Posts Tagged ‘G’
Saturday, August 2nd, 2014
Note the supercilious expression... Not to be confused with supersilly.
What makes Gabriel so mean?
Gabriel isn’t even a year old but I suspect is gifted mentally. He enjoys watching movies with me, reads Cat Fancy, Cosmopolitan and The Purpose Driven Life. At least he confiscated the book from my personal library and has never returned it!
Unfortunately most of the time Gabriel uses his intelligence for evil, not good. He has decided (after reading Cosmo) that he will be the ONLY man of the house. When any male friends enter the apartment, Gabriel launches a full attack of hisses, bites, and he loves to trip (he sent my friend crashing into the dining room table by strategically placing himself under his feet while he was carrying food). Gabriel doesn’t quit the harassment until blood is drawn and the male intruder leaves.
Gabriel then punishes me for daring to invite men into his castle. The punishment can last for days and is both psychological and physical. He waits until I am asleep and bolts underneath the covers, puncturing my feet with his teeth. If he doesn’t have a taste for flesh that evening, he spends the whole night howling at the moon like a coyote.
It's actually the only one I've got (supercilious). Mama always said, watch out or your face will freeze that way. Truth!
Gabriel insists on wet food at precisely 6:00 am every morning. If I am not up, he cuddles next to my face and purrs. He fools me every time because I think he is being lovey, but if I dare drift back to sleep he bites my nose HARD. He has drawn blood. If that doesn’t scare me out of bed, he comes back and bites my lip.
I work from home, and like a small child, Gabriel doesn’t understand quiet time. I can always count on him to open the kitchen cabinets and remove all the pots and pans onto the kitchen floor when I am busy. He then moves into the bedroom and systematically knocks over perfume bottles, hair brushes, books and anything I have on the dresser. His favorite seems to be the cd tower as it makes the loudest noise when it comes crashing down.
If I had a dollar for every day that I had to work typing with one hand because he was asleep on my arm, I would be rich! I don’t dare move him though; I know too well his revenge will come later in the night when I am fast asleep…
Photo submitted by: Tia
Tuesday, July 15th, 2014
It's a cat's prerogative. Yes, it's MY prerogative! That's a song title. I'd sing it but I lost my microphone.
What makes Gabbie so mean?
It’s not that Gabbie is so “mean”, per se, he’s just so darn BOSSY. He thinks he’s the boss of me, and he constantly demands I do this or that.
I want to go in the garage, I want a treat, give me a bite of your dinner, my feet are cold so don’t move, my feet are hot to get lost, open that blind so I can have more sun, close that blind so I can do sneak attacks on the birds, why have you been gone so long, I want to sleep on your head, turn down the t.v……..
It never ends.
Photo submitted by: Shawna
Friday, May 30th, 2014
Name: Gin Gin
Location: The Center of the Universe
Meow meow meow meow meow pet me meow meow meowwww.
What makes Gin Gin so mean?
Gin Gin is a six year old drama queen. She hates the dog. She hates other cats. She hates men. She tolerates those of us who live with her, but just barely. Gin constantly meows, but she gets her food, she just sniffs it and walks off. When I bend down to pet her, she scowls, swipes and runs away. Everything revolves around her in this world and she knows it.
Queen Gin Gin aka Center of the Universe Ruler of Many Human Slaves and Hater of Dogs
Submitted by: Barbara
Tuesday, May 27th, 2014
Greebo then. Awwwwwww!
What makes Greebo so mean?
Greebo and his 3 brothers were rescued at 2 weeks old–their mother had abandoned them. We took Greebo home at around 4 weeks old, and I hand fed him every 2 hours with a substitute mothers milk. I forgave the terrible scratches as hunger pangs. Now I think he got a taste of blood and never looked back.
Greebo and Binky--She Who Does Not Get To Eat Until Greebo Finishes.
Greebo is actually the devil in cat form. He has subdued Binky (the black cat) into letting him eat her food. He also ambushes her whenever possible, causing screams like you’ve never heard before on earth. We have 2 dogs (dachshunds. They don’t stand a chance) He rides the smaller one like a horse. He waits till she’s alone (mostly she slinks around looking very, very nervous) then he leaps onto her back and rides her like a bucking bronco round the living room. The other dog, Greebo likes to wait til he’s wagging his tail then he swats it, making the dog wonder what the heck hit him (he’s not a very bright dog).
Meankitty’s note — what dogs are bright?
Meankitty’s other note — would pay top catnip dollar for the horse-riding picture.
His favourite hobby is sitting on the sink staring, ust staring at the dripping tap. It fascinates him. He cannot believe the drips disappear before he can grab them.
His second favourite hobby is going out at night, whatever the weather, so he can howl on my window ledge at 3 am. When I let him in, he likes to charge (soaking wet) across my head/face/torso and streak downstairs to howl at the front door to be let out. So he can do it again.
His name is Greebo from Nanny Ogg’s cat in the Discworld novels.
His nickname is Stripey B*stard. And I love him to death.
Submitted by: Helen
Thursday, May 1st, 2014
Location: Merrimack, NH
No, seriously. WERE you talking to me?
What makes Max so mean?
I have one mean cat named Max a.k.a. the Godfather. He has been a mean s.o.b. ever since he was a kitten. He leaves horse’s heads in our bed. Ok, not horse’s heads, but rodent heads. And he threatens to whack the other cats if they step out of line. Here he is at one of his scarier moments.
Submitted by: Sandy
Tuesday, March 25th, 2014
Location: Kaloomps, BC Canada
You can call me ugly...you can call me mean...you can call me slouchy...just don't call me fat! Or else.
What makes Gabba so mean?
Gabba wasn’t really a “mean kitty”, but she didn’t have either any trouble or hesitations of voicing her discomfort(s)/dislike(s) of people, places or things. From what I have heard calicos are just a wee bit tempermental. Her life before me granted her that right. Her former owner was a druggie and mistreated her in several ways Meankitty is opting not to share with delicate, underage viewers whose parents might get ticked off if we printed stuff like that. (!!) (And doesn’t that sound more ominous and dire than the real thing? Seriously. It’s all about the power of the imagination.) That sort of life style for people is hard enough, but to bring a cat(s) into must be equally as hard on the animal.
Once we crossed paths, I became her human. She had no trouble now being a fat and lazy cat. Most people called her “fat cat” when they first would see her, but I would put an end to it right there. Thought it was funny that people can say such things about an animal without giving it a second thought, but heaven forbid if I were to walk up to someone say, “You’re fat.” That would be considered very offensive. She seem to take all in stride, or just didn’t care.
She loved sitting on the couch, thus erned the the nickname “couch slouch” (darn good song by D.R.I.). Speaking of punk music she seemed to care little, or dare I say might even of liked some of the noise that blasted from my record player; just maybe she learned to put up with it. Her favorite toy was string on a stick, which taught me about the simple things in life. (Meankitty’s note: so would the 3 chords in a lot of punk rock *wink*) Feed her three times a day, play with her a bit, let her have her place on the couch and a snuggle before lights out, or while I read in bed, and she was extremly content with life.
When I did find her, she was already an old cat with some health issues. They slowly got worse, even more of them. After five great years of having her in my life, I lost her. Given her hard life, that was the “classy” way to let go.
The guy with charged hair and sun glasses in her picture is whom she is named after: Gabba from Chaos UK.
Submitted by: Chuckie Hardcore
RIP Mean Gabba!
Friday, September 20th, 2013
Ahhhh, perfect. A stationary victim!
What makes Gandalf so mean?
We got Gandalf from the SPCA. He likes to rest on my bedridden dad’s bed. He doesn’t like being picked up, and he’s real smart. He’ll go limp if you attempt to pick him up, and it’s more difficult to pick him up in that state. At other times, when you pick him up, he goes, “Meow???” and complains, then struggles out if you hold him too long, scratching you the the process.
If he’s doing something he’s not supposed to do, such as eating paper or my mom’s work, chewing wires, attempting to pull down my dad’s spare breathing tubes, or balancing on the windowsill of our 17th story apartment, drinking toilet bowl water and scratching the furniture, we tell him “NO!” and spray him with water. He’ll run away, then attempt to do it again. It’s not that he doesn’t know it’s wrong, but he likes to aggravate us, just like how he likes to parade himself in front of dogs who are unable to do anything except bark behind a wall of glass at the vet. Some dogs are even afraid of Gandalf, though they’re bigger than him.
Photo submitted by: Kevin
Friday, August 23rd, 2013
Location: Pacific NW
I can kill with my breath…it’s my mutant kitty secret weapon!
What makes Gypsy so mean?
The queen of mean in my house is Gypsy. I used to have a sweet little kitten. I don’t know what happened?!
She scratches: people, my other animals, the furniture. She bites the hand that feeds her. She’s EXTREMELY picky with her food; it has to be a certain brand and a certain flavour, which changes. When she’s had enough of one kind, she angrily tries to cover it up, with her ears back, giving me the stink eye. So I have to look for another kind she likes, which is not easy.
Even when she’s in a loving mood, it’s unpleasant. She perches on our shoulders whether we like it or not, and always when it’s inconvenient. Her breath is atrocious, and she drools. If she ever wanted to maim someone, she could just bite you, lick the wound, which would eventually become horribly infected, causing you to develop gangrene.
Sure, I’ve taken her to the vet, had her teeth cleaned and for a check-up. But there’s apparently nothing wrong and her breath is still noxious. If you pick her up to cuddle with her, or pay some attention to her, she allows it for 30 seconds then starts to get uppity.
She has terrible mood swings. One second she’ll be nicely cleaning the face of another cat, next second she’ll slap them across the face. If they flinch they’ll get another slap. Our dogs are the referees of cat fights. She runs from them, but always plots revenge. So they’ll be bound to get theirs when they least expect it.
Photo submitted by: Thora
Tuesday, June 25th, 2013
Name: Gus and Chloe, Chloe and Gus
We have to meet our weekly stampeding goals so we can remain members of the SOHC.
What makes Chloe & Gus so mean?
These two evil beings go by the names Gus and Chloe.
Chloe’s pastimes include:
licking, biting, kicking, knocking things over (especially if they are filled with liquid), drinking out of vessels NOT intended for cats, hanging off of the screen door, scratching, shredding furniture, staring, purring, and sleeping in this cozy little basket with her favorite purple blankie.
Gus is fond of:
standing in front of my monitor while I’m trying to work, eating things off of the counter, stealing socks, digging in plants, defecating in neighbors’ gardens, taking up 60% of the surface area of the bed, waking me up at 4am for no reason whatsoever, crunchy little plastic pieces, pooping in his litter box while his mom is cleaning it, begging for yogurt and sniffing things.
Gus and Chloe are fans of stampeding; it seems to be most enjoyable between the hours of 2am-5am. The goal is to run across a bed filled with sleeping humans, preferably across the facial area and preferably with claws OUT.
Submitted by: Dana
Tuesday, October 23rd, 2012
Name: George the Cat
I am bored with your silliness. Scram.
What makes George so mean?
My name is George and I shoot lasers out of my eyes. I have tricked my slaves into thinking that I am not a mean kitty, but they are fools! In the past I used to enjoy peeing on everything in sight. I have grown bored of such silliness, and now I poop on the spare bed for kicks. My brother Chairman Meow and I are big fans of random destruction. Our favourite game is to knock food from the kitchen counter onto the floor so that the family dog will gobble it down and then throw it up. We are such clever cats.
Submitted by: Chris