Archive for June, 2011
Thursday, June 30th, 2011
I try to be a good human slave to my kitties. I work a job that makes enough money so I can shower them with treats, tuna and trees, and I pet them anytime they want. The ones that want to be brushed (Skooter and Kokojojo), I brush. The ones that don’t (Nancy and Herb), I don’t. I hire a very nice petsitter whenever I have to be gone more than one day on business, and everyone who comes over to my house knows that they aren’t allowed to push the cats out of the seats. The cats come first in my life!
The problem is, I don’t think my cats ever SLEEP! When I get home they throng around me as if I had venison in my pockets but I hardly ever do. They jump on the counter when I cook, they stare at me from the other chairs when I eat dinner. They sit all over me when I watch tv and they follow me around when I clean house and also up and down the road when I jog for exercise. Then, all night long, they tussle and yowl and keep me awake.
Meankitty, I don’t want to prevent their high life, but I’m not getting enough sleep!
They sleep when you aren’t there. And actually, they take shifts through the night yowling so two can be on duty while the others can be off duty. You’re being punished for being a dog in a previous life, but it’s possible your ordeal may be nearly over.
Or not. Just learn to sleep-work.
Wednesday, June 29th, 2011
Name: Barbie Q
Toby the stuffed cat is smarter than my humans.
What makes Barbie so mean?
We got this cute, petite little kitty about 6 years ago. The first year was pretty uneventful, regular cute kitten stuff, but after she matured, look out! She hates all other cats. I have enclosed a photo of her with Toby, the only cat she will tolerate. When other cats get too close, she screams in their face. She wakes us all up in the middle of the night sometimes because one of the other cats dared get into her space.
She sleeps next to me in bed, and if I have to get up for ANY reason, she has a fit. This includes howling, hissing, and becoming immobile. She has another endearing trait. If she goes outside at night, she climbs up on the roof of the house (via a convenient tree) and runs back and forth. Did I mention she has a loud, loud voice? She knows right where our bedroom window is and she will howl there, run across to the other side of the house, and then run back.
If you decide to let her in, she will howl even louder. After 10 minutes of coaxing, she will maybe come back in. Meanwhile you are now freezing and thoroughly awake.
If you're another feline, then you're not fine with me. Scram! PS I hate dogs more.
Barbie has another endearing habit: she doesn’t eat. She will watch everyone else eat, and when all the dishes are empty, she will finally decide she is hungry. So you have to feed her specially, since of course there is no food left.
Submitted by: Mimi
Tuesday, June 28th, 2011
Location: Various Car Motors
Who, me hitch rides in cars? You have to be joking. I actually apparated to that parking lot.
What makes Banshee so mean?
It all began one day when I arrived the rapid transit station to go to work (to support the habits of my kitten Pixie, of course). When I exited my car, I heard a kitten crying at the top of her lungs. I saw her and thought, “Oooh, cute little black kitty needs help.” This was my first mistake.
My second mistake was that I tried and succeeded in catching her. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get any help so I let the kitten go and got a tetanus shot — I’d been bitten and scratched quite a bit. I figured that was the end of the ordeal, but…
The next day I returned to the station to witness the same scene. I arrived at work and enlisted a rescue organization to catch the kitten. They notified me she had outwitted them so I foolishly returned from work with a box that evening. What followed was a scene that again proved I was the lesser being. I saw the kitten, she saw me, and the chase ensued until she ran into the engine block of a car where I couldn’t bother her further.
As if I hadn’t shamed myself enough, I waited for the driver of the car and convinced him that he had a kitten in his car. After he looked under the hood, honked the horn, etc., I let him go home. I was happy that when he started his car I didn’t hear or see anything unpleasant.
A couple of hours later, I received a phone call from the man with the car that I thought the kitten had hidden in. He informed me that their car was meowing and asked that I make it stop by removing the kitten.
Thus, my fiancé and I drove to the shopping center where the Cat-Mobile was parked. A quick scan of the engine area with a flashlight showed us that the little stow-away was quite rattled, but feisty as ever. We attempted to cool down the metal surrounding her, but missed and got her with the water. Thus, she ran out of the car and across the parking lot into some bushes. Three of us followed and searched the bushes for her until she darted out and headed straight for another car which she proceeded to crawl into.
At this point, I ran into the store across from the car and asked if anyone drove that particular make and color. A woman claimed the car and (after a bit of convincing) opened the hood. The final chase ensued within the car and ended with the kitten running into the wheel well and being caught!
I'm one of the youngest ever SOHC kitten inductees! It was all about making my mark.
We brought the kitten home, much to the chagrin of our kitten Pixie (who’s become a meankitty in response to her domain having been breached by another cat). We bathed her, fed her and gave her a nice bed to sleep in. She continued to cry all night long at the top of her lungs (hence she was named after the wailing Irish fairy). Within the next couple of days, we took her to the vet, cleaned up the fleas she brought with her and brought her back to good health. Since then, she’s showcased split personalities – one moment, she’s sweet and purrs and insists on being petted (my husband doesn’t buy it!); the next, she’s knocking over the plants, clawing the rug, pottying in the flowers and teaching Pixie more meankitty habits.
Submitted by: Melissa
Monday, June 27th, 2011
I don't bite you because I'm mean...it's because you taste better than that awful cheap cat chow!
What makes Banjo so mean?
Banjo, also known as “Bendy” because of a little kink in his tail, is a meankitty because he is neurotic. You see, Banjo likes to catch things, but he doesn’t like to kill them. So, if he catches a mouse, he brings it in the house and lets it go, where it becomes the responsibility of one of the other cats in the house. (See: Sage)
Also, Banjo seems to have a problem with doors. He’s always on the wrong side. If you close a door, he insists that you open it so he can get to the other side. Close it again and… well, you get the idea. If you ignore him, he jumps up with claws extended and does a “cartoon drag” down the length of the door, or in the case of the back door, hangs from the window sill, leaving little claw holes in the expensive wood.
The last reason Banjo is a meankitty is because he bites. He doesn’t seem to bite when he is mad. When he’s mad he just runs away. No, he bites you when he is happy or content. When you pet him, or make room for him under the covers, he carefully and forcefully bites you on the arm or hand, as if it is his way of saying “Thank You”.
Submitted by: John
Sunday, June 26th, 2011
Name: Baldric Velcro
Location: Brisbane, Australia
Your essay stinks! You're gonna flunk out of uni! (Meankitty demotivational squad chang #255)
What makes Baldric so mean?
This is my meankitty, originally named Baldric Velcro, referred to cooingly for a while as “kitten” but now referred to as “you little bugger”. I got her to replace my half-wild but much loved Asimov, who had been run over a few months before. I had gone in to the SPCA looking especially for a docile lapcat (for a change) and my flatmate and I decided on the tiny grey kitten who was curled quietly in her basket. It turned out she was only docile because she was heavily drugged post-hysterectomy. Since the drugs wore off (November last year) she’s been a ball of highly nervous, anxious energy.
Initially I tried to train her, with treats and toys, to sleep at my feet during the night. She settled for attacking my feet/sucking my toes for a few hours, then roosting near my neck until I finally fell asleep. Then she would climb happily onto my face, settle down and start purring. Six insomniac months followed as I tried all different humane behavioral methods to change this behavior. My boyfriend found a simple method: throwing her to the end of the bed. I thought it was too cruel but she accepted it with equanimity.
Kitten grew up in an enclosed room at the SPCA and as a result, has never accepted that she could possibly poo or pee anywhere but inside the house. Her litter box, cleaned twice daily, is in a secluded corner of my room, but sometimes it’s not quite good enough. The bath is lovely and inviting, she finds. She has decorated it on about 20 occasions. Also a discarded shirt of my boyfriend’s, and (recently) my assignment notes from Uni. (Literary criticism, perhaps? The assignment got top marks, so I was quite offended). She also vomits quite often, always inside, sometimes through massively overeating and sometimes through her interesting idea of afternoon tea (two mainly dead cockroaches followed by a drink of toilet water). I change her personal waterbowl twice a day, but it doesn’t have that same savour.
Kitten lacks loyalty to her caregivers, is not highly intelligent, and as previously noted, has some masochist tendencies. She now prefers to sleep in my chain-smoking flatmate Norman’s sock drawer. Norman is a lad who picks her up and throws her about, dangles her out of windows, smooshes her face around, kicks her occasionally etc. Instead of hiding in her haven here upstairs with the two flatmates who love her, she brings Norman dead insects (and once, a dead bird) trophies and stays in his room whenever possible. She also sits on his belly and purrs while he chain-smokes in front of TV.
She has only caught animals once: when she happened on what was probably a rat nest. Through an evening when several visitors came over, she periodically would bring in one poor pink blind baby animal, bat it about (they let out a pitiful “meep!” each time they were hit) and would eventually eat them, unless i rescued them first… Ugh.
She hasn’t forgiven me for starting work a few months ago, and recoils whenever I come near her. This morning was the first time in a semester that she stayed around and came over for a purr and a pat when I was in the room.
Submitted by: M. Martens
Saturday, June 25th, 2011
My dog Bijou and I found a little Persian on one of our walks. Someone had dumped her and she had been fending for herself for quite sometime. We actually had to trap her and get her checked out at the vet. She has been with us for 6 months now and still does not let either one of us get too near her. But she doesn’t seem to mind the steady diet of catfood and enjoys her regular groomings. She weighed in at just under 4 lbs when we found here and now tops the scaled at 8. Does anyone have any tips for us and how we can get her to at least tolerate our presence in the same airspace?
Since she lets you groom her, you can get one of those grooming mitts that goes on your hand like a glove. Perhaps she will allow that. And perhaps some cat toys, like a feather and a string on a stick? If not, you’re going to have to start carrying catfood in your pockets and a brush in your hand. But don’t worry, you’ll have all kinds of kitty friends if you do! Let the other humans turn up their noses at your odd smell. Your kitty friends are worth their weight in tuna.
Saturday, June 25th, 2011
Location: Some Dude’s House
I don't crave your blood. I crave your death!
What makes Balding so mean?
Here is a pic of the meanest cat I own. He likes to attack people but mostly me.
About 5 seconds after I took this pic he tried to eat my hand. I took a shot of that, but all you see is blur since I was trying to pry his skin-shredding claws from my arm. I think it was the flash of the camera that got him pissed this time. Then again the taste of human blood once is more than enough to make a kitty crave it.
Photo submitted by: Some Dude
Friday, June 24th, 2011
Little do they know I use my secret cat-bat sonar to track them down. Who needs eyes?
What makes Badger so mean?
The picture is of Badger, an “office cat” at my work place – The Cat Doctor of Maine. (It’s a vet, but as the name specifies, we only care for cats.)
Badger was brought into The Cat Doctor at the age of apx. 6 months old with two major problems:
1. A stray kitten, his fur was falling out from a staph infection he had picked up on the streets.
2. Well meaning people who caught him and tried to treat him for the above had put a homeopathic solution on his head, which in turn got into his eyes, blinding him.
Since the people who had initially caught and tried to treat him didn’t want to deal with a blind cat, they signed him over to The Cat Doctor. I’ve been told (as I wasn’t here at the time) that, over the next 6 months, Badger ended up losing ALL his fur and getting painful boils all over his body.
With daily treatments, he grew all his fur back and his eyes were eventually removed for his comfort, but he has never forgiven the humans who hurt him. Employees and customers alike get treated to his nasty attitude, especially those who make the mistake of petting him without “asking” first! Since he’s never been declawed and has all his teeth, he can be a formidable beast even if he has to hunt you down by smell.
And Badger WILL hunt you down – especially when we have to knock him out to clean wax out of his ears or give him his annual exam. Anyone foolish enough to speak, even while he’s fully asleep, will suffer his wrath as soon as he’s awake again and mobile!
Blind or sighted, Badger is one of the meanest meankitties I’ve ever met.
Submitted by: Debi
PS: Just because it can never be said enough, badger badger badger badger mushroom mushroom! http://www.badgerbadgerbadger.com/
Thursday, June 23rd, 2011
This is not belly. I want to lay on belly! Soft, doughy, warm belly.
What makes Bailey so mean?
My name is Bailey and my humans call me Bailey Monster. Don’t try to sit on the couch, put your feet up and relax. I will be there to knead your belly until it hurts. I will do this no matter what you are doing. I will shove a laptop or plate of food out of my way. It just makes me so happy to knead your soft, doughy belly. When I am doing my evil deed and really start feeling good, I close my eyes, purr, and turn my face up to the sky. As if I am saying, “Ahhh, my doughy, precious human”!
Don’t try to lay down on the couch or the bed. I will be there to knead your chest or side or whatever I can climb on. Then I will fall asleep laying on top and be really annoyed if you want to change position or roll over.
When I am tired of kneading you, I lay on the couch next to you and kick you with my back legs. Then I pass really horrible gas, so you have to get up and leave. Ha Ha!
This is my Winston Churchhill impression. I hear he was doughy and precious.
I will act all lovable, but if you try to hold me or cuddle me, my eyes get really big, my body gets stiff and I panic! Then, 10 seconds later, I come back to force myself on your belly. All affection must be on my terms only. Speaking of my eyes, I generate eye boogers that I wipe on anything white in the house. Walls, sheets, quilts, pillows, myself, you, whatever will do. My eye boogers are nice and brown so they stain. Ha! Ha! You should see my slaves try to clean up those eye boogers.
Sometimes I get high on catnip and then I get aggressive. I chase my brothers and beat them up and cuss them out.
I cry and whine constantly because I have learned that this is how to get my way. The only way to make me stop crying is to pet me. But don’t pick me up.
Now lay down, human, and let me have my way with your belly!
Submitted by: Margeaux
Wednesday, June 22nd, 2011
Can't scratch, too busy sleeping.
What makes Ayane so mean?
This is Ayane, my meankitty. She has a split personality. She is ok with me, though she doesn’t care to be held. If anyone other than myself enters the bedroom, she immediately starts growling. She growls and hisses up a storm. If my 11 year old brother comes in the room she is louder than normal. She has even gone so far as to come out from under the bed and attack my brother. She has lunged for him several times, grabbing onto his ankles.
I've got the boy-child cornered in there...heh heh heh.
She can only be pet and paid attention to, short of holding, when she is in her “happy place”. She is always nicer and calmer when she is in a regular bathroom. Her behavior has led her 20 lb brother cat to also chase after my brother. His name is Amano. He has a tendency to be a meankitty, but not compared to Ayane.
Submitted by: Michelle