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Related:  Cat (+695), Lists (+737)      

* Do you select your friends based on how well your cats like them?

* Does your desire to collect cats intensify during times of stress?

* Do you buy more than 50 pounds of cat litter a month?

* Do you think it’s cute when your cat swings on your drapes or licks your butter?

* Do you admit to non-cat owners how many cats you really have?

* Do you sleep in the same position all night because it annoys your cats when you move?

* Do you kiss your cat on the whiskers?

* Do you feed your cat tidbits from the table with your fork?

* Does your cat sleep on your head? Do you like it?

* Do you have more than four opened but rejected cans of cat food in the refrigerator?

* Do you watch bad TV because the cat is sleeping on the remote?

* Will you stand at the open door indefinitely in the freezing rain while your cat sniffs the door, deciding whether to go out or come in?

* Would you rather spend a night at home with your cat than go out on a bad date?

* Do you put off making the bed until the cat gets up?

* Do you buy more than 50 pounds of cat litter a month?

* Do you scoop out the litter box after each use? Do you wait at the box with the scoop in your hand?

* Does your cat sit at the table (or ON the table) when you eat?

* Did you buy a video tape of fish swimming in an aquarium to entertain your cat?

* Do you give your cat presents and a stocking at Christmas? Do you spend more for your cat than you do for your spouse?

* Do the Christmas cards you send out feature your cat sitting on Santa’s lap? Does your cat sign the card?

* Does your cat eat out of cut crystal stemware because you both watched the same commercial on television?

* Do you microwave your cat’s food? Prepare it from scratch?

* Do you climb out of bed over the headboard or footboard, so you won’t disturb the sleeping cat?

* When you are preparing to leave for the day, do you seek out each cat and inform them of your anticipated return time?

* Do you sleep with no pillow under your head, because the cat wants to sleep on it?

* Do you stand at the computer because the cat is sleeping on the chair?

* Do you you make sure there’s plenty of kitty litter in the house, even though you may run out of toilet paper?

* At the store, do you pick out the catfood before you pick out anything for yourself?

* Do you go to sleep sitting up in bed because you were reading and the cat is curled up on your lap asleep?

* Does it always take you longer than expected to read a magazine, because the cat keeps curling up on it while you’re reading?

* Do you frequently leave your dresser drawer open when you leave for the day, because the cat jumped into one of them and is asleep in one of the drawers?

* Is the only comb you can find in the bathroom a flea comb?

* Do you cook a special turkey for your cat on holidays?

* Does your cat “insist” on a fancy Sunday breakfast consisting of an omelette made from eggs, milk, and salmon, halibut, or trout?

* Do you have pictures of your cat in your wallet? Do you bring them out when your friends share pictures of their children? (Pollsters claim that 40 percent of cat owners carry their pet’s pictures in their wallets, by the way.)

* When people call to talk to you on the phone, do you insist that they say a few words to your cat as well?

* Do you accept dates only with those who have a cat? If so, do you eventually double-date with the cats to see how they get along?

* When someone new comes to your house, do you introduce your cat, by name, to them?

* Do you keep old, empty pizza boxes on the counter instead of throwing them away, because the cat likes to sleep in it?

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Related:  Cat (+695)      

To go outside, Or to remain within:
That is the question;
Whether ’tis better for a cat to suffer
The cuffs and buffets of inclement weather
That Nature rains on those who roam abroad,
Or take a nap upon a scrap of carpet,
And by so dozing melt the solid hours
That clog the clock’s bright gears with sullen time
and stall the dinner bell.
To sit, to stare
Outdoors, and by a stare to seem to state
A wish to venture forth without delay,
Then when the portal’s opened up, to stand
As if transformed by doubt.
To prowl; to sleep;
To choose not knowing when we may once more
Our readmittance gain: aye, there’s the hairball;
For if paw were shaped to turn a knob,
Or work a lock or slip a window-catch,
And going out and coming in were made
as simple as the breaking of a bowl,
What cat would bear the household’s petty plagues
The cook’s well-practiced kicks, the butler’s broom,
The infant’s careless pokes, the tickled ears,
The trampled tail, and all the daily shocks
That fur is heir to, when, of his own free will,
He might his exodus or entrance make
With a mere mitten?
Who would spaniels fear,
Or strays trespassing from a neighbor’s yard,
But that the dread of our unheeded cries
And scratches at a barricaded door
No claw can open up, dispels our nerve
And makes us rather bear our humans’ faults
Than run away to unguessed miseries?
Thus caution doth make house cats of us all;
And thus the bristling hair of resolution
Is softened up with the pale
brush of thought,
And since our choices hinge on weighty things,
We pause on the threshold of decision.

© Shakespaw

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Related:  Cat (+695)      

Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray this cushy life to keep.
I pray for toys that look like mice,
And sofa cushions, soft and nice.
I pray for gourmet kitty snacks,
And someone nice to scratch my back,
For windowsills all warm and bright,
For shadows to explore at night.
I pray I’ll always stay real cool
And keep the secret feline rule
To NEVER tell a human that
The world is really ruled by CATS!

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Related:  Cat (+695)      

* Thou shalt not jump onto the keyboard when thy human is on the modem.

* Thou shalt not pull the phone cord out of the back of the modem.

* Thou shalt not unroll all of the toilet paper off the roll.

* Thou shalt not sit in front of the television or monitor as thou are transparent.

* Thou shalt not projectile vomit from the top of the refrigerator.

* Thou shalt not walk in on a dinner party and commence licking thy butt.

* Thou shalt not lie down with thy butt in thy human’s face.

* Thou shalt not leap from great heights onto thy human’s genital region.

* Fast as thou are, thou cannot run through closed doors.

* Thou shalt not reset thy human’s alarm clock by walking on it.

* Thou shalt not climb on the garbage can with the hinged lid, as thou wilt fall in and trap thyself.

* Thou shalt not jump onto the toilet seat just as thy human is sitting down.

* Thou shalt not jump onto thy sleeping human’s bladder at 4a.m.

* Thou shalt realize that the house is not a prison from which to escape at any opportunity.

* Thou shalt not trip thy humans even if they are walking too slow.

* Thou shalt not push open the bathroom door when there are guests in thy house.

* Thou shalt remember that thou are a carnivore and that houseplants are not meat.

* Thou shalt show remorse when being scolded.

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Related:  Cat (+695)      

A Cat Owner’s Story
Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable because no matter how legitimate my illness, because I always sense my boss thinks I am lying.
On one occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway because the truth was to humiliating to reveal. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on my crown.
In this case, the truth hurt. I mean it really hurt in the place men feel the most pain. The accident occurred mainly because I conceded to my wife’s wishes to adopt a cute little kitty
As the daily routine prescribes, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen. “Ed!” she harkened. “The garbage disposal is dead. Come reset it.” “You know where the button is.” I protested through the shower (pitter-patter).
“Reset it yourself!”
“I am scared!” She pleaded. “What if it starts going and sucks me in?”
Pause. “C’mon, it’ll only take a second.” No logical assurance about how a disposal can’t start itself will calm the fears of a person who suffers from “Big-ol-scary-machine-phobia,” a condition brought on by watching too many Stephen King movies.
It is futile to argue or explain, kind of like telling Lloyd Bentsen Americans are over-taxed. And if a poltergeist did, in fact, possess the disposal, and she was ground into round, I’d have to live with that the rest of my life.
So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping to make a statement about how her cowardly behavior was, not without consequence, but it was I who would suffer. I crouched down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button.
It is the last action I remember performing. It struck without warning, without respect to my circumstances. Nay, it wasn’t a hexed disposal, drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, clawing playfully at the dangling objects she spied between my legs. She (“Buttons” aka “the Grater”) had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I took the bait under the sink. At precisely the second I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws.
Now when men feel pain or even sense danger anywhere close to their masculine region, they lose all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements. Instinctively, their nerves compel the body to contort inwardly, while rising upwardly at a violent rate of speed. Not even a well trained monk could calmly stand with his groin supporting the full weight of a kitten and rectify the situation in a step-by-step procedure. Wild animals are sometimes faced with a “fight or flight” syndrome; men, in this predicament, choose only the “flight” option.
Fleeing straight up, I knew at that moment how a cat feels when it is alarmed. It was a dismal irony. But, whereas cats seek great heights to escape, I never made it that far. The sink and cabinet bluntly impeded my ascent; the impact knocked me out cold.
When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics snorted as they tried to conduct their work while suppressing their hysterical laughter. My wife told me I should be flattered.
At the office, colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk. “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?”
If they had only known.

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