Thursday, June 07, 2007

Rusty Hooks, Red Balls, And Hairballs...

King da Cat has a lot of toys.

He uses them to torment us through the night.

He has two soft, plush, red balls with a white Swiss cross on them; those are his favorites.

What he likes to do is to pick them up in his mouth, one by one, and carry them around the apartment...while howling. His howling is somewhat reminiscent of a baby crying. The howling is loud...VERY LOUD...

...especially at 4 a.m.!

The neighbors on the floor below haven't said anything, but I'm sure they've heard him. They must have; he's that loud. Maybe they're afraid to say something to us because...

Perhaps they think that Mrs. TBF and I are the ones making all that noise. Who knows?

While Mrs. TBF was away this past week, King would come into the bedroom around 7:00 a.m. (that's after me having usually gone to bed at about 2:30 a.m.) attempting to wake me up so that I would feed him. I'd have heard him scratching in his litter box in the laundry room a few minutes earlier. Then, he would come into the room and give me what I like to call the "rusty hook". The "rusty hook" is when he scratches in the litter box, then runs into our bedroom, jumps on the bed, sticks his claw in my nostril, and...pulls! I'm not sure if the "hook" is really "rusty", but I'm sure that it is his intent to make me believe that it is.

He's very clever.

I've learned to ignore the "rusty hook". I'll just push him away, pull the duvet over my head, and then lie motionless as King marches over the length of my body no less than five times.

TBF: 1 King: 0

About an hour later, when I'm in the midst of the deepest R.E.M. sleep, King will come in carrying his red ball...howling...and he'll drop the ball next to the bed.

HA! Nice try!

TBF: 2 King: 0

A couple of hours later, usually between 10 a.m. and 11:00 a.m., King will park himself next to the bed and...cough up a gigantic hairball. I've learned to ignore the "rusty hook" and the howling/red ball show, but the sound of him hacking up a gigantic hairball just...gets to me. I immediately jump out of bed, attempting to avoid the wet hairball, and meet his demand: breakfast.

Victory: King!

His newest method of harassment is to carry his red balls up to the rooftop when we're sitting up there just relaxing. We'll often leave the doors to our apartment AND the rooftop open while we're up there so that King can go up and down (he can't get below our floor to harass the other residents...yet) as he pleases. A couple of evenings ago, I was sitting up there reading a magazine when I suddenly heard the familiar howling echoing in our building's stairwell. I looked up just in time to see King dropping one of his red balls under our bench.

He's nineteen years old! How much longer can this go on??? More importantly...

What's next?

7 comments:

cncz said...

I love your King stories. Your cat is my hero. I hope he breaks a kitty longevity record.

You know my grandma would do weird stuff, and when we asked her why, she said it was because she was old and didn't care any more. Maybe King shares this philosophy.

Capt'n Dale said...

Great work, buddy! I tend to lick first their noses until they disappear under the duvet. They usually forget that they have either a finger or a bit of arm or leg/foot sticking out, so I lick there again. Humans don't seem to appreciate our rough tongues. Anyway, if they persist, I just keep walking over them. Try the bladder. It always works!

Capt'n Dale said...

Great work, buddy! I tend to lick first their noses until they disappear under the duvet. They usually forget that they have either a finger or a bit of arm or leg/foot sticking out, so I lick there again. Humans don't seem to appreciate our rough tongues. Anyway, if they persist, I just keep walking over them. Try the bladder. It always works!

P. said...

Nineteen! He looks great for a nineteen year old cat. I'm afraid you probably have many more rusty hooks coming in the future.

Expat Traveler said...

what a guy! See who really rules the house...

By the way, I didn't know you don't have a passport from the good ol US...

tobias said...

You just got to love cats. The old cat we had when I was a kid woke me up a few times by scratching the floor. The way cats do before they pee. That got me flying, I promise.

RPC said...

King's howling is like what just one of our six cats, a female, often does with a toy -- a blue mouse, usually. She's done it since she was about 5 years old (she was a stray, so we're guessing about age) and we think it's a bid for attention. Something like: "Look at me, the mighty huntress! I caught something for you!" If King were an outdoor cat he'd be bringing you dead rodents and snakes to show his love.