Feline Funnies

Scaredy Cat

I have never been one of those people who enjoyed being scared. I watch scary movies with my eyes closed. I leave lights on around the house when I'm home alone. And, I definitely do not like for people to sneak up on me and go "boo". Somewhere along the way, I should have mentioned this particular personality trait to Gracie.

 

Just inside the front door of my house sits a small square-shaped piece of furniture about three feet high. The top is flat, and the only decoration on it is a plastic plant. It really doesn't serve any purpose other than take up space, hold a few books, and look nice. Up until recently, I didn't even think my feline friends paid any attention to it except when they shoved toys under it. How quickly things change in a house with cats.

 

Last week, I had to make a quick trip to the store to get some forgotten supplies needed for the night's dinner. When I got home, I checked to make sure that two pairs of eyes were not peeking at me through the glass at the bottom of the front door before I opened it. Seeing that the coast was clear, I picked up my cloth grocery bag and entered the house. That is when the chaos began.

 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something leap towards me from the top of the square bookshelf. Caught completely off guard, I dropped my bag and backed out of the house, slamming the door in front of me. My heart was beating so fast I was sure it was going to burst through my chest. It took my mind a few minutes to register what had just happened to both me AND my groceries.

 

For a few brief moments, I thought that a crazed opossum or raccoon had broken into my house - we have a lot of those in my nature preserve neighborhood. But then, I spied a pair of eyes surrounded by grey fur peeking at me through the glass. Their expression seemed to suggest that my behavior was disappointing yet again. 

 

You see, it appears that Gracie had decided to sit on the bookshelf by the door and wait for me to return. When I opened the door, she attempted to leap into my arms to welcome me home. I guess it never occurred to her that my arms would already be full, or that I would panic and succumb to my flight instinct.  

 

I had hoped that my initial reaction to her new way of welcoming me home would curb her desire to every repeat such a greeting. But as usual, I was naively wrong in that assumption. Instead, it has become a kind of stalking game. I never know if she is there waiting to leap until I open the door and walk through it. Consequently, I always enter the house  empty-handed these days. It leaves me much better prepared to catch a flying ball of fur if necessary.

 

Until next time, remember... 

 Don't be afraid of being scared. To be afraid is a sign of common sense. Only complete idiots are not afraid of anything.” 
- Carlos Ruiz Zafon

 

 

Buried Treasure

  

When I was a little girl, I used to love to dig for buried treasure every time my family went to the beach. I would grab my shovel and bucket, pick a spot amid the dunes, and begin scooping out sand hoping to find something special buried there. Many years later, I still spend some time each day scooping things out with a shovel, but from a litter box instead of sand on a beach.

 

Each morning after breakfast and each evening after dinner, I dutifully remove Gracie and Benjamin Bunny's waste from their litter box. It has become a normal part of the daily routine, and I rarely give it a second thought. It's funny how quickly things can change.

 

In order to get to the washing machine, I have to pass by the litter box. In the past, I would just peek around the corner to make sure no one was using it and continue on my way if the coast was clear. I didn't stick around and look for anything. Recent events have changed this tactic, probably forever.

 

Last Wednesday, the sound of the buzzer on the washing machine alerted me that it was time to move the clean clothes to the dryer. After making sure the litter box was unoccupied, I started walking past it when something shiny caught my eye. A strange object was sticking up out of a pile of litter, and it definitely did not come from inside my cats.

 

Immediately, I moved in for a closer inspection and was shocked at what I found. Partially covered under a very large mound of litter was a Febreeze Luminary Shade, a 2" x 2" square of scented paper the sits on a battery operated warming device. My first thought was WHYand my second was HOW. I had gotten rid of these things months ago.

 

I grabbed my litter scoop and retrieved the shade from the pile of litter. That was when I made the really terrifying discovery. It had been punctured by sets of sharp teeth. Litter flew everywhere as I emptied the contents of the litter box to make sure there wasn't anything else buried in there with it.

 

Satisfied the Luminary Shade was the only buried treasure to discover in the litter box today, I ran to find my phone still clutching the litter-covered shade in one hand. As a result of my past "how not to take care of cat experiences", I had my vet's number on speed dial.

 

Of course, this was a first for my vet who suggested I contact the company to find out what ingredients are used in the manufacture of this product. She also told me symptoms to watch out for in both Gracie and Benjamin Bunny. Luckily, they were not showing signs of them so far.

 

I knew it was going to be a challenge finding out what chemicals, if any, had been used to make the Luminary Shades when I discovered that the product itself had been discontinued several years earlier. There was absolutely no information about the product anywhere on the internet. And to make matters worse, the first several customer service representatives I talked to were completely clueless about the shades. One after the other redirected me to their same pet products division which only had information about the  safety of their pet products, not Luminary Shades.

 

Just when my stress level had about reached its limits, I got connected to a woman who was a cat caregiver herself. I think it was the explosvie burst of guilt-ridden sobs that finally got to her. Thirty minutes later, she was able to inform me that the shades did not contain any toxic chemicals and were not harmful to my cats if bitten. I immediately forgave her for the 13 times she told me that this situation had never happened before.

 

After relaying the good news to my vet, I headed back to the laundry room to solve the mystery surrounding how one of my feline friends got his or her paws on the Luminary Shade in the first place. It didn't take long for me to figure things out.

 

Every so often, I go on a cleaning binge and purge anything I am no longer using from the house. When I attacked the cabinets containing the old Luminary Shades, I accidentally left one intended for the trash on top of a 3 drawer plastic box sitting on the shelf beneath the cabinets. The holder was still there minus its Luminary Shade. I couldn't believe I had been so careless....and so very lucky.

 

I did spend the next few days driving Benjamin Bunny and Gracie to distraction with peeks at their gums and breathing checks. "Just say ahh" is not a phrase either one of them reacts positively to anymore. I also spent several hours that evening going over every inch of my house making sure that anything harmful to my cats was safely locked away.

 

On the positive side, I have something new to add to my list of posts detailing "how not to care for cats" .

 

Until next time, remember...

 Happiness is not the absence of problems, it's the ability to deal with them. 
― Steve Maraboli

 

 

 

 

Paws...for a Thursday Thought: Catnap Conundrum

 

Have you ever wondered...

why it seems to disturb or possibly unnerve your cat when you attempt to catch a quick 40 winks during daylight hours? Why is it that catnaps seem off-limits to humans but a part of the daily routine for felines?

 

Is it because they claim ownership over the concept of a short daytime nap since it has the word "cat" in it? I sure hope not. I understand being territorial, but that would be taking things a little too far in my opinion.

 

Take yesterday for example. I experienced one of those mornings when you wake up more tired than you were when you went to sleep. So by one o'clock in the afternoon, I could barely keep my eyes open.

 

After checking to make sure my two feline friends were safe and sound, I decided to take a quick "catnap" in order to reenergize myself. Within three or four minutes of putting my head on the pillow, I felt Gracie's familiar wake-up head butt followed by the sound of Benjamin Bunny's "Where are you mommy?" meows. No matter what I tried to do to pacify them, Gracie and Benjamin Bunny were determined to prevent me from falling asleep by employing the head butt/meow tactic everytime I returned to the bed.

 

I am a bit confused. Are they afraid I will fall into such a deep sleep that I will not wake up in time to prepare their evening meal? Have they forgotten that their human dad arrives home at their dinner time each day? And believe it or not, he is perfectly capable of removing their food from its can and placing it nicely in their respective bowls.

 

Am I doomed to roam the earth with dark circles and bags beneath my eyes for lack of a little extra sleep? I'm not sure there is going to be enough coffee to get me through the day if catnaps are a treat I will never get to enjoy again.

 

And so it seems, this is another missing piece to the puzzle that is a cat.

 

Enlightening comments about today's thought are welcomed, so please feel free to share.

 

Until next time, remember...

 We cannot without becoming cats, perfectly understand the cat
mind.
- St. George Mivart

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Gracie Scarf

 

I am fully aware that both of my cats are fond of me and care about my welfare.  But lately, things seem to have gotten a bit out of hand. Gracie's concern about my physical well being during these periods of low temperatures is becoming a bit bothersome if not a tad physically painful. Let me explain what I mean.

 

Shortly after finishing my morning routine each day, I head off to the spare bedroom where my laptop lives. Armed with a hot cup of coffee, I prepare to either work on my blog, Facebook page, or novel. It has never been uncommon for my feline friends to accompany me there.

 

My bedroom office is filled with their toys (ones to climb, ones to attack, ones to hide in, etc...) along with a window for the latest nature reality show occurring outside.  In the past, these items provided plenty of entertainment for Gracie and Ben. Occasionally, one or the other would decide to edit my writing by jumping up on my desk and either deleting something or adding a make-believe word. Distracting - but never really annoying.

 

Now, however, Gracie has decided just sitting on the desk and editing isn't enough. Oh No!!!  Sitting on the desk has progressed to climbing onto my shoulder and wrapping herself around my neck like a scarf - a Gracie scarf. How does this even happen you ask?

 

It happens because I fall for the same old trick everytime. It begins with a pitifull mew and an invitation to jump up onto my desk for a nuzzle session. Naively, I lean over to give her sweet head a scratch. That is when she plops her front paws on my shoulder and begins the purring head-nuzzle attack - which of course melts my defenses.

 

Before I realize what is about to happen again and react, she leaps forward onto the area of my back just below my neck. Gracie inches forward until she is wrapped around my neck, lays down, and attaches her back claws to my shoulder blade for stability. The inevitable flinch from pain merely causes her to clamp down harder to avoid becoming dislodged.

 

 

 

Of course worried that she will fall off and get hurt, I begin to lean in over my computer which is precisely part of her plan. The more I lean over the more comfortable she becomes. She is turning me into a human couch.

 

By this point typing is becoming impossible. My feline friend has once again found a way to distract me from the task at hand. Gracie, on the other hand, is enjoying every minute of this adventure - purring happily away.

 

As the muscles in my back begin to ache and the humor in the situation is beginning to fade, I begin making my over to the nearest drop off zone or furniture item to relocate her on in order to salvage what is left of my shoulder blade and  back. This process must be done carefully so that Gracie doesn't realize what is happening until it is too late. Otherwise, she will wrap her front paws around my neck like I am a life preserver and use her back claws as anchor devices.

 

This is why I have created several unloading sites near my desk - a chair, climbing tower, and small dresser. It is not so bad when my husband is home, and I can get a text off to him asking for help. It's the times when I am alone wearing my Gracie scarf that are a little more tedious. Luckily, Benjamin "Batcat" Bunny often comes to my rescue by deciding to play with one of Gracie's toys - one she doesn't want him to touch. Her desire to take back control of such a toy always helps in encouraging her dismount from around my neck onto an unloading site.

 

By the time my Gracie scarf has been removed, I must admit to being pooped and in need of either chocolate, coffee, or both.  

 

I am hopeful that as warm weather returns to Florida, Gracie will realize that I am no longer in need of a warm furry scarf while working at my computer. At the very least, I may be able to convince her that my husband's neck is suffering from the cold since his computer is located near where the renovations to my house are occurring, and there isn't anything but drywall between him and the temperatures outside. I mean don't you think we should share the fun - ha, ha?

 

Until next time, remember...

Cats can be cooperative when something feels good, which, to a cat, is the way everything is supposed to feel as much of the time as possible.
- Roger Caras

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Paws...for a Thursday Thought: Trapped

 

Have you ever wondered...

why your cat would decide to sneak back into a room, such as a walk-in closet, after becoming trapped in it during a prior visit because you left and closed the door without knowing she was in there too? Why would my cat want to return to a place without food, water, or a litter box if there was even the slightest possibility of accidental confinement?

 

I would understand this behavior if Gracie signaled she was following me into one of these rooms - perhaps with a loud meow or smack of the tail as she passed. But, that is never the case. She waits until I am not looking and then scitters by - staying low to the ground, tail straight out behind her like a fuzzy rat.

 

To make matters worse, Gracie finds the most elusive places to hide once she sneaks in. No matter how hard I check before leaving, there are times that I truly don't see her. So, she gets trapped inside AGAIN - until I realize she's missing.

 

It happened again today. I went into the bedroom walk-in closet for just a split second to get my shoes. Apparently, that was enough time for Gracie to slip past me and hide among a pile of clothes. If I had just finished watching ET, I might have noticed her when I did my Gracie glance around the closet before leaving. But, not today.

 

When she didn't come bounding down the stairs a few minutes later at the sound of treats dropping into her bowl, I knew something was wrong. My heart raced as I took the stairs two at a time on my way back to the closet. I yanked the door open to find her sitting there looking at me with the "What took you so long?" expression on her face.

 

Does it ever occur to her that it could be hours before she is rescued? Does the possibility that I have left the house even enter her mind?

 

Or, does she know that I never leave the house without visual confirmation of both her and Bunny's location? Does her confidence in my ability to be a good cat caregiver provide her with the courage to risk the possibility of confinement in order to satisfy her insatiable curiosity?

 

This is just one more reason why the word cat is a synonym for mystery in my personal dictionary.

 

Enlightening comments about today's thought are welcomed, so please feel free to share.

  

Until next time, remember...

 We cannot without becoming cats, perfectly understand the cat
mind.
- St. George Mivart

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Paws...for a Thursday Thought: Silent Stare

 

Have you ever wondered...

 

how a cat can manage to express so many different emotions with the exact same stare? No matter what the situation - intense hunger to craving a bellyrub, a cat's stare never seems to change.

 

But yet, I can always manage to figure out what my cat wants or needs from that one look. How does that happen? It doesn't work with my husband or kids. Most of the time, I can't figure out what they are thinking, much less IF they are thinking, when they look at me.

 

So, how are cats able to communicate so much with such little physical effort? Does it require a lot of practice? If so, it must be occurring when their human caregivers are away or asleep. Maybe that is why they take so many catnaps when their humans are around.

 

Imagine what life would be like if humans could communicate all the necessary emotions of the day with a single stare. Just think of the energy that could be conserved.

 

Most humans can't maintain the same expression for the duration of a single sentence, much less a complete thought. I think that must be why most of us go through life with our fingers clutching coffee cups filled to the brim.

 

Psychology grad students are always in need of something new to investigate. Perhaps the study of a cat's stare should be added to their list of options.

 

Alas, another reason cats remain an enigma to me.

 

Enlightening comments about today's thought are welcomed, so please feel free to share.

 

Until next time, remember...

We cannot without becoming cats, perfectly understand the cat
mind.
- St. George Mivart

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Can My Cat Read My Mind

 

Every morning, Gracie "allows" my husband to sit on the couch next to her while he enjoys his first coffee of the day. She snuggles up next to him on her special blanket (which somehow always ends up in the middle of the couch) and purrs happily while he scratches her chin and massages her neck. Squeezed onto the tiny portion of the couch not occupied by Gracie and her blanket, my husband checks out the news and sips his coffee until it is time to go to the gym for an early morning workout.

 

A little while later when I arrive downstairs for my first coffee , Gracie is still curled up on the blanket exactly as my husband left her. ALWAYS, ALWAYS, ALWAYS! This early morning ritual has been going on for months now. Which is why it never occurred to me this past Friday that I would have any problems relocating Gracie and Ben for the day while the reconstruction staff tore apart the back side of my house.

 

My husband and I spent Thursday evening moving everything breakable from the family room into one of two spare bedrooms on the second floor of the house. We also smushed all of the big furniture as far away as possible  from the side of the house being worked on. Finally, I took great pains to turn the other spare bedroom into a cat wonderland - litter box, water and food bowls, toys, windows with views for entertainment, etc...

 

I felt completely relaxed when it was time for bed. I was totally prepared for the chaos to come the next day. The house was sufficiently rearranged. All that was left to do the next morning was relocate Benjamin Bunny and Gracie into the new cat playroom.

 

No biggie! I could use treats to entice Ben to follow me up there. And, Gracie just needed to be scooped up from the couch. It was such an easy plan in my head. If only it could have stayed that way.

 

As is my nature, I awoke extra early Friday morning in order to ensure a smooth transition from calm to construction chaos. My husband was already gone when I arrived downstairs ready to relocate my feline friends for the day. I wasn't worried though, since I had planned everything out to the last detail - or so I thought.

 

I think I went into some sort of panic induced shock when I realized that Gracie was NOT on the couch just waiting to be scooped up and taken to the playroom. In fact, she wasn't anywhere that was visible to the human eye - nor was Benjamin Bunny. This couldn't be happening. The construction crew was due to arrive within the next 30 minutes and I had assured them that my feline friends would be safely removed from this part of the house when they started removing parts of the wall.

 

What was going on? Could they have figured out what I had planned? I convinced myself that I was being irrational. Gracie was probably just in the litter box. Benjamin was likely stalking something under a couch. Keeping these happy thoughts at the forefront of my fragile mind, I began my search for the two elusive cats. 

 

I finally found Benjamin. He was peeking out at me from behind the washing machine. I think he had followed a bug back there, but now he didn't seem interested in leaving his new hiding spot. Each time I tried to reach him, Bunny would disappear behind the machine and then reappear on the other side - usually with just his eye peeking out at me. It was like playing a perverse game of peek-a-boo. 

 

Beginning to feel desperate, I resorted to creating a trail of treats from the washing machine out to the kitchen.  As he bent down to gobble up the last one, I pounced. Now, Bunny is a BIG cat, and it took all my strength to hold onto his wildy wiggling body as I ran up the stairs and into the playroom. Luckily, a bird flew by one of the prepared windows just as we entered the room. His easily sidetracked mind enabled me to plop him on the windowsill, sneak out of the room, and close the door firmly behind me. Ok, one down. But, where was Gracie?

 

The shadow of one of her ears finally gave her hiding spot away. I had forgotten to check her castle since she didn't seem to be interested in going there much after I rudely cleaned it up. You see her castle is on top of the shelves which extend over the refrigerator. It is as close to the kitchen ceiling as you can get and a dust magnet. After I cleaned the bed and blanket we put up there for her, she pouted and refused to return to it - until today. She had to pick today. It was like she knew what I had planned for her, knew what I was thinking, had read my mind. Ackkk!

 

I tried tempting her down with treats, her favorite wet food, etc.. She just leaned her little face over the bed and stared at me with ambivalence, like my issues were not her concern. Time was really ticking down now. I only had a few more minutes before things got really crazy. Not only would I have a stubborn feline to deal with, but also a construction crew on a deadline. It was time for drastic measures.

 

Using a stepstool from the laundry room, I attempted to climb up to the castle. I made it onto the counter just fine. The top of the refrigerator, however, presented a bit of a problem. There wasn't much of it sticking out from under the shelves to climb up on. And even if I could get up there, Gracie's bed was located at the other end of the shelf. Hopelessness was beginning to set in at that point. Frustrated, I leaned my head against the refrigerator. That was when I heard the soft "whump" of feline feet hitting the counter next to me.

 

Bored with my antics, Gracie had finally decided to descend from her castle. She made one more graceful leap from the counter to the floor where she positioned herself for nice bellyrub. Unbelievable! After everything she had put me throught, she wanted a bellyrub. Not this time. I had her scooped up and on her way to the playroom before she even had time to flip over in my arms. Luckily Benjamin was still preoccupied with the bird outside the window, otherwise getting Gracie into the room without Bunny trying to escape would have presented a whole new set of problems.

 

Once Gracie was settled and eating the remains of her breakfast, I slipped out of the room, closed the door, and collapsed against it. Within seconds, I heard the familiar banging sound of the construction crew's hammars as they began to take apart the back wall of my house. Heaving a pitiful sigh, I dragged myself back up and began the slow descent back downstairs so I could monitor the demolition.

 

The next day, Gracie was back on the couch when I came downstairs for my morning coffee. Go figure!

 

Until next time, remember...

 

One reason we admire cats is for their proficiency in one-upmanship. They always seem to come out on top, no matter what they are doing, or pretend they do.
- Barbara Webster

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nighttime is for SLEEPING!

When I adopted my first cat Gracie, the SPCA volunteer informed me that cats sleep approximately 14 hours a day. She failed to mention that most of those hours were going to be during the day, not at night.

 

In the beginning it wasn't too much of an issue. Gracie would chase her bonker balls around the floor by my bed or play in the pop-up cat playhouse I bought her. As she got older, Gracie spent nighttimes exploring the rest of the house, usually camping out in my younger daughter Rae's room while she finished her homework long after I went to sleep. 

 

Things didn't change much even after we adopted our second cat, Benjamin Bunny. It actually got better.  Both cats would play around in Rae's room until she finally went to bed. Then, they would spend the rest of the night hunting for any creepy crawlers that had snuck into the house during the day. It would probably be more accurate to say that Gracies hunted while Ben eagerily observed. Rarely, did they disturb my sleep until it was time for breakfast.

 

Then we moved to our current house, and nights began to change. From the beginning, I thought moving from a single story house to a two-story house would be great for our cats' health and nighttime explorations.

 

Running up and down the stairs would be great exercise. The addition of several extra rooms would provide more places for them to explore, especially at night. And last but not least, we finally had room for the climbing cat tower furniture I'd always wanted to get for my feline friends. Things went just as I had hoped...for a while.

 

For the last several weeks, I have noticed a significant change in Gracie and Benjamin Bunny's nighttime behavior. Cat toys have started mysteriously appearing around my bedroom that were not there when I went to sleep. Small piles of clothes in my closet are being moved around or seem to go missing. And, drapes often start flapping wildly in the middle of the night while the doors to the balcony are closed.

 

Despite having free run of our two story, four bedroom house, the only room my cats want to occupy at night is MY BEDROOM. Ackkkk!

 

It wouldn't be so bad if Gracie and Benjamin Bunny were quiet and stayed away from the bed. But, I guess that would be asking for too much.

 

Instead, both cats have gotten the misguided idea that my bed is a trampolene, and my husband and I are the obstacles to attempt to jump over. Rarely are they successful. In fact, I think they miss on purpose.

 

To make matters worse, Gracie and Bunny are now bringing toys onto the bed with them, which they expect you to play with regardless of the time of night. Waking up with a slighty soggy, fuzzy toy mouse on my pillow is not how I like to start my day.

 

And then there are the play fights both under and around my bed, usually occurring just as I enter REM sleep. Loud meows followed by pounding paws circulate the bedroom over and over again until I can't take it anymore. That is when I resort to temporary banishment, a policy that didn't work with my human children so I don't know why I ever expect it to work with my feline friends.

 

I begin this charade by pretending to be on my way down to the kitchen to feed them a VERY early breakfast. As soon as both Gracie and Bunny step far enough away from the bedroom door, I change direction, race back into the bedroom, and close the door leaving the two of them in the hallway to reflect on their behavior.

 

I wish I could report that all the nighttime issues end here each night. But alas, my feline friends are quite persistent. Gracie will paw and bang on the bedroom door relentlessly knowing that eventually I will break down and let them back in.

 

I guess I should feel honored that Gracie and Benjamin Bunny would rather spend their playtime near me each night. But, they get to sleep all day, and I do not. Why? I have work to do during the day, and that is what nighttime is for. Nighttime is for SLEEPING! Could someone please explain that to my cats?!

 

Until next time remember, ...

 

The amount of sleep required by the average person is five minutes  more.

- Wilson Mizener

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Momma's Boy" and "Daddy's Girl"

Recently I read an article about gender stereotyping. I was shocked at how well some members of my own family fit a lot of the stereotypical behaviors associated with males and females.

 

This led me to question whether or not gender stereotyping could be applied to other animals in nature, such as cats and dogs. Since I am a caregiver for both a male and female cat, I decided to conduct some observational research.

 

First, I decided which behaviors I was going to observe and made notes about the traditional gender stereotypes associated with them. The behaviors I chose were sleeping, eating, temperament, and interacting with humans.  

 

Then, I created a four column chart with the columns labeled as follows: column 1 - Behaviors; column 2 - Notes; column 3 - Gracie; column 4 - Benjamin Bunny. All that was left to do was observe my cats.

 

Sleeping:

Ben sprawls out anywhere on anything. He likes taking up as much space as possible especially when he collapses in the middle of the bed. This behavior resembles the sleeping patterns of the males in my family, especially my husband. If I get out of bed to go the bathroom, there usually isn't any available space left when I return. 

 

Gracie, on the other hand, curls up into a circle, wraps her tail delicately around her tucked-in paws, and takes up as little space as possible. She prefers sleeping on soft surfaces covered with one of her special "squishy fabric" blankets just like my youngest daughter.

  

 Conclusion:

Does the behavior match gender stereotype? Yes

 

Eating:

Ben eats his dry food like he is a steam shovel on a mission to clear away a mound of dirt. Food flies everywhere as he attempts to hurridly get as much in his mouth as he can. My fourth grade male students use to do the same thing. And, they too often left lunch wearing some of their food.

 

Gracie eats her dry food like a lady, as my mom would say. She eats one piece at a time and chews it over her bowl so crumbs don't get on her placemat. Her tail is always curled up under her to maintain proper posture. I have never seen one teensy crumb on her fur after a meal.

 

Conclusion:

Does the behavior match gender stereotype? Yes

 

Temperament:

Ben is the most mellow cat I have ever met. He is almost more laid-back than my husband, which I didn't think could be possible. Very little stresses him out, the exception being trips to the vet. Ben is happy as long as he can chase his little red dot, eat twice a day, and sleep - just like the other males I know.

 

Gracie is HIGH MAINTENANCE, a trait possessed by several female family members. She starts nagging me about eating at least 30 minutes prior to breakfast or dinner. Gracie jumps on my computer and sits on the keys if I don't scratch her chin on command. She only lets me use a special brush for grooming. And, she will not sit on the couch if Ben is there first. Gracie throws herself on the floor and mews pitifully until Ben jumps down to check on her. Then, she jumps up and takes his place before he realizes what has happened.

 

Conclusion:

Does the behavior match gender stereotype? Yes

 

Interactions with humans:

Ben wants little to do with my husband or any male human guests. He will follow me from room to room all day and pout when I leave the house to run errands. At night, Bunny sneaks onto the bed and cuddles by my head until he is sure I'm asleep. Then, he crawls to the end of the bed and sleeps between my feet until Gracie announces it is time to play. Sounds like a "Mama's Boy" to me.

 

Gracie has my husband wrapped around her little paw. He is not allowed to leave for work in the morning until he sits on the couch with her. She snuggles up against him until she goes to sleep. If I come down later to have coffee and sit down beside her, Gracie will get up and leave. When he comes home at night, she greets him at the door. She will spend the rest of the evening watching him from atop her climbing apparatus or curling up next to his computer if he has more work to do. Gracie only comes looking for me when she wants her dinner. Is Gracie a "Daddy's Girl" or what?

 

Conclusion:

Does the behavior match gender stereotype? Yes

 

Based on these observations, it seems pretty obvious. My cats fit human gender stereotypes as well as many of my family members. So, what does this mean? I think we as cat caregivers are a lot more like our feline friends than we realize. Maybe that is why we are so drawn to them. Or, maybe that is why they are so drawn to us.

 

Until next time, remember... 

 

With the qualities of cleanliness, discretion, affection, patience, dignity, and courage that cats have, how many of us, I ask you, would be capable of being cats?

- Fernand Mery

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Feline Funnies Photo Post (FFPP): Shoe Pillow

 

 

Some days even Daddy's old shoe will work for a pillow.

 

Until next time, remember...

 

 Cats are rather delicate creatures and they are subject to a good many ailments, but I never heard of one who suffered from insomnia.

- Joseph Wood Krutch