I love fucking with my cat. I think its because he’s barely a year old and has the energy of 500 energizer bunnies and the acrobatic skills of a hungry ass monkey. He reminds me of a dog sometimes just because he’ll do things I’ve only associated that dogs do. Like, he whines how puppies whine when they want something and they guilt trip you by taking advantage of your emotions with their damn big’ol sad eyes and quietly whimpering you pleas to hold them or feed them. He’s also a very smart and persistent cat.
My cat has an obsession with feathers.
I could give him a tiny rodent plush thing or a fuzzy ball and he’ll just scoff at it and look at me with a face that says, “Mom, like, what the fuck is this? Can you pet me now?”
You can try the classic laser pointer chase will get the “kiss my bug, fluffy ass” and just stares at me with the oddest blank look you can ever imagine.
Now give him on of those chasers with feathers attached for him to hunt down and he just goes ape shit on it, Like, as I’m typing this blog post right now, I have this wonderful torture toy in my other hand im waving it in the air about 2 feet over my cats head and he’s just leaping at it as he is a pig with wings. I never knew my cat can do a back flip then immediately a front flip just to get this toy. My cat is fucking smart because he’s actually gone on top of boxes and the bed just to leap and get to his toy, Sometimes, if I told the toy still above his pretty little head long enough, he’ll wiggle his butt and tail to get ready to spring board himself however high the toy is.
On the occasion when he does manage to capture the toy he will death grip the damn feathers and a damn game of tug-of-war ensues. My cat growls like a damn dog as he fights to get the toy out of my hand. It’s amazing that he can yank as hard as he can. I’ve had to pay attention a couple of times because he’s caught me off guard before. Never underestimate the strength of a cat, no matter how tiny or fat they are. You’ll most likely be kissing the floor as your cat laughs at you and reascends to which ever hiding spot he please. You will not see that toy again unless you follow your cat and there will be a lot of dust that probably trigger and aware the evil mucus monsters. Again, your cat will be amused with you being tortured with your allergies just to get his prize back.
He especially hates it when I make him bobble his head and tap him with the toy because he looks like he’s spazzing out or has syndrome. Sometimes, I’ll circle the toy in circles and he gets dizzy trying to keep up. I start giggling and he’ll look at me for a brief moment wondering why his human is laughing, then he just goes back to trying to get the toy. He never seems to get tired either. Like, with some dogs, you’ll play with them for an hour or so then they’ll give up and want to sleep. I’ve messed with my cat for a good 2 hours and he was still filled with energy. But he does knock out once I put the toy away or let him enjoy having the toy to himself for a moment. He’ll jump back up onto my bed and wait for me to slip in so that we can both sleep.
I worked a lot of late nights and barely got to be home so he’ll nap but will never miss a chance to cuddle next to me when it is bed time. I guess that’s the only time my cat will ever really sleep to the point where me moving around doesn’t wake him up. When I do try to get out of the bed he’ll instantaneous wake up and looks at me with such sadness and confusion. Mama where you going? Please stay. I’ll turn around and cuddle closer if you stay in bed, please?
My cat is off the chain every morning.
There was a time when my wonderful mother left the garage door and down stairs doors unlocked for me. I had just got back from watching a movie and hanging out with an old high school friend and I managed to get back around 12am or so. You can imagine how annoyed and confused I was that my mother would leave the garage door open with the door connecting to the living room unlocked. I heard the door creak and the windows shake from the Santa Ana winds. Paranoid, I go to check the front door and that was also unlocked. I proceed to close the garage door and my tiny, oddly dressed, Korean grandmother scurries out and starts yelling, “YOU WERE HOME?!”
“No, I was out”
“WHAT? WHY IT LOUD?”
“I closed the garage door grandma”
“WHY YOU NO TAKE YOUR CAR. WHY YOU TAKE MOM CAR?!”
My mother wakes up from my grandmother’s yelling and is confused by the noise. An old church retreat shirt clung onto her covering two-thirds of her body and baby pink, plaid pajama pants covered the rest. Every one is paranoid at this point. I’m exhausted.
Now, elders always know how to make a situation a lot worse. Right after I was up and get comfortable in my bed, cat nudging me with delight, my grandmother goes downstairs with ALL the lights off. I don’t trust her doing anything in the dark. My mother advises me to lock my bedroom door. Awesome! Great job not worsening my anxiety and aiding my mind to formulate wonderful images of serial killers and or robbers coming in to our home and are hiding somewhere downstairs. As I start dozing off, my grandmother starts trying to open my damn door three time, three times, throughout the night. My cat does the right thing and and moves himself between me and the door and stays vigilant until he feels that things will be alright. Mind you, I’m used to my cat running away at the sound of me moving in my chair.
The next morning, I get him a new toy with squeaking mouse chaser toy. He’s scared shitless of it and will not go near it, even when I bribe him with cat treats.
I love my cat.