Morning guys!
Today's question may be a little difficult for some of us.......
Tell me about your
kitty. Boy or girl? How old? What makes him or her your special baby?
I don't care how long your post is....I'd really like to read about your special kitties.
Our RB Banshee was always my little girl. She was about five weeks old when we went to the house to look at the kittens. I literally pulled her away from her mama's breast. She came home with me and she spoiled me rotten. We spent hours in the chair with her in my lap....I would hold her like a baby and she'd sleep for hours in my arms. Rick would come home from work and we'd be in the chair...he'd just shake his head. I'd take her to visit my parents and she and Ebony, my parents' black Cocker spaniel would romp through the house. When it got quiet, I'd go looking for them and I'd find them cuddled together in my parents' bed. At dinner, sometimes Banshee would start fussing. I'd leave the table, pick her up and cuddle her in the chair. Once she was asleep, I'd put her on the sofa, wrapped in her blankie and then go out and finish dinner. Made my father crazy, but it's the way it was.
One afternoon, Mom was holding Banshee. I had taken Ebony outside to pee. When we came back inside, I went over to Mom and held out my arms to Banshee and said, "C'mere, baby girl." And she held out her front paws right over to me and meowed for me to pick her up. Mom looked at me and said, "That cat is spoiled." And I said, "No, she's not. I am."
Every night, Banshee and I would go for a walk around the yard. She was content to be in my arms, but she liked to sniff at all the trees and the flowers. When it rained, we took an umbrella. When it was cold, I bundled her in her blankie and we went outside anyway. She went with me to our family reunions....I ate at my own table, though, because nobody wanted a cat at the table....and I wouldn't leash her to a post just to eat dinner. When I did my college internship, I'd come home on Friday night for the weekend; Banshee would meet me at the steps just inside the door. And as I would reach down to pick her up, she'd turn her back to me, just to let me know that she wasn't happy! Once I properly groveled, then she would jump into my arms and welcome me home. That continued the entire semester I was gone. I used to visit my GF in NY for a weekend, not often, but every once in a while; I'd leave on Thursday or Friday morning and drive up. Then I'd come home on Sunday. Well, I can't tell you how many times Rick called me and said that the Queen B was in a funk because I had left. Banshee was used to Rick leaving on trips....as long as I didn't start any packing, she was fine. But as soon as I'd pull clothes, then she got upset.
She slept in my arms, between Rick and me almost every night of her life. If I was sleeping when she came to bed, she'd sit in the middle of the bed behind my head and purr. If I didn't awaken, she would start patting my head to awaken me, still purring. Rick said that he actually saw me roll over, murmur to Banshee, pull her into my arms, and pull the bed covers over us...without ever waking up. If the bed covers were down off of her during the night, she would sit up and pat my face until I pulled her back down with me and put the covers back over her. Then she'd go back to sleep.
Banshee ruled the other cats. Actually, she ruled the whole house. The Queen B was the alpha cat and we all knew it. When I brought Amber Louise into the house as a wee kitten, Banshee made sure that Amber knew that she was the boss. Then she left her alone. She tried the same thing with Da Pumpkin Boy, but Pumpkin didn't care. He did what he wanted anyway; as long as he didn't get too sassy with her, she allowed him to misbehave.
Banshee always initiated clumping. She would lay down somewhere and, before long, all the other cats were there, too. We have pictures of them all clumping together....on the bed, on the couch, on a chair. Wherever Banshee was, that's where the other cats were, too. She loved to lay flat out on her back and show us her beautiful belly. If she decided she wasn't getting enough attention, she'd flop over and show that belly. Then she'd meow to let us know that we needed to pay attention to her. And we always did.
She was our Chicken Hawk. I'd put a chicken in the oven and when it started to smell, Banshee would come out to the kitchen and sit in front of the oven until the chicken was done. Then as Rick was carving, she would meow until she got her share. At Thanksgiving, she was a character....imagine sitting in front of the oven for hours waiting for the turkey. But that's what she did. She shared a banana with Rick every morning, but only if the banana was a little unripe. Once it got too ripe, she wanted no part of it. She loved cantaloupe; she could be fast asleep back in the bedroom, but as soon as I'd slice into a cantaloupe, she'd run into the kitchen so fast, she'd slide around the corner. Same with mango....she adored mango. And Shredded Wheat.
When she developed thyroid problems and we had to give her pills, she quickly decided that might as well just take them. We started out by me holding her and Rick putting the pill in her mouth. And I would always say, "Open!" One day, she was sitting on the back of the chair and I decided to try to pill her myself. I walked over and said, "Banshee, open!" And she did! I was so surprised I just stood there! And Rick said, 'Throw the pill in her mouth, Pam, throw the pill in her mouth!" I did, she swallowed and that was that. That's how she took her pills from then on. I never, EVER had a cat who opened her mouth for meds. She was really good with pills, not so great with liquid meds, though.
My post is long, but the Queen B was a special girl. Please tell me about your special cat. I'd really love to read about them.
Today's question may be a little difficult for some of us.......
Tell me about your
I don't care how long your post is....I'd really like to read about your special kitties.
Our RB Banshee was always my little girl. She was about five weeks old when we went to the house to look at the kittens. I literally pulled her away from her mama's breast. She came home with me and she spoiled me rotten. We spent hours in the chair with her in my lap....I would hold her like a baby and she'd sleep for hours in my arms. Rick would come home from work and we'd be in the chair...he'd just shake his head. I'd take her to visit my parents and she and Ebony, my parents' black Cocker spaniel would romp through the house. When it got quiet, I'd go looking for them and I'd find them cuddled together in my parents' bed. At dinner, sometimes Banshee would start fussing. I'd leave the table, pick her up and cuddle her in the chair. Once she was asleep, I'd put her on the sofa, wrapped in her blankie and then go out and finish dinner. Made my father crazy, but it's the way it was.
One afternoon, Mom was holding Banshee. I had taken Ebony outside to pee. When we came back inside, I went over to Mom and held out my arms to Banshee and said, "C'mere, baby girl." And she held out her front paws right over to me and meowed for me to pick her up. Mom looked at me and said, "That cat is spoiled." And I said, "No, she's not. I am."
Every night, Banshee and I would go for a walk around the yard. She was content to be in my arms, but she liked to sniff at all the trees and the flowers. When it rained, we took an umbrella. When it was cold, I bundled her in her blankie and we went outside anyway. She went with me to our family reunions....I ate at my own table, though, because nobody wanted a cat at the table....and I wouldn't leash her to a post just to eat dinner. When I did my college internship, I'd come home on Friday night for the weekend; Banshee would meet me at the steps just inside the door. And as I would reach down to pick her up, she'd turn her back to me, just to let me know that she wasn't happy! Once I properly groveled, then she would jump into my arms and welcome me home. That continued the entire semester I was gone. I used to visit my GF in NY for a weekend, not often, but every once in a while; I'd leave on Thursday or Friday morning and drive up. Then I'd come home on Sunday. Well, I can't tell you how many times Rick called me and said that the Queen B was in a funk because I had left. Banshee was used to Rick leaving on trips....as long as I didn't start any packing, she was fine. But as soon as I'd pull clothes, then she got upset.
She slept in my arms, between Rick and me almost every night of her life. If I was sleeping when she came to bed, she'd sit in the middle of the bed behind my head and purr. If I didn't awaken, she would start patting my head to awaken me, still purring. Rick said that he actually saw me roll over, murmur to Banshee, pull her into my arms, and pull the bed covers over us...without ever waking up. If the bed covers were down off of her during the night, she would sit up and pat my face until I pulled her back down with me and put the covers back over her. Then she'd go back to sleep.
Banshee ruled the other cats. Actually, she ruled the whole house. The Queen B was the alpha cat and we all knew it. When I brought Amber Louise into the house as a wee kitten, Banshee made sure that Amber knew that she was the boss. Then she left her alone. She tried the same thing with Da Pumpkin Boy, but Pumpkin didn't care. He did what he wanted anyway; as long as he didn't get too sassy with her, she allowed him to misbehave.
Banshee always initiated clumping. She would lay down somewhere and, before long, all the other cats were there, too. We have pictures of them all clumping together....on the bed, on the couch, on a chair. Wherever Banshee was, that's where the other cats were, too. She loved to lay flat out on her back and show us her beautiful belly. If she decided she wasn't getting enough attention, she'd flop over and show that belly. Then she'd meow to let us know that we needed to pay attention to her. And we always did.
She was our Chicken Hawk. I'd put a chicken in the oven and when it started to smell, Banshee would come out to the kitchen and sit in front of the oven until the chicken was done. Then as Rick was carving, she would meow until she got her share. At Thanksgiving, she was a character....imagine sitting in front of the oven for hours waiting for the turkey. But that's what she did. She shared a banana with Rick every morning, but only if the banana was a little unripe. Once it got too ripe, she wanted no part of it. She loved cantaloupe; she could be fast asleep back in the bedroom, but as soon as I'd slice into a cantaloupe, she'd run into the kitchen so fast, she'd slide around the corner. Same with mango....she adored mango. And Shredded Wheat.
When she developed thyroid problems and we had to give her pills, she quickly decided that might as well just take them. We started out by me holding her and Rick putting the pill in her mouth. And I would always say, "Open!" One day, she was sitting on the back of the chair and I decided to try to pill her myself. I walked over and said, "Banshee, open!" And she did! I was so surprised I just stood there! And Rick said, 'Throw the pill in her mouth, Pam, throw the pill in her mouth!" I did, she swallowed and that was that. That's how she took her pills from then on. I never, EVER had a cat who opened her mouth for meds. She was really good with pills, not so great with liquid meds, though.
My post is long, but the Queen B was a special girl. Please tell me about your special cat. I'd really love to read about them.