Who knew I could be so easily trained?
Certainly none of those party to my previous
relationships.
And yet I have
been trained. And by none other than one
of the cats.
“Mao. Mao Wao.
Mao Wao.”
I am up and out of my chair, sprung, as it were, by
forces including a bottom positively made for bouncing in and out of chairs and
the desire that my carpet not be stained.
I grab the first piece of mail I find – a rather
insulting circular from AARP congratulating me on my advancing years and suggesting
that I may soon be receiving significant discounts on everything from eyewear
to car insurance – and propel myself, skidding around corners, into the other room.
Dolly Gee Squeakers, formerly of the Humane Society
Squeakers, a beautifully simple-minded puss with no more desire in life than
for a bottomless food bowl and a couple of flies sandwiched between the screen
and the storm window for entertainment, is hunched over, making the sounds that
I know so well.
“Mao Wao. Mao Wao.”
I slide the paper under her just in time, wrinkling my
nose with disgust.
“You are the pukingest cat I ever met.”
She looks up at me, remarkably pretty for someone who has
just yakked up her dinner, and plods over to her bowl.
Disappointingly, it is empty.
She winds in and out of my ankles, a move that is meant
to endear herself to me and yet is one I suspect is just her way of toppling
me, perchance to go through my pockets.
She gazes up, blinks adorably. “Mao?
Mao-mao?”
I sigh, give up.
“Just a couple kibble,” I mutter. And reaching for the cat food, I dump 11,
maybe 12 pieces of dry cat food into her bowl.
See?
I’m easily trained.
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26 comments:
You and me both!!! But you're better trained than I am. I hear that upchuck sound and run for a rag and a towel...only to get down on my hands and knees with gobs of paper towels I reached for prior to arriving at the destination....it's never enough paper....and wipe it up, gag, scrub the carpet before it soaks in and stains...and then, yep --------feed 'em.
Guess that's why I like to go birding. No clean up on aisle 4.
Ah yes...that heeking sound...usually in the middle of the night... One runs out the bedroom door in bare feet and finds the problem quite easily by stepping in it. Too late to toss the cat out the door, too late to save the carpet..ah well. Clean it up and fill the bowl. Such is life.
It's a hucka-hucka kind of noise here. And then the sad meow over the empty kibble dish.
Our Thelma and Louise particularly like to up-chuck at the top of the stairs? They might have it in for us.
It's a sound sure to get me moving, I'll tell you that much!!
Pearl
Hari OM
Jasper was either not much of an up-chucker.. or he had the great good sense to keep it outside. I can only recall ever twice such an incident indoors in all his 17 years.
...but neither have I forgotten them, so desperately disgusting was the experience! YAM xx
Lenora must have been reading over my shoulder. I went to run an errand after reading this and when I returned....you got it, or rather I got it.
BTW as a recycling tip, if the hour and attire permit, I usually toss the detritus out into the street, the birds love it and if late enough the raccoons/possums also partake.
You are a Pip!
At least you are trained by cats, those former gods of Egypt. I on the other hand, have been trained by dogs, somewhat less than god-like eaters of all things including kibble.
Barbara, humble servant of the Princess Daisy of Alberni
One of my cats sounds like a set of punctured bagpipes, while the other two are more of the "hoicka hoicka" type.
I can't believe you can actually catch the offerings; the few times I tried that, the kitty skittered a few feet away with every attempt, leaving me with a room full of mess instead of one neat tidy - although oozy - bundle.
Evil, all of them. And shame on you. I hope you'll excuse me now, I have to go let the dog out.
Is this a daily event? I've never lived with a cat. The dogs I've had would get sick infrequently.
Oh one more comment - you had time to read your AARP mail on the way to catching the puke? - good use of junk mail.
Years ago we had a rule, Whoever Finds It Cleans It Up.
After my girls left home a had a lovely boarder for a couple of years (I still needed trash to the curb, grass cut and drive shoveled, for crying out loud).
I came home from work one night and found him taking care of a messy "present."
"The girls told me, Whoever Finds It Cleans It Up."
Poor thing. When it comes to "MY" cats, I'm in charge.
At least, that's what they both tell me.
Ah, but at least you had the proper cleanup material on-hand. AARP indeed.
;)
All of mine(12) have different needs. I have been taught to cater to all of them. I have no life.
Yes, yes, that awful, unique, mournful howl,,,it travels faster than the speed of light, circumvents the brain and goes directly to galvanize the legs into action. If you can get there before the uk, yuk sound stops you have half chance.
We are all similarly trained.....you are not along, darling.
Give Dolly a hug for me.
And THAT sound is one of the most effective alarms I know. From fast asleep to up and running before the third retch...
And reloading is the the final part of the equation.
Cats will do that.
I don't have a cat yet, but I'm awfully glad I don't have carpet either. Vinyl flooring is so much easier to mop up.
It happens. No need to feel badly. If you ever needed a ride to the ER, for instance, or a little muscle to take care of a "problem", I'm sure they would come through for you.
She's just making room for more food . . .
I have no combination of letters to describe what the moose as big as a horse that looks like a dog sounds like when she is ready to let looser stomach contents.
Ah. Pet training. Somehow I thought it would be different . . .
Every pet we have had has ruled the roost here too. They establish early who is the master. :)
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