Evil Cat and I are made for each other, I guess. She follows me all over the house, and during the day, she lurks in my office glaring at me. She likes to lounge about on the carpet, like so:
But here’s the amusing part: she has those curved needle-like claws, like fish-hooks at the ends of her paws, and even though she must monitor me, that carpet snags her claws fiercely. She sometimes sits there, staring me down, and starts flexing those claws, in a hostile, intimidating way.
I wait for that and then leap out of my chair and stride purposefully from the room, as if I have something important to do, like opening a can of tuna, and she tries to follow, but she’s hooked — and then there follows lots of yowling and thrashing about as she tries to get free. Sometimes she rolls herself right up in the carpet with her struggles.
And I laugh, evilly.
See? We’re a pair.
Evil cat will have her revenge. Just you wait.
You are pretty evil if you won’t trim her claws.
We do! They were just trimmed today. They grow fast, and even when we trim off the pointy tips, they’re still long.
Besides, she’s very proud of her talons.
I recall the shaved cat from year ago. I pronounce you EVIL.
In the voice of Malcom Reynolds:
In the voice of Kaylee Frye:
She’s beautiful! My husband has trained his Maine Coon to relax peacefully in his lap while he trims his claws. It’s quite the job, since the cat is poly-dactyl and has seven claws on each front paw and six on the back paws.
You might also want to scatter lots of different scratching posts and toys around the house for her. Our two girl cats aren’t as laid-back about claw-trimming, so we make sure that they have lots of scratching toys, liberally sprinkled with catnip.
And I thought I was naughty when I’d have the cat chase a laser pointer dot around the bed, then suddenly jump it to the wall…
I can assure you, cats most certainly do not always land on their feet.
Good times! It’s the little things in life (torturing your cat) that make life worth living!
I have to say she doesn’t actually look evil.
beware the revenge of Bast o puny human
You have to sleep sometime…
Our old cat, Wednesday, never had any problems with getting her claws stuck in the furniture. She’d either retract them smoothly or scythe through the offending object with ease.
Our current cat, Sunshine, is constantly getting hers snagged on things – curtains, settees, clothes, the skin on my arms. We thought she’d have learned by now (she’s 5) how her fingers are supposed to work, but clearly she hasn’t. On the other hand, she knows that she can rely on us to unhook her when she gets stuck. Her staff are well trained, so she doesn’t need to bother learning these sorts of footlingly irrelevant skills.
I was once told a story about a person who routinely got drunk each night and returned to his shared accommodation to kick the house cat off his bed – violently.
This continued for some time until one night the cat was absent.
He threw himself (drunkenly) upon his pillow only to find the cat had left a present for him.
You are in so much trouble right now…
Aw… EC just wants to be friendly with you. Yessss… rub my belly she says. Yesssss…… Right there….
CLAWS OUT!
The mildly deranged penguin has not heard of cat-eating rugs before, but approves of the idea.
She wonders if this can be used to solve a major problem with the perpetual cat–buttered toast machine. That machine is where one straps a piece of toast, buttered-side up, to the back of a cat, and then drops the combination. Both cat & butter want to land on the floor, so the tension between the two causes the assembly to rotate in mid-air, never actually landing. Perpetual motion ! The problem is transforming some of that everlasting motion into useful work. Axles, fans / turbines, and many other things have been tired, without notable success. It’s like a nuclear fusion reactor, if we can just solve this — which will take about twenty years — then we’ll be up to our knees in cat poo and rancid butter.
Her idea is to construct a tube of cat-eating rug (cat-eating side on the inside), and use it to surround the spinning cat–toast assembly. This should stablise the rotation in about the centre. More importantly, it provides a natural “wind tunnel” or turbine-like flow, which can be harvested. It also keeps the poo and butter contained, and easier to clean-up (periodically replace the cat-eating rug tube, and burn the old one).
Why cat-eating rug, I ask? Simple, she says, a rug which has a great affinity to hold onto cats would also have a great affinity to hold onto butter. Both the cat and the butter are desperate, desperate, to land on such a rug — one to annoy the human, and one to amuse the human. Hence the above-mentioned “stability” of the rotation, neither of the attracted-to-rugs is going to allow the other an advantage.
She did some preliminary piece-of-cheese calcualtions, but then ate it before finishing (much tastier than back-of-envelope calculations). The results were encouraging, it was from a new-in-the-village fromagerie (and the calculations also seemed encouraging).
Your cat may be evil. but her combat training is clearly rusty. If it was either or my two, that rug would be shredded into pieces as punishment for its temerity in trying to ambush them.
jonmelbourne #10:
Don’t be fooled! That’s how they get you: they’ll roll around on the floor, presenting a soft, fluffy, rub-able belly; then, once you take the bait, they dig their laser-sharpened claws into your wrist!
Evil, I say! Evil!