Ya never seen anything like this, I sure as fuck haven't.
There are three fucking cats here at Chez Parents now.
The little fuckers have been sorting out the pecking order since I tossed them together and boy howdy, it has been hilarious.
I generally flop my ass down and start in to relaxing after a long day and every once in while , there will be a vociferous exchange between a random set of felines as they pass each other in the hallway.
Git er Done, Figure It Out, STFU.
I will clean up the mess tomorrow and I am trying to watch the fucking news here, ya fucking varmints!
I have noticed a kind of twisted end result of this, when I am sitting on the terlet, I get a fucking parade of cats every morning, with a inevitable cat fight right around the corner.
One, two, three. they come in to say hello and demand a bit of petting and I am like, WTF?
I even have one that comes in to say Hi and then goes and jumps in the cat box, right after the little fucker makes sure I am paying attention.
Good kitty, ya little fucker, now I have to change the cat litter again.
Let me tell ya, that shit gags me, every time.
It's amazing, a three to one difference of what they eat and how much they shit!
I have quite a few more observations of some strange cat behaviors but I should save them for Caturday, 2014.
cats are evil
ReplyDeleteWe had 3 at one time but none are left now. The last one used to wait until she could come inside before she'd take a dump. Couldn't figure out why she wouldn't take care of this outside instead of fillin up the cat box for me to change.
ReplyDeleteMy two roomies are both male Siamese...and just recently they have discovered it's more fun to use the Nephew's garden plot to take care of business than the litter box...I have spent countless minutes trying to convince him that I did NOT train them to do that! (but it is kinda funny!)
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ReplyDeleteCats are hell on the plants, their "fertilizer" is too acidic, burns the roots. At least, that's what people are always bitching to me.
ReplyDeleteCats never cease to find new and annoying ways to fuck with our heads, that's their primary occupation. Her Majesty Biddy fucking SANG to me the other night, as I was cleaning shrimp, DEMANDING one; I wasn't planning on sharing, 'cause those seven shrimp were fucking EXPENSIVE, and the last time I gave the ungrateful shits shrimp, they barfed in my shoes. But since she has pretty much gone on silence strike since moving here to L'Hotel du Fucktards, I let her con me into it. Cut one good-sized shrimp into two pieces for her and her brother, and gave them to them.
Sniff.
Lick.
Roll it over.
Sniff.
Look up at me,
"Okay, so where's the stuff we WANTED? I know that THIS ain't it, huh?"
Little fuckers.
Be a cold day in hell before I waste good shrimp on their asses again. But I took 'em to get bathed today (and as usual, the crackheads @ my vet's office fucked it up & I had to rassle them both to comb-out the dreadlocks and knots out of their STILL SOAKING-WET HAIR), so I got my revenge. I'd do it myself and save the money, for damned sure, if I could bend over the bathtub and rassle two gigantic fat cats.