Bossy cat ChubChub DEMANDS television and air conditioning
Hubby and I are on SSDI for a host of health issues, and so we're home most days and are therefore at the beck and call our obese cat (she was obese when we adopted her, and it's been as difficult to get weight of her as it has been to get weight off ourselves - the less we feed her, the less she moves).
She's extremely bossy (and we've spoiled her by giving in to her demands).
When we moved into our apartment we didn't want to pay for cable, but didn'thave a digital converter box (which couldn't be found anywhere in the retail shops, so we had to wait until we found one in a local pawn shop).
Hubby and I didn't miss tv, but the cat did. She'd stare at the tv, look at us, meow loudly look at the tv again, look at us again meow even louder...
She LOVES watching tv (and her favorite position is on her back, facing away from the tv, looking at it with her head tipped back (so the screen is upside down).
Last month when it first started getting warm, she started yowling at the air conditioner (we didn't realize she remembered what it was for, from last year), but sure enough, that's what she wanted.
Her routine has become yowl to be fed in the morning, then wander into the living room, lay down in her "spot" in front of the air conditioner (we've determined it's the coolest spot in the room when the air-conditioner is on) and then yowl for us to turn on the air conditioner for her.
She definitely believes we're her personal houseslaves (though we don't do much to discourage her from this belief).
I have to admit that hubby and I have the bad habit of snacking in bed, and sharing our "bed snacks" with the cat. Now that we're both dieting, she's become increasingly displeased with the quality of bedsnacks. However, she still expects to be "offered" what we're eating even if it's something she won't consider eating (like fruit).
She'll come up and beg until we offer her a piece, then she'll sniff it, turn her nose up at it, and return to her place on the bed.
She really misses donuts (my hubby's favorite bed snack and he would always give her a pea-sized piece or two of donut - terrible I know). One night several months ago hubby brought home a blueberry muffin (no frosting, so for him a slightly-improved snack). The cat seemed disappointed initially (the usual bed-snack donut was bavarian cream with frosting on the top and cream in the middle), but finally she did eat the bit of blueberry muffin hubby gave her. When she realized it was sort of like a donut, she wouldn't let him eat the muffin in peace. She kept tapping him (politely and quietly at first, then insistantly with much meowing) for more.
Hubby is much better about bedsnacks, but she still begs from him much more often than me, because she's pretty much disgusted with my bedsnacks (usually fruit or veggies and dip). She still comes to see what I have, but she doesn't pester me, because my snacks aren't worth her interest.
It's ridiculous that we kowtow to the cat, but she's just so darned ridiculously over-the-top personality wise it's so hard to resist. She loves when we have friends over, because she wins them over with her bossy charms as well - though if we have more than a few people over, until she gets used to everyone being there, she sits on top of her toys (like a dragon guarding its hoard of treasure). She'll growl/yowl if anyone gets too close to her toys, but after a half hour or so, she'll seem to realize no one is interested in her toys, and she'll make the rounds begging for food and attention (everyone knows they're not supposed to feed her, but I always catch a few of the guys slipping her potato chip crumbs under the table).
Haha. That reminds me so much of our cats. Angel will come up on the bed, and meow, and poke at us til we wake up and pet her. Meagan will meow and look from her water dish to my husband until he changes it for her. This is a morning routine, it doesn't matter if her water has already been changed.
Look on youtube at "Simon's Cat." This little series of cartoons pretty much sums up cats. Of course then you are stuck watching cat videos for at least 4 hours. Or maybe that's just me....
Brandis - LOL! I can't look at any youtube pet videos (or crafting or cooking videos for that matter) without getting sucked into HOURS of videos.
Canadian Cutie - Cats do seem to love their routines and rituals. When we first tried to put ChubChub on a diet, she would eat so fast that she'd throw up - so we had to feed her in three, small meals. She gets fed at 11 am, 6 pm and 11pm - and even if there's food in her bowl, she will start demanding to be fed about 30 to 45 minutes before feeding time.
She has a pretty good internal clock, except it's funny to see when she's been thrown off schedule. For example she seems to "lose track of time" if we leave the house or if she falls too deeply asleep (normal napping doesn't seem to mess with her internal clock, but if she falls deeply enough asleep to snore, when she wakes up even if it's only 5 minutes after a meal - she starts begging when she wakes up). Likewise if we leave the house, she seems to assume that it's mealtime whenever we come back.
She also has a "sock-holding" ritual in the morning with hubby. As hubby's getting dressed, he drapes his socks over the cat's back (usually two pair - he uses compression socks for circulation and then puts a sportsock over them to absorb sweat). She seems to take this "job" very seriously, and usually will not leave her post until hubby has removed the last sock from her back. Sometimes he'll tease her by leaving the last sock on as she hears me filling her water bowl and food bowl. She'll give him a few warning meows, before she'll get up in disgust and run off with the last sock on her back.
Our previous kitty (a very slim cat) loved our morning scale ritual. I would place her on the scale to weigh her (she'd sit nicely on the scale) and then I'd weigh myself. When she heard me get out the scale and place it in the hall (even floor tiles) she'd come running around the corner and would hop on the scale and wouldn't get off (she would also "lovey" the scale by rubbing her face on it).
She loved the scale so much that I'd have to have hubby shake the cat treat jar to entice her away from the scale which of course only added a new component to the scale ritual.
She'd hear the scale being moved, run to get on it, and I'd read her weight. Then she'd lay posessively on the scale and love-rub it. Hubby would shake the treat can, she'd go get a treat - and I'd have about fifteen seconds to weigh myself before she ran back to the scale and would try to get on it WITH me. Then I'd put the scale away in the bathroom, and she'd go love-rub it a few more times - and we'd repeat the ritual every morning.
ChubChub (a normal fat-girl in this regard) HATES the scale, so to weigh her, I have to hold her then subtract my weight.
Every day when I came home, my favorite cat in the whole world would come to me and bury her claws in my leg. Apparently, she had been waiting all day to sharpen her claws and all of the furniture in the house just was not gonna work. So with a smirk of indignation, she would bury her talons in my fleshy backside and sharpen away. I would try to avoid this ritual, but it was going to happen one way or another. If I ran away, she would sneak up and sharpen while I was watching the tv. And then eat my hair.... Man I miss that cat.
LOL! Cat revenge rituals are.... well, let's just say "memorable."
When I was in graduate school, I lived at home with my parents who had a cat and a dog (later on, I would get a cat of my own to add to the mix).
At any rate, my parents dog was "snacking" in the litterbox, so we had to get a covered litterbox for the cat, which successfully deterred the dog from using the box as his own personal buffet.
However, with the box covered, "out of sight, out of mind" and I (being the designated litter-box changer in the house) forgot... ONCE.
One Sunday morning when everyone else was in church, and I was sleeping in because I'd worked the night shift and had just gotten home at 8 am, the cat came into my bedroom, jumped onto the bed, onto my back and started "kneading" my back (as she often did, before settling in and sleeping on my back.
However, instead of feeling her settling in and laying on my back (as usual) I felt a warm stream of cat pee soaking through the comforter. I jumped up so fast, that the cat was tossed into the wall with a thump.
I ran quickly downstairs and threw the comforter and my jammies into the wash, jumped into the shower, and then promptly changed her litter.
I like to think that the little wall thump taught her the lesson not to pee on me ever again, but in reality it was probably only me that learned the lesson (as I was never late in changeing her litterbox ever again).
What I find a bit ironic though is that she targeted me (the litterbox changer) and that she did it while I was asleep - and no one else was in the house, and that she incorporated the first half of a pleasant ritual for both of us (her climbing onto my back and sleeping on my back while I slept).
It seemed like a lot more than simple revenge, this was a complex practical joke.
That's what I love about cats, the ability to see them planning ahead with seemingly elaborate planning involved, unlike the average dog (some of the herding breeds being the exception).
When that cat would play with the maltese, she would get the dog to chase her and then she'd run straight at the wall next to the doorway, then at the last second she'd swerve through the doorway and the dog (unable to make the sudden course correction) would bonk into the wall.
Or she'd get him running after her around an end table and would jump on top of the table to watch him make a few more revolutions before realizing she had disappeared.
When I met my husband he had a miniature dachshund and a persian cat. I was the first girlfirend that the cat accepted without destroying their property (when I moved in and she didn't poop on my pillow, hubby decided I had gotten the cat's approval).
The dog would try to get her to play with him, and when she was tired of him, she'd lure him into the backroom where hubby wouldn't see what she did to him. Whatever she did, it would cause him to yipe very loudly and come running to us for protection (with a tattling child expression on his face, like we were supposed to scold her).
She never let us see what she did to him (I suspect she did what my parents cat would do to the maltese - instigate a wrestling match and then using both back feet - push the claws into his abdomen).
Yep, gotta love the cunning, calculating mind games cats will play with any inferior species (which pretty much in their minds is everything that isn't a cat).
Bossy cat ChubChub DEMANDS television and air conditioning
