21 October 2008

R.I.P. Mick, continued

"Thousands of years ago cats were worshipped as gods. 
They have never forgotten this."
- Anonymous

My mom reminded me of some other funny times with the cat:

Sometimes when I would be sitting on the couch eating, watching TV, he would sit right next to me. Occasionally he would slowly stretch one paw out towards the plate. He would look up at me like, "Uh, are you going to finish that?" Then he would rest his paw on the edge of the plate. Just rest it there and stare at me. Not going in for the kill, but letting me know that he was there and would be happy to take over if I needed him to.

One time during a particularly hot summer, my mom put some ice cubes in his water bowl. He immediately batted them out of the water and proceeded to swat them around the kitchen and dining room as if he was playing hockey.

He loved to finish off individual sized yogurt containers. He would dip a paw in and sweep up a bit of the yogurt and then delicately lick it off his paw. Eventually he would just stick his whole head inside the container to get every last drop. Then spend the next half hour trying to clean the yogurt off of his ears.

Sometimes it seemed he would actually team up with the dogs. If we had something on the counter that they all wanted, Mick would jump up on the counter, scoot said food to the edge where the dogs could man-handle it to the floor and get it open. Then it would be a free-for-all with both dogs and the cat scrambling for whatever they could get until we ran into the kitchen to put a stop to it.

Every once in a while he would sit up on the back of the couch behind me. Sometimes he would suddenly start to lick the back of my head, as if he suddenly decided, "The back of this guy's melon needs a bath. I'd better get to work."

Every time someone opened a can, Mick would go crazy. Meowing, mewing, winding around your legs. Standing on his hind legs and stretching up the cabinets to try to see what it was that was being opened. Didn't matter if it was beets, corn, soup, cat food, beans - he wanted it. Badly. In this he trained the dogs quite well too. They are now the same way if a can is opened.

It's also true that you only hear a cat jump OFF the counter, never on to it. And by that time it's too late. You hear a soft "whoomp" and think to yourself, "Hmmm... that sounded just like a cat full of roast beef jumping off the counter..."

KJT - Seattle (2008) (Second pic was taken by my friend EL in Sept.)

1 comment:

cae said...

Hah! We had a cat when I was a kid (semi-feral) who, on one occasion, shoved a nearly defrosted flank-steak off of the counter to the dogs below. My mom came into the kitchen to witness the scene - dogs below in a delighted bedlam of snarfery, the cat above, watching; serene - classic! Further, this post reminded me of a game my daughter and I frequently play: define that sound effect. Where's the tie-in? "Plamp!": The sound of a cat landing on a plate of ham.