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I FUCKING LOVE CATS

Started by Neil, November 04, 2013, 11:06:04 PM

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Neil

My Ma was never a cat person. Nor was I.  But she would toe our childhood kitty out of the way, just had no time for them. My sis loved that cat, but is OCD like me. One time she got a notion that the whiskers should be symmetrical, without realising how important they were to an animals equilibrium. She trimmed them, plonked the kitty down, then watched horrified as it walked sideways into a wall. It spent the next week or so mooching about like a half-cut sailor imitating a crab.

Then my sis went to South Africa about 6 years ago, for a good 2 or 3 months, and I had to go and look after the late, great Maggie.  I quickly learnt that all the received opinions about cats were ballacks.  BALLACKS.  Maggie had the fierce loyalty of a dog - she would sit on yer lap, but jump off when she heard my sis coming downstairs.  I closely bonded with her during the time my sis was away, and learnt that - hey - allergies can be overcome, given enough exposure. 

I got Jelly in February 2008, and have loved the shit out of him ever since.  Seriously, I adore that monkey.  My Ma loved how crazy he was, at that young age, and got the notion for a cat.  Soon, she had a tiny, fat little shite of a kitty she called Hope(y).  After a few months, she went missing for about 9 weeks, and my Mum and her boyfriend spent every single night crying.

Hopey came back, fur all flattened on one side, as if she'd been trapped somewhere. 

My ma and her boyfriend split up a few months ago, giving me a hernia in the process.  Mum took Hopey, but found she didn't acclimatise to her new surroundings.  She'd get stuck, when let out.  She'd cry and wail, and it shredded both our nerves.  So she decided to a) keep her inside from then on and, as a consequence of this to b) get a kitten to play with her, to keep her company.  This was a fanciful, drunk notion, expressed during my sister's birthday on Friday night.  My Mum texted me today to say a kitten was on its way.

So I went round, and Christ, if this isn't the most adorable furry little cunt you ever did see.  She spent the first hour or two just sniffing around the living room, where I insisted she stay for the next couple of weeks, until the two kitty's were used to each other.  Hopey was badly treated when she was young, and got a severe dose of the cat flu - so, to this day, I don't think she has much of a sense of smell. 

After an hour or so of checking out its surroundings, the kitten came up to sit on my chest and neck, like a scarf.  I left the room, so my Mum could bond with her.  I told my Mum - ON NO ACCOUNT should you let these cats see each other for a while.  You need to swap the scents around via blankets, get them used to each other, etc etc.  My Mum is dogmatic, and wouldn't listen "aye, ok.  Stop lecturing me - go out for yer feg!".  I went outside for my feg, rang my sis to say "I'm pretty sure Mum is going to introduce them the minute I leave!", then was interrupted by my Mum running out of the house screaming "Neil...you were right, you were right!!"  She'd put them together the very second I was outside, leading to much wailing, and shite all over the kitchen.  The cats weren't happy either.

So we got them separated again, and all is well.  This kitten, though, Jesus F.  What a lovely little creature!  She sits, as I think I said, high on your belly and chest, or right round your neck like a scarf.  Every once in a while she gets up, and you think, ok she's had enough loving, but no, she's just getting up so she can inch further towards you!  Never seen a cat so openly and effusively affectionate.  I threatened to smuggle her out in a pocket. 

Anyway, I love cats. They're all furry and have big eyes and stuff.

CATS!

Thomas

My (one remaining) cat paid a visit to the vet today. Just your usual check-up lark. Had a right old time in the car.

Our other (non-remaining) cat would be sick in the car, and it would always be green. Perhaps that was something to do with traffic lights. Either that or it was pure toxoplasmosis.

mooncat

Quote from: Neil on November 04, 2013, 11:06:04 PM

Anyway, I love cats. They're all furry and have big eyes and stuff.

CATS!

I wholeheartedly endorse this message. MEOW!

Neil

Jelly was all happy-go-lucky when I got him, but picked up on the anxiety I was going through at the time, and now we both jump in unison when the buzzer goes. Although I think he's slightly less concerned about the TV License people than I am.  I love him more than I thought possible.  I remember Almost Yearly - good old AY, who I miss on here - once saying that he took the death of a relative in his stride, but bawled his lamps out when his doggy died.  I could see that.  I'm dreadfully sorry about your non-remaining cat, Tommy, I'm sure that's a nightmare to get over.  They are wonderful animals.  Jelly's into the habit recently of demanding a damn good brushing, when he's been out for his morning shite and had his brekkie.  Then, out comes the catnip.  I ask him before I give him anything, and he understands it all - it's still quite remarkable to me.  I'll post a video of me saying "do you wanna play?" and you'll see him perking up, and looking for the laser pointer before I even reach for it.  He basically doesn't trust anyone else in the world, he slept on a girls feet in the bedroom, then leapt off as if he was scalded the moment she woke up.  He's huge, a big ginger fuck, eats like a small horse, but so, so timid and tender, and lets me be a clingy tit with him.  I love him more than anything.  He lets me pick him up and cuddle him and tell him I love him twelve times a day.  I say "c'mere!" and over he waltzes, to get squeezed.


werfvgbhnj

I found a lost cat today. There were notices on the electricity poles nearby, and I resolved to find that cat. And then this morning, I saw it run into the bushes from the car. Coaxed it out, got it in the car (got scratched), drove a couple of streets over enjoying the cat taking an excited ride in our car, and returned that mother back to its disinterested teenage boy owner.

Fucking cat saver.

tookish

I fucking love cats too. Did I ever mention that? Possibly. Well, I have a cat, and she's fucking divine. A singularly foolish creature (which I suppose I deserved for calling her Pippin) who will meow plaintively at the open door until you shut the door and open it again, at which point she is able to recognise that it is no longer shut. She gets her claws stuck in the carpet every single day and has to be rescued, and dashes about the house for no apparent reason at four in the morning.

But she loves cuddles, loves kisses, spoons my head while I sleep, follows me everywhere, enjoys roughing and tumbling but never scratches, and makes teensy noises like an angry chicken if you touch her back while she's sleeping.

After Christmas, I'm hoping to adopt an older cat, as we have a lovely house and a very safe garden, and a  kitten, as Pip is absurdly broody but neutered, and also I've never adopted a kitten, and am excited to do so. I've never had more than one cat at the same time before, but I'm researching how to introduce cats to each other, and hopefully it'll go smoothly.

Here's my dozy fucking tit perfect beautiful angel of a feline, who got stuck up on a high rafter in my bedroom and refused to accept help in getting down:



CATS.

onthebeach

Cats are the fucking best. Ours were found in a wheelie bin, some cunt must have been seen that woman do it and decided it was a great idea. RSCPA found them and we picked them up (http://www.blackpoolgazette.co.uk/news/local/dumped-in-a-bin-1-2996942). Ridiculously timid at first, I rather stupidly picked up the lass her first time here and she pissed on me then hid in a corner for ages. Taken a lot of time for them to feel comfortable with us and they leg it at the first sign of someone coming in they don't know.

werfvgbhnj

OHMYGOD, oh oh oh - I forgot to mention that I'm taking in a cat next week because its miserable living with another cat and needs a cat-free home. This cat shows affection by suckling on you. Obviously that's because its brain is all messed up, but it's damned cute.

biggytitbo

I am a cat! Lie.


Here are some cats having a little party



Thomas

I once knew a Russian cat that had feline AIDS. Here he is doing an impression of deathbed-era Litvinenko -



His adoptive bro', name of Havoc, made it to twenty years of age, and so developed people habits -


Ein Sof

This is the chartreux cat that has adopted us instead of its real owners[nb]Presciently, it was even given a suitable name for a border-leaping type of illegal immigrant: "Pablo."[/nb]:




Shoulders?-Stomach!

I am attracted towards cats when I see them toddling around or trying to devise ways to get into trouble, but they don't like me. I must smell off to them or I'm too tall and scary. I like the ones with friendly simple faces, not so much the extra furry ones or the ones with unmistakeable cunt features. There are cunt cats, no question. Anything with white paws pacing the ground like a minature leopard is enough to melt your heart a little.

Artemis

I absolutely adore cats. I had two, a brother and sister. Manuel and Bucket. We got them through the RSPCA, when they were both a year old. They were so petrified when they arrived, despite the fact I'd bought a plug-in pheromone device, cat toys, a cat tree and blankets hanging from said cat-tree so they could hide behind them when they were all new to the home and nervous.

They came to us as 'Bear-Bear' and 'Girly-Girl', names given them to the silly old wench who tried but failed to look after them beforehand because she was too old and decrepit. I renamed the boy Manuel, and the girl Alex, but she quickly became 'Bucket', because much like the character Charlie Bucket, she liked to sit at the edge of a place she could get free treats and look sorry for herself, despite the fact she could just come in and enjoy them like her brother had done[nb]I refer you to the Candyman scene in Willy Wonka[/nb].

I drunk a lot at the time, and it was becoming a problem. On my lunch hour, I'd go to the pub and drink several double vodka and cokes until I went back to work, having eaten nothing. It felt good when I drank but I knew it wasn't healthy and I didn't like it about myself. Luckily I lived just about in walking distance from where I worked. When I got the cats, I used to walk home during my lunch time instead so I could give them half a packet of wet-meat (i.e. Whiskers, etc.) each, and sort out their litter tray. Then we used to play, while I had something to eat. I'd get a long stick with a feather on the end of it which they loved, and they'd chase after it. Sometimes they'd stop playing and come and rub the side of their heads against me in affection, while meowing to let me know how much they appreciated it. Sometimes I left the home in tears just at the amount of love they'd shown and the amount I loved them. My drinking slowed down to a crawl. I was more interested in my babies.

Manuel started to become so attached to me he wanted to be in whatever room I was in. He would follow me around the flat, but he liked it best in my bedroom. He enjoyed it when I laid flat on my bed so he could stand on my torso. Then he'd 'flop', with both sets of feet stradling my body and his stomach against my chest. He'd inch his way up me until the top of his head was pressed against the bottom of my chin, and then he'd purr. Boy, did he purr. I used to watch television/DVDs in that position, stroking him as he slept. Sometimes when he was sleeping, he twitched. He'd twitch a lot, and sometimes wake up, looking up suddenly to make sure I was still there, then rest his little head on my chest again and nod off.

It wasn't unusual for Manuel to reach out a paw and put it on my forearm before he slept, so he knew I was there as he drifted off to sleep. If he was having a bad dream, his little claws would come out and dig into me as if for protection. I know this is going to sound sad and pathetic, but I don't think I'd ever been so loved. He made me want to rush home and do nothing but give him the life that had escaped him during his first twelve months before the RSCPA took him into shelter.

A couple of years later, my circumstances changed and I moved out of the flat to somewhere that couldn't really house Manuel and Bucket. So they stayed, and I left. My housemates looked after them. I heard Manuel started going to the toilet in odd places and wasn't eating well. One time I passed by the window of the flat and saw him looking out, forlornly perhaps? I certainly looked in that way. He'll be five years old now, him and his sister. I don't keep in contact with anybody who still lives there. I hope they're ok. I'd love other cats, when I'm set up to accommodate them well, but I still love them both.

So yeah. Cats. Nice thread :)


Birdie

Quote from: mooncat on November 04, 2013, 11:18:53 PM
I wholeheartedly endorse this message. MEOW!

Loathe as I am to name my favourite cats, you know it's you eh?

Love

Beryl

Shoulders?-Stomach!

The good thing about cats is if you dont like one you can just set them on fire and drown in a vat of your own blood to even it out.

Neil

Aww, some lovely, touching posts, especially have to highlight the one by Artemis, as I didn't think he was capable of love or sentimentality.

Jelly has a broken purr. That's right. I can see when he's happy, and I have a better understanding of cat body language because of it...but still! That noise! That delicious noise of happiness! So I periodically pick him up and hold him to my ear, like a sea-shell, so I can hear it reverberating within him.

The wee kitten, she purrs like mad. She also tried to meow, but is so tiny that only a comical, adorable little SQUEAK came out. She has wee white socks, and I want her.

Johnny Townmouse

My cat's got no eyes. Think on that!





Artemis

Quote from: Neil on November 05, 2013, 12:18:11 AM
Aww, some lovely, touching posts, especially have to highlight the one by Artemis, as I didn't think he was capable of love or sentimentality.

Cheers. In the interest of full disclosure, I should add that I had such attachment issues when I moved, I battered it to death with a meat cleaver.

RIP my one true love.

Neil

How does it smell, Johnny?!?


Like shite, as it can't clean the stale plops from around it's hole efficiently enough.

Johnny Townmouse

I wondered who would be first, and our I had a hunch it would be our benevolent dictator.

Actually it does everything any other cat would do. It's the same as everyone else. Your (sic) creating a twitter-storm with that shit Neil.

onthebeach




Our two in a back window staredown with a local tough (pics are massive when clicked)

Neil

Quote from: tookish on November 04, 2013, 11:26:49 PM
Here's my dozy fucking tit perfect beautiful angel of a feline, who got stuck up on a high rafter in my bedroom and refused to accept help in getting down:



CATS.

That is a fine looking cat. Or looming, as autocorrect suggested, auto-correctly.

Thomas, Jelly always wants to get under the covers in this weather, too!

Edit: oh I can't do gifs on the iPhone, because Steve Jobs DEAD NOW.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gfn0wGiwHdU

Johnny Townmouse

Quote from: Ein Sof on November 04, 2013, 11:49:19 PM
This is the chartreux cat that has adopted us instead of its real owners[nb]Presciently, it was even given a suitable name for a border-leaping type of illegal immigrant: "Pablo."[/nb]:

That's a really beautiful cat. Himalayan Blue? They are excellent for not causing allergies apparently.

A cat I had years ago decided it preferred the lesbian couple a few doors down. Mainly because of their airing cupboard.

On the day I moved away I had to make a tough decision, I went to see them to tell them that I was moving and they immediately started tearing up. I then told them that that could keep Olive if they wanted, because she had made her choice, and anyway, we don't own these things, they just lodge with us. They were ecstatic and made me a cake. It was like Surprise Surprise but with cats.

Hank Venture

Had a cat before, my old pal Raptus. It once got bit by a badger. Due to the odd looking circular wound, I for the longest time thought it was my old grumpy cunt of a neighbour that had stabbed it with a ski pole.

Shoulders?-Stomach!

I don't think I've ever read 'airing cupboard' so much of a euphemism as then.

tookish

Quote from: Neil on November 05, 2013, 12:33:10 AM
That is a fine looking cat. Or looming, as autocorrect suggested.

She is gorgeous, isn't she? As for looming, this is what I wake up to every morning:


Johnny Townmouse

Quote from: Shoulders?-Stomach! on November 05, 2013, 12:40:58 AM
I don't think I've ever read 'airing cupboard' so much of a euphemism as then.

They all start preferring airing cupboards by the time I'm finished with them.

Small Man Big Horse

#27
We got two kittens (Pixie and Trixie - I was not responsible for naming them I should stress) when I was about 15 or so, and they were adorable, but the moment they turned in to cats (1990) they became unsociable buggers with no time for anyone apart from my Mum. When I came back from University Pixie had completely forgotten me, and seemed to be terrified of me, dashing out of any room I walked in to. So I decided to do everything I possible could to win him over, which admittedly mostly involved bribing him to come near me with food. For ages though he would never let me stroke him, and I knew from the steely glint in his eyes that an attempt at picking him up would only end in physical violence. It took about six months in the end, but one day he jumped on to the bed and let me stroke him, and after another couple of months, he suddenly became obsessed with me, miaowing outside of my door if it was ever closed, and spending a ridiculous amount of time wrapped round my neck if I was on the computer. Alas it only lasted two years, as I then moved out and he never forgave me. Sure, when I visited he'd let me give him the odd stroke, but most of the time he sat on my Mum's lap whilst staring at me, making it clear who he loved the most now. Still, those two years were really quite a special time, and that bond I had with him is something I'll never forget.

Edit: To add a picture of them as kittens.


Zetetic



Spoiler alert
The one in the front is probably dead, which it turns out is better - from my point of view - than "definitely dead and rotting on the side of the A303".
[close]



Still alive, and amongst others, a welcome distraction from the march of time.

Neil

Nice, tender, lovely thread now, isn't it?  Aww cats, etc.

Just wait until the morning, when all the bald, bearded dog cunts get up. Or until 3:27pm, when old man Fry gets up, and sweeps filthy white blankets of sleep out of his enormous, ungainly eyelashes.