If they could talk, which ones would turn their faces red?
My mom had a tiger striped cat named Sasha. He loved sitting on the dryer when it was on, or sat on the edge of the ironing board while my mom was ironing. One time, he sat a little too close to the edge, and tumbled off of the board with legs up in the air as he landed on his bank -- not exactly a gymnast's perfect landing. My mom starting laughing, and the horrified expression on Sasha's face as he fled to her bedroom and darted under her bed was priceless. He didn't come out for three hours. He also avoided the ironing board for several weeks.
Prior to Sasha, my mom had a black and white tuxedo cat named Sushi. My mom is Japanese, and when I commented that the black and white fur reminded me of the rice and seaweed of sushi, well, there was the perfect name for the cat. Sushi loved to lounge on the footstool at the foot of the bed, stretching out and batting people on the leg as they went by. One day, he stretched too far and tumbled off the footstool. His mortified expression as he ran down the hall and hid under a bed said it all. When he came out a few hours later, he sauntered around the house, acting as if the tumble was an everyday thing. He wasn't about to admit that he'd made a fool of himself!
Sasha and Sushi are in kitty heaven now, but they left us with many wonderful memories.
My cats Eric and Sarah loved to either sit on the top floor of the cat condo, or on the shelf I attached to the window will. Both are big cats -- Sarah is 13 lbs., and Eric is five pounds heavier -- so a window sill just wasn't wide enough for them.
One sunny day (like the one we're having today in Southern California -- it's 82 degrees, and snow is visible on the mountains after the rain we had on Monday), Eric saw a tiny lizard darting across the sidewalk outside the window. He tried to bat at it, forgetting there was a window between him and the reptile. He got on his hind legs, tried to bat at the lizard, lost his balance, and fell on top of Sarah, who was stretched out on the floor and sunning herself. She was startled, and started hissing at Eric. He meowed pitifully as she smacked him in the face, unhappy to have the occupant on the window sill shelf land on her unexpectedly. Eric was also embarrassed because I was laughing, and was trying to get my sympathy by sounding pitiful.
He hid under my bed for about an hour, and I finally coaxed him out with a can of people tuna. I picked him up and kissed him, assuring him that everything was all right. He was trying to get down so he could get at the food. So much for maternal consolation.
After both cats ate, Eric went to Sarah, asking to be groomed. Sarah never had kittens, so her maternal instinct comes out by grooming her kid "brother." She cleans his ears out and grooms his head and face. He reciprocates, but she doesn't like it, because Her Highness doesn't think she needs it.
Another embarrassing incident occurred when Eric decided to climb the Christmas tree at 2:00 a.m., got stuck and knocked the tree over. I awoke to the sound of a big crash, and found an orange cat face peering out of the tree, pleading to be rescued, Sarah watched this fiasco, and looked at him as to say, "I told you to stay away from that tree! Now look at what you've done!" It's not easy to extricate a large cat from the middle of a Christmas tree, but I got him out with no injuries other than a bruised ego. After that incident, I decided not to have a Christmas tree for several years.
What are your stories? I'd love to read them.
My mom had a tiger striped cat named Sasha. He loved sitting on the dryer when it was on, or sat on the edge of the ironing board while my mom was ironing. One time, he sat a little too close to the edge, and tumbled off of the board with legs up in the air as he landed on his bank -- not exactly a gymnast's perfect landing. My mom starting laughing, and the horrified expression on Sasha's face as he fled to her bedroom and darted under her bed was priceless. He didn't come out for three hours. He also avoided the ironing board for several weeks.
Prior to Sasha, my mom had a black and white tuxedo cat named Sushi. My mom is Japanese, and when I commented that the black and white fur reminded me of the rice and seaweed of sushi, well, there was the perfect name for the cat. Sushi loved to lounge on the footstool at the foot of the bed, stretching out and batting people on the leg as they went by. One day, he stretched too far and tumbled off the footstool. His mortified expression as he ran down the hall and hid under a bed said it all. When he came out a few hours later, he sauntered around the house, acting as if the tumble was an everyday thing. He wasn't about to admit that he'd made a fool of himself!
Sasha and Sushi are in kitty heaven now, but they left us with many wonderful memories.
My cats Eric and Sarah loved to either sit on the top floor of the cat condo, or on the shelf I attached to the window will. Both are big cats -- Sarah is 13 lbs., and Eric is five pounds heavier -- so a window sill just wasn't wide enough for them.
One sunny day (like the one we're having today in Southern California -- it's 82 degrees, and snow is visible on the mountains after the rain we had on Monday), Eric saw a tiny lizard darting across the sidewalk outside the window. He tried to bat at it, forgetting there was a window between him and the reptile. He got on his hind legs, tried to bat at the lizard, lost his balance, and fell on top of Sarah, who was stretched out on the floor and sunning herself. She was startled, and started hissing at Eric. He meowed pitifully as she smacked him in the face, unhappy to have the occupant on the window sill shelf land on her unexpectedly. Eric was also embarrassed because I was laughing, and was trying to get my sympathy by sounding pitiful.
He hid under my bed for about an hour, and I finally coaxed him out with a can of people tuna. I picked him up and kissed him, assuring him that everything was all right. He was trying to get down so he could get at the food. So much for maternal consolation.
After both cats ate, Eric went to Sarah, asking to be groomed. Sarah never had kittens, so her maternal instinct comes out by grooming her kid "brother." She cleans his ears out and grooms his head and face. He reciprocates, but she doesn't like it, because Her Highness doesn't think she needs it.
Another embarrassing incident occurred when Eric decided to climb the Christmas tree at 2:00 a.m., got stuck and knocked the tree over. I awoke to the sound of a big crash, and found an orange cat face peering out of the tree, pleading to be rescued, Sarah watched this fiasco, and looked at him as to say, "I told you to stay away from that tree! Now look at what you've done!" It's not easy to extricate a large cat from the middle of a Christmas tree, but I got him out with no injuries other than a bruised ego. After that incident, I decided not to have a Christmas tree for several years.
What are your stories? I'd love to read them.
