of the bedroom and look at his box (clean), his water dispenser (full and clean), his food dish (half full but available nourishment present). So i dismiss it as perhaps he has bad gas? Or he is not happy with the way my hair was standing up when I first woke up. But he followes me to the kitchen while I try to pour my coffee, follows me into every room of the house throwing himself under my feet. Throwing himself in such a way that he resembles a football player trying to sack the quarterback. It is truly alarming behavior. I am left with the feeling that he is trying to get rid of me in a completly random household accident.

Cops would arrive and find me impaled on a broken cup of coffee and my cat standing on my chest meowing at me like I would be getting up soon to do his bidding. Most cats wont look you in the eye for any length of time, some wont do it at all. Its a respect thing. In nature it is a sign of dominance and ownership. This cat clearly believes he owns me because he WILL NOT look away, ever. He will wait till your eyes are dry and you are slamming the table with your fists in an attempt to take your mind off the fact that your eyes are drying up in their sockets and shriveling up and close to just dropping out.

Another recently discovered peculiar behavior of his is eating as much as he possibly can and vomiting it up in the middle of my hallway or living room, going back eating more and repeating the process as quickly as possible and then complaining to me that his bowl is empty. I know he is not sick, he is a strapping young healthy cat, he is energetic and has had all his shots. he definatly is not sick, but he most certainly is bulemic. Or perhaps he just does it so he can meow more at me, I dont know. Im looking at him right now, no shit, he is eating again.

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You might be wondering what this little guy looks like, so I will provide a picture to help you visualize this. See? Looks like an angel, acts like a devil. He is indeed my cat. more to come.

Continuing Saga: My Cats

So it has been a while since I have told you about anything new in my life, my normal average daily life. To be honest I have not had a lot to complain about, but guess what? I do now.

Let me explain to you first that I love my two cats dearly. Their names are Castor and Gigi. Now, Castor is named Castor because he had a twin brother named Pollux. Castor and Pollux, you know, the star constellation? Yeah I thought it was cute and thier personalities matched the myth as well as the whole twin part. Unfortunatly a long while back, we lost Pollux to F.I.P. Very sad. So sad in fact, I made a silent pronmise to myself not to get anymore cats. Until one day when my co-worker came in and told me that she was going to get rid of her cat, Gigi. Now... I would NEVER name my god damned cat Gigi. Ever. It just reaks of pretention and high maintanence, two things you do not want in a cat. But she was nothing like that when I first saw her. In fact she was very very shy, to the point you honestly had to wonder if she had be horribly beaten (Now I presume she was, or locked in a closet, or something tragic). I will say that with a few years of complete pampering and total love she is not even close to being the same cat as when I met her. I have several (HA! several? who am I trying to kid?) friends who will vouge for this. Anyhow... let me get this story going.

Castor is a very smart cat. He has shown remarkable problem solving skills, reasoning skills and even verbal skills. He can open doors, cabinets, and just about anything his paw can reach. He has learned to use his paw like a hand, which I think he got the idea from Gigi but expounded on it and now can grab anything he wishes. Gigi on the other hand is dumber than a fence post. She does your typical cat things like, chases her tail, forgets she has been living with Castor for the past 4 or 5 years and attacks HIM if she sees another cat. Doesnt remember where the litter box is. And she has a pretty goofy expression on her face at all times. It does not help that she has one tooth that will not stop growing and hangs out of the side of her mouth. Makes her kind of look like a saber tooth, which is our nickname for her. I have a sarcastic name for her that my girlfriend does not like, GiGenius. Yes, I thought it was funny too! So now that you have a little back ground on these two, I will tell you what an average day is like with them.

Upon awakening to a beautiful morning, both cats wait for me in the hall leading to the coffee pot. They know without a doubt this is where I will be heading. Having just woken up I am grouchy, angry and usually on the edge of what I like to call "Burst Violence". That tedious balance between being in control and completly out of control of your actions after waking up. And this is one facet of human nature that the cats do not understand or fear. You would think after thousands of years of natural selection, genetic survival and encoding, that domesticated cats would have adapted to this phenomena and noticed the warning signs. Well... they havent. Because as I walk down the hall towards my blessed coffee pot, the meowing starts. Not just happy go lucky, normal meowing. Not the kind that says "Hey, hello there, Hi im your cat and good morning to you" or "What a beautiful morning, go get your coffee, we'll talk later." no no no, nothing so pleasant. It is something more akin to "Hey you fat fuck! Feed me, I can see the bottom of my food bowl and its pissing me off! DO IT NOW!" or "Hey fuck face!, you going to get a job today or sit on your ass and ignore me all day?" This is where I take deep breaths and kindly tell them to Shut the fuck up. Of course I am well aware the food bowl is full, that the water dish is full and they have just been petted and cuddled by my girlfriend only mere moments before she left for work. So possibly, the only reason for this loud, desperate meowing is to confuse me or upset me. I do finally reach the sweet salvation of my coffee pot despite the deliberate way in which both cats throw themselfs in front of my walking feet in an obvious and purposeful attempt of tripping me. I do not know why they want me to trip, perhaps it is so then can more easily reach the soft fleshy tissues of my face in order to rip them out and devour them. Whatever the case they ALMOST always fail at this, something they will have to co-ordinate and work at if they hope to achieve any level of success in the future. Make no mistake, if it is their intent, they will master this art and soon I will be defeated. At which point I can only hope someone discovers my half eaten corpse before the digestive enzymes and flesh eating bacterias burst through my body and destroy the carpeting. Because if it is harmed in anyway, it is my belief that my girlfriend will kill herself in order to chase me into the afterlife, simply to yell at me for it. But they do not trip me and I am successful in getting my cup of coffee and as the first dropplets of the morning elixr of consciousness hit my tongue I am fooled into thinking that things will get better. I am dead wrong of course, else there would not be a post about it. More coming tomorrow.