All you have to do is start a thread about cats and we'll all come out of the woodwork to post. Hey Don..where are you.? We are going through a major change here. The feral we've been trying to tame is finally neutered and leukemia free. We brought him inside and held our breath. He completely ignores Rootie Kazootie. We figured there would be a big cat fight and were prepared,but nothing happened. Rootie is pulled out of shape though, and keeps his distance and stares. When Ferrell jumps in my lap,the look I get from cat number 1 is lethal. Wonder if it's too much to expect them to become buddies. At least Rootie has some excitement in his life other than his little furry fake mousies being knocked around or chewing on my sneaker shoestrings.

We have a feline visitor. I suspect that she/he belongs down the street a bit, but she acts a little as if she is a stray. She loves to sit under the bird feeder for hours and watch the birds.

She watches me when I am out but so far, hasn't come within petting distance. Acts interested, but fearful. All white with medium length fur. A couple of days ago, she showed up with what looks like from a distance, a hunk of fur pulled out of her chest. There's no blood, but the area looks damaged and sore.

I guess that I will just keep watching and waiting.

Opis is sitting inches from my right hand just waiting to give me a good smack or bite. All because i wont let him go O-U-T(yes we have to spell it) and he fails to comprehend that O-U-T is over for at least 4 more months. He will make my life a living hell if it were'nt for Rescue Remedy. A few drops in the water bowl or right on the tongue (if things get too out of hand) and he calms right down.
He has also started a new thing lately. Banging on the bedroom blinds just as we are dropping off to sleep. Last night i managed to swat his butt when he wasnt looking and he got the message and ran off...of course he did get the last word in by tipping over the metal waste basket on his way out the door.
I can see that wrapping gifts isnt going to happen today or anytime soon. Big plus this time of year is the hollow cardboard tubes at the end of the wrapping paper....they make great cat bonkers.

Taffy is racing through the house; he wants out, but can't go out until daylight. He tries to get me to toss him out by running over or sitting on my keyboard, sometimes changing my settings. It's all my fault, I raised him by bottle when he was just 12 days old and have not insisted on kitten manners the way a mother cat would. Sooty at almost three is trying to teach him, but "he's got no respect" little brat!
And then he comes on my lap and cuddles and gives me kitty kisses, what can I do?

Kotie is a master thief. She steals ponytail holders from containers inside of closed drawers. I know she's got one by the noise she makes on the steps as she gleefully zooms around and attacks it. If I take it away, she will glare at me with unrepentant eyes and go steal another. If I ignore her, there's a 90% chance I can retrieve the ponytail holder from the landing at the top of the basement staircase (just behind the door to the basement). If Izzy notices it, she will make a distinctive noise, take it from Kotie, and fetch it to me. When this happens, it must go immediately into my pocket, or Izzy will chew it in two. We go through a lot of ponytail holders at this house.

Kotie is an excellent assistant birdwatcher. She is never allowed outside, but she stares at the bird feeders for hours. When a bird lands, she chatters uncontrollably and stalks it. Whenever I hear her, I know to look at the feeders. On Monday, she alerted me to a Yellow Shafted Flicker, AND a Pileated Woodpecker that I would have missed but for her assistance.

Kotie is mostly sweet, but sometimes when I read the paper or play on the computer, she'll attack my feet out of nowhere. If I let out a scream, Izzy will run to me and punish the cat! She licks her, pushes her around with her muzzle, and mouths her legs without biting. Usually she knocks her off the chair and chases her underneath a barstool. The cat has claws and is no shrinking violet, but Izzy usually wins these fights by making kitty reek of doggie slobber before Kotie can fend her off with some well-placed swipes. Izzy also reinforces my scolding the cat to get off the counter in the same way.

Her fascination with toilets and bathtubs runs unabated. I know I'll never enjoy a good soak in the tub without a kitty's paws poking at me under the layer of bubbles. And I am forever reminding visitors to close the toilet cover lest kitty turn the commode into her personal swimming pool yet again.

Cold weather has turned Kotie into quite the snuggler. She doesn't hesitate to sit on a lap or a dog on the couch, and will even tolerate a dog's head resting on her body in the name of warmth. In quiet moments, she and Izzy groom one another.

Here I am at the feed store it warmed up to 28 degrees, I have one cat on my lap and one cat on the keyboard, just like at home.

My half-cats, Oreo and Kreem have gotten so big and smart. They are my bathroom cats. You are never alone while taking a shower or using the toilet. I am letting them outside for a little while every day, Skeeter and Maee(the dogs) stay out and protect them it is so cute. If the dogs bark both cats run in the house

Sam, RocKat, and Sheena are fighting among themselves, don't ask me why because they loved each other and now don't even want to be in the same room. But it is cold and raining so they will have to get along. With six cats, two of them almost cats, I don't have a tree this year. It would be too much fun.

You flushed another cat person out of the woodwork. Now, I love all animals, and most cat people like dogs, but have you noticed not all dog people like cats? Whazzit about a cat, anyhows?

I presently cohabitate with four felines. Notice I didn't say I owned them? I won't be cute and cloying and say they own me, either. Cat people understand that living in the same territory with a cat means you have at some time or another come to a mutual agreement of some sort and a meeting of the minds about limits, laps, hiding places, toys, sharing, private time and snuggle time. Since cats tend to me more persistant than humans, humans usually do more pandering, however.

My Tom cat HObbes, is officially a mouser. That is a joke. He has the run of the inside, both up and downstairs and the outside. He is the only cat to whom this liberty has been granted. Supposedly because he is my mouser. Did I say that was a joke? He is large, striped, has white boots and mask and will pat you to death. He particularly has a penchant for butter, and at twelve pounds is strong enough to move the heavy glass dome off all but the strongest dishes. He also has a love/hate relationship going with my husband the butcher who has been raised to believe countertops and cats don't mix. I live with a bleach bottle in my hands because of this. He is also obstipated and requires frequent assistance with his toileting duties. Now, if anyone else on earth routinely has to give a megacolonic cat an enema, I haven't met them. But, I deserve some sort of medal. I don't even want to hear about pilling a cat. Try it on the other end. He is my teddy bear, however, and greets me with love pats to my face with his big flams of front paws. He also has never met a person he didn't like, and is best friends with the Schnauzer who indulges him his food dish. Something he'd never do to another creature.

Satiko is the queen bee of the downstairs. She used to be my toilet kitty, and lived in an overhead cabinet over the throne and flung herself down on unsuspecting houseguests when they were most vulnerable, if you know what I mean. She doesn't like any of the other cats, nor humans much. She adores me, however since I rescued her from the animal shelter. She is now restricted to the downstairs after trying to lure a new kitten to her death. Long story. Said kitten was in a cast to her shoulders and Satiko made up to her just long enough to entice the kitten out onto a long metal rod running the width of our house to hold the two hundred year old structure intact over expanding clay soil. I caught the kitten just as it was about to tumble twelve feet, cast and all to the floor below. Satiko hisses and screams as only siamese breeds do, and at sixteen is starting to move toward the spirit world and just evaporate. She sleeps mostly behind my computer, over the kitchen cabinets nine feet off the floor, or in a sunny window. When I am home, she sleeps on my shoulders, wrapped around my neck like a fur boa. When you try to remove her, it sounds like velcro.
Echo is named after the Greek nymph. She is the daughter of a feral cat who roamed the fields around us. I heard her for three days before I layed eyes upon her. I kept hearing the sound of a catbird and finally realised it was coming from a bed of lilies in a front garden. When I approached, a tiny blue kitten, with one front paw paralyzed, tottered out to me, meowing. The feral mother left her there after she had moved the rest of her litter, evidently knowing this kitten's disability put her littermates at risk.....but would return several times a day to nurse her. Good mother cat. I took pity on the kitten, knowing it would never surive a feral life to adulthood and took it in and nursed the infection in it's paw, from the inward turning paw. The vet casted her up, but eventually the limb, affected by brachial palsy, needed amputated. So, she became a beautiful inside cat and lives in the upper part of the house with her solitary kitten. They are companions. Echo likes to have humans nearby but is as wild as the day she came into the house and also raised her kitten to be the same. Her kitten, Calvinette, is the newest toilet kitty who lives in the cupboard over the loo.

Two many cats around here to name them all. I think, as the hobos did in the 1930's, that the stray cats around here have little secret signs pointing the way to our house where there is always a meal to be handed out.

The latest ones here are two marmalade cats, who DH claims are "Obviously related." He named them Ralph & Norton. Ralph is pretty independent & doesn't seem to need to need people too much, except to fill up the food bowl. But Norton, just loves people and wants to be petted & held & has the biggest internal purring machine that I've ever heard.

I'm loving this thread...we had two cats who lived about 15 or 16 years ...got them when DS was two years old so they were with us all those growing up years. When DS went off to schoool I had an Amazon Parrot for 13 years but found her another home when I realized she needed more people/activity around to keep her active and happy. Also she may live another 40 years (and I won't) so wanted to get her settled for my own peace of mind. I miss her but it was best.

Now I keep wanting another cat...would an
"older" lazy sleepy cat readjust okay to a new home? I really would love a kitten but not sure just one would be happy and not get bored? I'd specify to adoption folks that I wanted "inside only" cat...is that usually okay? We have huge windows so lots of bird-feeder viewing spots and sunny sleeping spots could be provided.

I know we have a Pets forum but I'd love your opinions. And apologies for interrupting the Cat break! josh

Not only is an inside only cat OK, Jo, some shelters won't adopt out a cat to you unless you agree to make it an inside only cat. Mine are all inside only cats, save the Tom Cat, who is officially called the barn cat and needed to keep my poultry structure and greenhouses free from vermin who would be an economic and sanitary threat. Cats do fine in houses and live longer and happier lives than those who have access to the perils and diseases of outside life.

Shelters also love people who are willing to take on an older lazy, sleepy cat. Most people want only cute little furballs of a kitten. The mature and adult cats at our local shelter more often than not spend their last days awaiting adoption and are euthanised.

Thanks, Suzy. I'm almost sure I've already decided...I've really missed having a pet. The antics y'all describe and the love that shines in each post is tipping me over the edge. josh

Josh, when your cats don't go outside they live to a tremendous age. We've had two who lived to be 20 & 21.

Josh, you'd be doing a fine thing to go get yourself a sleepy, lazy old shelter cat.

We have Edison, a grey tabby so named because of his early experiments with electricity. I don't quite believe the vet fully neutered him. We have to let him out at a certain time every day to spray the spirea bush, or else he makes it clear the cabinetry is at risk. He's always up for a catfight and once came out of the house to lunge at a friend's (thankfully timid) pit bull. He has brought me many a live mouse and once a live baby bunny--a friend's theory is that cats do this for us because they think we're too stupid to do it ourselves. We can't leave dresser drawers open even an inch, or he'll clean them out like it's his job. And then there is The Sock. The Sock has become Edison's nightly fixation, the object that is carried all over the house, announced by a series of mournful low cries. He also sometimes focuses his frequent amorous attentions upon it. Yet even with all of his kitty angst, Edison is smart, affectionate and intuitive. Somewhere along the line, he figured out that I like to have a grey tabby sleeping next to my head, and he has obliged. He also comes when he is called, a lovely thing in a cat. I think he is five IQ points or so shy of being able to open the door himself. He also has some grasp of basic plumbing. Occasionally I catch him relieving himself directly into the bathtub drain as if it were his own kitty urinal.

We got our other cat, "Mr. Inky" (not his real name), because it was clear that Edison needed a companion. It was instant love. Mr. Inky is a big, black cuddly thing with eyes the color of the Caribbean as reflected off a white-sand beach, but visitors never see him because the mere sound of the doorbell sends him flying for the basement. Apparently this is not uncommon in cats that were taken from their mothers too young. He doesn't have any of the normal cat-human social tricks down, either. We call him, he looks at us dumbly. He loves to be petted but has not figured out that he can or should come to us (he signals his desire from across the room by throwing himself onto the ground, belly up, and we go to him). He purrs louder than any other cat I've ever had. Plus he eats bugs.

Andie, I think we were just very lucky with our two..didn't ever stray from our fenced yard and were healthy until just at the end. But I do remember one getting up a tree when young and had to be fetched with ladder. Plus there are more free-ranging cats where we live now...not sure if all their shots, etc. are kept current. So I agree with you that inside is best.

Dirtdiver, yours sound like a couple of real characters! Mine were perfectly sedate in comparison...LOL After the first couple of years I just remember them sleeping 20 hours a day...LOL...in my memory at least.

Thanks for indulging me on this thread...I'll talk with the shelter folks and see what's available. josh

I'm so glad this thread didn't disappear before I had time to get to it. Cat stories can keep me happy for a loooong time!
And I am especially glad to hear your story about Ferrill, Marda. I know that it has been literally months since you started caring for him, healing his wounds, earning his trust. So the fact that he is now willing to come into your house is AWESOME. Rootie will probably never really be his "friend," but if they will live together with some kind of peace, you are very lucky.

Now to my own 6-month-old wonders. The tree went up yesterday, today everything on the bottom third--lights, garland, ornaments--was on the floor. Ollie, the grey and white tuxedo male, is like a hurricane with all the stuff, leaping and frolicking and simply thoroughly enjoying what seems to him to be a super-cool new BIG toy. Darcy, the tabby female, is a little less intrigued than her brother with the tree but she does love the tree holder filled with water and happily joins Ollie with carrying ornaments all over the house. They are terrors, for sure, and I love every minute of their craziness. I had already put all the glass ornaments high on the tree so they wouldn't be injured by them if they were broken, but they have managed to get a couple of them down despite my best efforts. I think I might just put them away for now. If the tree lasts over the weekend we will be lucky and it definitely will be down early next week--for my sake as well as theirs. But the fun they are having with it makes me happier than they can ever know. It's only a tree, after all.

I was talking to my brother yesterday who is petless for the first time in 30 years and thinks he's doing just fine without a dog. I wonder how long that will last.

Pidge, It lasted for about 4 years for us, before we decided that a house without a dog just wouldn't do. Of course, we went from having the perfect dog to having one that DH calls a factory second, but he's still the one living thing in the house that gets most ecstatic when we return to the house & makes an excellent foot warmer on a chilly evening.