Can Cats Talk

Can Cats Talk

You bet they can

Do you have cats that ‘talk’? No? Consider yourself lucky. Every night Greyson chatters to the point that my son, or I, or both of us yell “Greyson! Enough!” or “Greyson, shut up!”
Actually, I have four cats: Charlotte, Holly, Halley, and the aforementioned Greyson. Each of them produces a unique sound.
Charlotte is an old cat, she could be 14, 16, or even 17 years old, I’ve lost count along the way. Overall, Charlotte doesn’t say much, she rarely produces a sound, but when she does she sounds like a sheep with laryngitis.

https://medium.com/writers-blokke/can-cats-talk-ff17028d207b

Interesting Facts About Cats

Interesting Facts about Cats

Responsible cat owners spay/neuter their pets

Kittens are adorable and have a way of stealing someone’s heart merely by being cute. When kittens grow up and turn into cats, some of that cuteness disappears and personality takes its place. People who love their pets, want to know more about them and wonder about interesting facts about cats.

https://medium.com/writers-blokke/interesting-facts-about-cats-6594010e3fe9

Day 98: What's for Dinner

Between You, Me and the Lamp Post

Day 98: What's for Dinner

If ever there was a cat who loves to eat, it’s Greyson. Even though he, along with Charlotte, Holly, and Halley has a supply of dry nibbles to snack on during the day, come 6:00 p.m. Greyson feels it’s time for dinner. Dinner being wet food.

He usually sleeps the whole afternoon but around 5:00 or 5:30 he wakes up and after a quick grooming session he starts to talk. Actually, I should say, he starts to moan, because that’s what it sounds like.

He walks around the place meowing his head off. Some might think this nice, a cat that ‘talks’ but believe me, it can get a bit much. First, it’s a little meow, then a stretched moan, and eventually he turns it into an opera. 

That's when I usually ask him “Greyson, what? What is it? What do you want?” 

Then he gives me a look that says… Can’t you understand a word I’m saying?

If talking doesn’t get the desired result, Greyson switches to plan B… following me wherever I go and walking in front of my feet. I pay attention of course, but every now and then he gets in my way. When I tell him “Greyson, I nearly tripped over you. Can you move please?” I get another look, a look that says… feed me and you won’t have that problem.

Sometimes this works, sometimes it doesn’t. Charlotte, Holly, Halley, and Greyson gets their food around 6:30 p.m. and not before. Greyson is resourceful though and now puts plan C into action … he jumps on the countertop and looks at me. That will do it.

Once I go to the cabinet where the cat food is kept, he comes with me. He’s in business now and he doesn’t want to miss any of it. I retrieve two cans and three plates. One plate is for Halley and Greyson, one plate for Charlotte and one plate for Holly. Holly never eats with the others, don’t ask me why she’s been like that ever since she was a kitten.

As for Charlotte… she is a very nervous cat. The slightest sound or movement and she abandons her food and goes running. So, I feed her on a separate plate in a separate room where she has peace and quiet.

As for Halley and Greyson, they don’t care what goes on around them. The world can fall apart around their ears, it’s foodie time and any tragedy will have to wait until their belly is full.

While Halley is a very quiet eater, the same cannot be said from Greyson… he smacks. Seriously, when he eats, it sounds like he’s drinking. Smack, smack, smack. When he’s finished, he makes some more funny noises by licking his lips over and over again.

Cats and their food… it's unlikely I'll ever forget to feed them.

Day 74: Those two would test the patience of an angel

Between You, Me and the Lamp Post

Day 74: Those two would test the patience of an angel

You’ve probably seen them on the road … dogs in booties, cats with a sweater on, or some other ridiculous outfit.

For starters, I’ve never understood how the owners of these pets managed to make their cat or dog keep those garments on.

Back when I was a kid, I spend the better part of an afternoon knitting socks for my cat, Pitoe. When the socks were finished, I put them on Pitoe’s paws, or shall I say … tried to put them on his paws. He was of the opinion that he didn’t need socks and he made that very clear. I was of the opinion that he did need socks and commandeered the situation with a great deal of perseverance.

In the process I ended up with more than one scratch, but in the end Pitoe had his socks on. Or so I thought. No sooner had I put Pitoe on the floor than he started shaking his paws … front left, front right, back left, back right … the socks went flying. So much for that idea.

Over the years I tried a few dress ups with my cats, but none of them were particularly thrilled with the idea, so no more of that nonsense.

However, now I’m having a change of heart.

Last night Halley and Greyson wanted to go out. They’re used to going out on the balcony. It’s understandable, they’re locked inside the apartment all day, so when we come home they can’t wait to get some fresh air.

Unfortunately, it’s no longer July when the air is warm, it’s October and the air is just a bit too fresh for me. When the balcony door is open, within no time the living room turns rather chilly. Not that the chilly temperature bothers Halley and Greyson. Take yesterday for instance.

As soon as we came home, Halley and Greyson took their position by the balcony door … they wanted out. Fine, they were let out. They jumped on the ledge of the (safety netted) balcony and looked at the construction workers down below, the cars that came and went in the parking lot, the pigeons and seagulls that swooped overhead, and the finches who came to peck at the bird food.

After a while I called them in but neither of them was willing. "Halley, Greyson, it’s cold, come inside!” I said with more urgency. They responded with a firm, no. “Fine,” I said, “knock when you want to come in.” Since it was getting cold in the living room I closed the door. Two minutes later Halley scratched at the glass, she wanted to come in, Greyson in her wake.

I opened the door, the two of them walked in, I closed the door.

Before long they wanted to go out again. I opened the door, they walked out, I closed the door.

When next I let them in, their paws and fur was cold. That’s when I started considering getting them each a sweater and some booties.

And so it went … in, out, in, out, in, out, in.

“You’re in and now you’re staying in,” I told them as I yet again had to get up to open and close the balcony door. When next Halley scratched to go out, I held firm. Enough was enough.

But I had reckoned without Halley’s determination. Now when she wanted out she didn’t just scratch the glass, she went into turbo overdrive. I lasted for less than one minute before getting up with an “Alright then, I’m coming.” 

Eventually though I had to put a stop to this. When next she scratched to be let out, I got up. Not to let her out but to give her a piece of my mind. "Halley," I said, "this has to stop. You've been in and out all night. It's late, it's dark and it's cold. Now stop it and go to sleep!" And would you believe it, it worked. She turned tail and went to bed. 

I should have yelled sooner.

Day 67: Sleeping with cats

Between You, Me and the Lamp Post

Day 67: Sleeping with cats

Yesterday someone posted on Facebook “Do you let your cats sleep on your bed?” That got a chuckle from me. A better question would have been “Do your cats let you sleep in your bed?”

For me, it’s every night more or less a battle. I have four cats, and they all want to sleep with me. When I go to bed, Halley and Charlotte are fast asleep at the foot end of the bed, while Holly and Greyson are near the pillows.

When I ask “Guys, can I get a spot?” they raise their heads and seem to say ... you can try. Which I do. I squeeze my way under the duvet as to not disturb them and often find myself in an uncomfortable position.

I try to get comfortable, but my four little buggers don’t move. When I stick my feet under Charlotte and try to get her to move, she bobs up and down and goes with the flow. Meanwhile, Halley gives me a look that says ... will you leave her alone, she’s sleeping.

Okay so eventually I’m ready for sleep, but now comes the next phase. Every night, and I do mean every night, Greyson comes and sits on my chest and nibbles on my ears. This can take anywhere from one minute to ten minutes. This taken care of, he gives me kisses. And he kisses like the French ... first right, then left, then right again. Then he moves to go to sleep.

I turn over and try to go to sleep as well. I do say try because it’s not that easy. Now Holly makes it known that she wants to be petted. Obligingly I pet her head, her cheeks, and her body. Sometimes she has enough after a little while, other times as soon as I stop she touches my hand with her paw as if to say ... keep going.

Finally, finally, everyone is happy and I can go to sleep. Sometimes that works, other times one of them throws a spanner in the wheel. Like yesterday for instance. I was drifting off nicely when suddenly ... wham, I got hit in the face by a tail. Charlotte must have been dreaming, must have been upset in her dream, because her tail was swooshing and I was on the receiving end of it.

Sleeping with cats ... let me tell you, it’s not that easy. They take up all the space, they clamber all over you, they walk over your hair, they come and purr in your ear ... but ... now that it’s getting colder, they keep you nice and warm.

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Day 63: Who wants ...

Between You, Me and the Lamp Post

Day 63: Who wants ...

Isn’t that the most adorable picture you’ve ever seen? It’s like someone asked ‘Who wants food?’ or ‘Who wants chicken?’

Mind you, if you were to put that question to my cats, the answer might be ‘Can I get back to you on that one.’

My cats are notoriously picky eaters. Over the years I’ve tried just about every brand on the shelves and it’s been an uphill struggle.

For years my cats got fed on Whiskas and Purina and they lived anywhere from 13 to 20 years. Then someone said that neither of those brands was very good and that I should switch to a more quality food. So I did. Instead of the supermarket I went to the pet store, talked to the proprietor and bought everything she recommended. 

Feeling thoroughly chuffed I went on my way. No more Whiskas or Purina for my cats. From now on they were going to get the good stuff. My feel-good mood didn’t last long. When I spooned the quality meat on the cats’ plates that night they took one whiff and turned their backs on it.

'Introduce the new food gradually,' a friend said. 'Give them a can of the old food and mix in a quarter of the new food. That will do it.' She was wrong. Charlotte, Holly, Halley, and Greyson eagerly ate everything on their plate ... except for the new food. 

I went back to the pet store, explained what happened and the woman smiled and nodded in understanding. ‘Yeah, cats can be finicky,’ she stated. ‘Try something different. Sometimes when switching cats to better food it can be a hit and miss.’ Yeah, no kidding.

‘Give them raw meat,’ another friend suggested. ‘I give my cats raw food. Not always, but as a treat.’ I agreed to try it and she brought me a type of bird (can’t remember the name) all neatly cut up. ‘Don’t worry about the bones,’ she said. ‘The cats won’t choke on them. Mine eat this all the time.’

When I spooned the raw meat onto plates I thought Charlotte, Holly, Halley, and Greyson would be all over it and go nuts to get a piece, but I was in for a surprise. Not only were they not interested in the raw meat, they ran away from it. They didn’t just turn tail, they actually ran.

Eventually, after trying several brands, they seemed to like Weruva, especially Mac & Jack. Not on its own though, I still have to mix the meat with Whiskas, Purina, or Iams.

‘Don’t feel bad,’ a colleague said. ‘My cats are even worse. They won’t eat anything except 9 Lives. I mean really, 9 Lives! That’s just about the bottom of the barrel, but they like it.’

I guess there’s no accounting for taste and it’s the same with humans. Some people love the taste of seafood, meat, and veggies, others won’t touch it.

___________________

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Day39: Did I do that?

Between You, Me and the Lamp Post

Day39: Did I do that?

I have a little magnet calendar on my fridge. Every day it shows a cute cat or kitten, or a quote. 

Yesterday it was this ...

Today it’s this ...

And yesterday it was a quote by Chris Evans:

“Cats are an example of peace and tranquility”

Hm, no offense to Chris Evans but she obviously has never met Halley and Greyson. Oh the both of them are peaceful and tranquil when they’re asleep, but when they’re awake ... hold on to your hat.

Take this morning for instance. The both of them were racing around the place at full tilt. They sprinted from the bedroom through the living room onto the balcony, only to return from the balcony via the kitchen, into the living room and back to the bedroom.

Charlotte and Holly stayed out of their way, as did I, because – not having breaks on their paws – they are an accident waiting for a place to happen.

Charlotte

Holly

Usually, nothing happens, Halley and Greyson eventually get tired and go to sleep. Today was different.

The balcony door had been open all morning. When I went to shower, I closed the door because I don’t like to leave them unsupervised. The balcony is perfectly safe, protected by double netting, but still, you never know what could happen.

Having finished my shower and morning routine, I came into the kitchen, Greyson saw me and got such a fright that he took off like an arrow from a bow and ran straight into the screen door. It’s a good thing I hadn’t closed the glass door, or he could have been hurt.

As it was, when he saw what he did he sped to by bedroom, dived under the bed and stayed there for a good ten minutes. When I went to check on him, the poor thing sat there with eyes as big as tea saucers.

I tried to coax him to come out but ah ah, he was having none of it. Eventually, he left his hiding place, slowly, carefully, placing one dainty paw in front of another. It’s never taken him that long to get from the bedroom to the living room.

When he went to take a look at the balcony screen door, or rather where the balcony screen door used to be, it was with a lot of sniffing and head bobbing. He gave a good impression of Steve Urkel’s ... Did I do that?

Day 25: Naughty cats

Between You, Me and the Lamp Post

Day 25: Naughty cats

Whenever I hear or read that cats shouldn’t be fed table scraps, I can’t help but smile. I never feed my cats scraps, but occasionally they’ve helped themselves or at least tried to.

Yesterday I was having lunch, a sandwich with Baby Bell cheese. I got up to pour myself a drink and when I came back Charlotte was eating the Baby Bell.

Over the years there have been other incidents but none funnier than the stunt Pitoe pulled.

Pitoe was a big white cat who loved to go hunting at night. This was before indoor cats became popular, when I lived in a suburb, in a quiet street with hardly any traffic.

During the day Pitoe would sleep or groom himself, but come nightfall he would position himself at the backdoor, look at us over his shoulder and the message was clear … let me out.

He would come back a few hours later with or without the catch of the day. Sometimes it was a mouse, other times a bird.

He caught his most famous catch on a Saturday afternoon. He’d strutted into our neighbor Christiana’s garden and a few minutes later we heard her shrieking “Pitoe, come back here! Pitoe, drop it!” Then to her husband “Constant, stop that cat!”

Hearing the commotion I went outside and saw Pitoe come running into our garden with … a string of sausages in his mouth and dragging them between his paws.

Somehow we managed to stop Pitoe, take the string of half fried sausages away from him and return them to Christiane. She told us that Pitoe had taken the sausages right off the frying pan.

Having lost his loot, Pitoe was set on revenge. And he got it.

One night, Mom took three pork chops out of the freezer. Knowing that we had to go out, she put the pork chops on a plate on top of a high cabinet to defrost. When we came home Mom started dinner and took the plate off the cabinet. She was more than a little surprised when one of them was missing. Not the biggest one, not the smallest one, but the middle one.

Sometime later another stunt.

Mom had made brochettes. I was the first at the table and tried to push the meat pieces off the wooden stick with my fork. After putting some effort into it, a piece of meat suddenly came off, flew off my plate, and skidded across the table. Quick as lightning Pitoe’s paw grabbed the meat and he ran off with it.

It was only later that I learned how dangerous it is when cats eat human food. I had given one of our cats, Rocky, a piece of meat. Shortly afterward I noticed him under a chair making strange movements with his head. 

With a shock, I realized that he was choking on something. I rushed him to the vet who managed to get the piece of meat out of his throat. That was the last time I ever fed a cat off the table.

That’s not to say that they never get anything. Holly, for instance, is very fond of strawberries. 

Day 5: All about Halley

Between You, Me and the Lamp Post

Day 5: All about Halley

Yesterday I talked about Greyson a little in ‘Can cats talk’. Today it’s Halley’s turn as she is quite a character too.

Halley is about a year and a half old and right off the bat we knew we were going to have our hands full with her.

As an eight week old kitten, she was super energetic which the older cats Charlotte (16)and Holly (6) didn’t appreciate. That’s why we decided to adopt Greyson, as a playmate and it worked wonders. Charlotte and Holly were left in peace while Halley and Greyson got on like a house on fire.

As Halley grew up she developed some strange habits. She took an interest in computers, was a keen TV watcher, loved to jump in the first at every opportunity, enjoyed the outdoors, and most of all she liked to relax with Greyson.

Now, whenever one of us visits the bathroom, she comes flying out of nowhere to go with us. In the event that she’s out on the balcony and Dieter goes to the bathroom, all he has to do is call ‘Halley, are you coming?’ and she comes racing.

And it’s really weird. Anywhere outside the bathroom, Halley is a rather aloof cat. Doesn’t like to be petted and shrinks away when I reach for her. But in the bathroom, she’s all over me. She purrs, she stands on her hind legs to be petted, when stroked and tickled she can’t get enough, and even lies down in front of the door so I can’t get out. She's a totally different cat in these surroundings.

Unfortunately, she also has an annoying habit … just about every day she wakes us up at some ungodly hour. When she sees first light she jumps  on Dieter’s bed and taps him lightly on the nose. When he ignores her, she does it again and again. When he swats her paw away and turns over for a few more hours of sleep, she jumps off the bed ready for plan B.

She moves to the door, stands on her hind legs, raised her front paws to the door and puts all her bodyweight behind those paws, causing the door to slam shut.

After Dieter has gone out to work she moves to my bedroom and starts her nonsense with me with a few variations.

First she lies down next to me and purrs (loudly) in my ear.

When I turn over she comes and sits on me. With an estimated body weight of about 20 lbs that is nothing to sneeze at.

Still seated on top of me, she taps my nose a few times, followed by a lick and a soft bite. Cute as it may seem, at 6:00 a.m. I’m having none of it and I tell Halley in no uncertain terms to bugger off and let me sleep.

She, in turn, is having none of that. She jumps off the bed, goes to the door and slams it shut as previously described. Before long, she or one of the other cats want to go out and cry for the door to be opened.

Yesterday morning she was at it again and shortly after Halley had slammed the door, Holly wanted to go out. At first I tried to ignore her, but it’s impossible to ignore a crying cat, sooner or later you have to give in. So, I stumbled out of bed, let Holly out and on my way back I hit my shin on the corner of the bed. I’m now sporting a beautiful swollen blue bump on my leg.

Thinking that I was awake and ready to go Charlotte jumped on the bed, followed by Greyson. While Charlotte merely lies down next to me, Greyson trampled all over me in an effort to get to my ears. He likes to give kisses you see, and he kisses like the French … left, right, left.

In the end, I gave up and got up. Right outside the door, Halley was waiting for me, ready to accompany me for my morning shower.

What will the day bring ... who knows, with Halley there's never a dull moment.

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