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bear by san

March 2017



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problem cat

cat v. monkey, commencing at approximately 6 pm last night...

~6 pm

Cat: Monkey?
Monkey: ???
Cat: Monkey?
Monkey: ???
Cat: Monkey!?
Monkey: ???
Cat: Monkeymonkeymonkeymonkeymonkeymonkeymonkeymonkey!!!
Monkey: O Cat, what is it?
Cat: My feet are cold.
Monkey: That's because it's December.
Cat: But my feet. Are cold.
Monkey: So come sit on the lap blanket and warm them up. I will even point the laptop vent at you.
Cat: Clearly you do not understand the gravity of this situation.
Monkey: I am offering a simple solution to your problem, is all.
Cat: Isn't that just like a man.
Monkey: ...
Cat: I come to you with an emotional appeal, and you offer practicalities.
Monkey: In case it has escaped your notice, Cat, I am a female monkey. And actually, I'm not a monkey at all. I'm a great ape. An East African Plains Ape, to be specific, chiefly descended of the Northern European population.
Cat: How can you be an East African Plains Ape from Europe? That doesn't make any sense.
Monkey: Your scientific acumen is clearly lacking. My ancestors originated in East Africa and were both migratory, and highly successful in their ecological niche. But we started off on the savannah.
Cat: Where my ancestors ate yours.
Monkey: That's as may be, and there's certainly some evidence in the fossil record to indicate that it's a possibility. But I ask you, O Cat: who gave whom the water from which can of tuna today?
Cat: That's just because you have thumbs.
Monkey: See above, highly successful in my ecological niche. Which, right now, is under this laptop. Warming your feet. If you still want them warmed.
Cat: ...
Cat: ...push over.

~2:15 am

Cat: *pesters*
Cat: *pesters*
Cat: *pesters*
Cat: *pesters*
Monkey: *rolls over*
Cat: *pesters*
Monkey: *pulls cat under covers*
Cat: *offended*
Cat: *stalks off in a huff*

~3:15 am

Cat: *pursues glitter ball around bedroom*
Monkey: *ignores*
Cat: *serenades glitter ball*
Monkey: *ignores*
Cat: *sings arias to glitter ball*
Monkey: *ignores*
Cat: *croons ballads to glitter ball*
Monkey: *throws pillow*
Cat: This never happened to Cyrano de Bergerac.

~4:15 am

Cat: *snuggles*
Monkey: *snuggles*
Cat: *snuggles*
Monkey: *snuggles*
Cat: *snuggles*
Monkey: *snuggles*
Cat: *begins to retch convulsively*
Cat: *continues retching*
Monkey: *ejects cat*
Cat: *hideous barfing noises beside the bed*
Monkey: *makes note to be careful where she puts her feet in the morning, and decides it's too cold to get up anyway*
Cat: *nonchalantly returns to bed and sits on monkey's face*

~7:15 am:

Monkey: *wakes up*
Monkey: *remembers presumptive cat vomit*
Monkey: *inspects floor beside bed before putting feet down*
Monkey: Cat?
Cat: Mrr?
Monkey: What happened to the kitty barf?
Cat: Kitty barf?
Monkey: The Incident at ~4:15 am?
Cat: No idea what you mean, old chap. Surely, you're mistaken.
Monkey: ...ghost barf.

...I dunno, man. Maybe the poltergeist cleaned up.


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Cat and Monkey make me laugh :-)

Personally, I appreciate it when the cats clean up their own mess. My wife gets a bit grossed out, but hey -- less work for me!
Hee. Yeah. Well, I mean, there's nothing like cold cat barf on your socks, you know?
That sounds like a conversation I would have with Henry, my cat. :)
Phantom cat sick is a major feature in our lives. Serves us right for having a patterned carpet, I suppose: all the better for camouflage.

Tangible cat sick inside one's slippers of a morning is also a cold (very cold), hard - or, actually, kind of sloppy and slimy - fact.
We don't have cats at the moment, but whenever you do a Cat v Monkey post I get flashbacks. :)
I do so love the cat/monkey conversations!
Bwah-ha-ha! Ghost barf! :D
Dare I suggest the cat ate the barf?

It was half-digested, so perhaps that makes it easy work. ;)

Cats eating their own (or others') barf is gross. But occasionally useful in a practical sort of way. Although maybe Cat just made dry retches after being ejected from the bed.

What's even grosser than cat barf is when you are living with a cat in 1 room & you get up in the middle of the night to stagger to the bathroom with your eyes closed & accidentally step in the litter box. Aaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh!
Litter trays with lids were invented for this very purpose ;-)

(Plus they're less smelly)
This sounds exactly, event for event, down to the disappearing vom one was sure would be there, like some nights with one of my cats. The one in the icon, for reference.
I know the feeling. My cat Leiber has all damn evening to let me know that he'd like to play with his favorite cat toys, but he does nothing while the Czarina and I are awake. However, the moment we decide to retire, turn off the lights, and get settled in for some blessed unconsciousness, that's when he comes bounding up the stairs with a cat toy in his mouth, screaming like a damned soul for the opportunity to play. (I've threatened him repeatedly with turning him into a Davy Crockett cap if he doesn't knock off the racket, and his racket is such that the Czarina has to check to make sure I'm not following through on my idle threat.) And then there's his superpower of turning his ass into solid neutronium, but only after he's settled for the night on my feet. But that's a different story.
The cat under the covers incident looks very familiar. I'm slightly more used to the variation where one of the semi-ferals comes running over to me, excited, friendly, interested... and then runs away in offended terror (it's a high-level cat skill) when I actually try to *touch* them.

I bought an electric blanket for my cats.
This never happened to Cyrano de Bergerac.

O Cat, I believe you are mistaken.
I believe you are correct.
I am so impressed with you for remembering the kitty barf the next morning. I rarely do, and it is even more rarely ghost barf. Yuck.

I wish I had a poltergeist to cover for me.
It's so much funnier in the report than the experience...
Roomie has a cat. Said cat barfs a lot (digestive issues I suppose).

He told me about onetime when the cat puked in his bed behind him (he, somehow, did not hear this) and then rolled over into the cold slimy 'present'. Not a fun morning I'm sure.

Though when I was a kid our cats rarely (if ever!) puked inside. Of course, they were outdoor cats and spent most of their time 'elsewhere'. So they probably did it 'elsewhere' as well. That and they hunted a lot, so perhaps the non-processed diet additives helped too.
The barfing could be hyperthyroidism, we lost our oldest cat ( she would have been 15 ) to it this year.
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