Tue 25 Mar, 2008 08:57 pm
Man. This guy just loves to have his head rubbed. Vigorously. Wad up the ears, massage the jaws, work over the whole head. Does it seem odd that the only time he notices I'm alive is when he is on the desk, and my hand is on the mouse?
Wow, that's EXACTLY like my cat. I didn't know requiring a full, prolonged, vigorous head-rub when your owner is trying to do something on the computer was a universal cat thing... I thought it was one of those peculiar annoyances devised specially for me by my kitty!
Well, of course you wouldn't think this is abnormal, Cyphercat. You are a cat person, after all.
Stinky has learned the pecking order of the keyboard, mouse, and King...
(He is not allowed to type, or chase, but he gets his...)
Nerm types. He can get you into dialog boxes you've never seen, and can't find again for love or money. He can also destroy a winning hand of FreeCell, and I can't begin to find the key combinations that will play a single card.
Nermal's being a good kitty right now. He's outside. Fortunately, I've got understanding neighbors.
It a conspiracy I tell ya.
Yeah! You've heard of an army of one? Nermal is a conspiracy of one.
Bloody Miranda's here, demanding a good general rousting as we speak!!!!
It must be catching!
Ms Poppy has rediscovered the great indoors (after the first bit of rain in ages!) & is demanding heaps of attention! Rather nice, actually.
My guy just paces back and forth in front of the monitor until I put him on my lap.
Roger - hand on mouse!
Should be - hand on cat!
Oh. Sometimes I need the basics explained in simple language, Margo.
Martybarker, If I tried to put either of my cats on my lap, the would panic. My cats haven't been declawed, by the way.
Computers are like big purr-machines. They're warm and the hum. Why wouldn't a cat love them? And add to the purr factor that cats have ALWAYS liked to lie on whatever it is that their humans are reading and, well, you all know what happens.
Screech sits on my mouse and hand while I'm using the computer. When it's really cold he'll try to sit on the key pad. He has frequently shut down my computer mid-sentence. I try to pull him away from the computer and onto my lap, but it just doesn't satisfy his little kitty brain.
Oh, and about rubbing.... he almost knocked my laptop off it stand he was rubbing on it so hard.
That reminds me of Margaret.
Margaret the cat.
She showed up one morning in my husband's '59 Chevy Apache.
We already had two cats.
I'm wildly allergic.
I called a contractor my firm worked with, later to be business partner, and from then our stories differ. I remember a yes, as she remembers complete surprise as I brought Margaret to her studio back door.
Years passed, and for a while I did consulting for her firm. Nice way of saying she was boss but listened. Great studio, and it had a cat, yes, Margaret. Garcia was there then too.
So, one day, I did this elaborate pencil drawing, and I do mean elaborate, probably in a time constraint as usual; over plops Margaret onto the paper and quick like a bunny I grabbed her and tossed her.
I still have the scar, about seven inches long in the right light.
I'm still fond of Margaret in retrospect.
Hadn't thought about that either, littlek. Still, that big purr machine is much more popular with a hand on the mouse.
That seven inch scar, osso, is probably what I'd be wearing if I tried to get either of the wretched beasts into being a lap cat.
That's what I was thinking..
My little princess insists on flopping down right on the mouse. When I pat pat her to move a little to the left - where there is ample desk space - she gets this look like I have mortally offended her.
She's staring at me now trying to nuzzle my face. This kitty likes to be on eye level with me or higher at all times.
She's the princess, but I'm the Queen. Not that she knows or acknowledges that fact!
You are doomed to be the unacknowledged queen forever, mushy. Here's how it goes; you feed a dog, it thinks you must be a god; feed a cat and it thinks it must be a god.
Nermie would make a lousy moderator. There's nothing he would disapprove of, so long as it involves him.