Thursday, February 19, 2009

Meansweet Mancat

My cats do the oddest things.

Beans has started "kneading" my eye sockets. She's persistent. My arms won't do, or my tummy, or my legs. Her two front paws must be on my eyelids and she kneads them until I just cannot take anymore. Why does she do that? Crazy. She has also laid claim to my new laptop. Beans LOVES it. She lays next to it. When it's open, she rubs her mouth on it, her teeth scraping the corners. No doubt about it: it's hers.

Tarzan, Meansweet Mancat, is just as evil as ever, and amazingly, the more evil he becomes, the more I seem to adore him and think him sweet. I think that's an emotional disorder...

Anyway, he purrs as he bites. He loves being mean. It brings him joy. He's so visceral, and I find it fascinating. It really is like living with a small tiger. He'd steal the food from my mouth if I'd allow it. He tries! If he wants attention, he will bat me with his paws. When I don't give it quickly, he'll jump up from the floor and bat my face.

T-Man can can open some of the interior doors in the house. A few of them are lever-style handles, and he jumps up and bats them, loosening the latch just enough to open the doors. He tries it with the back door of the house, but that lever handle is solid brass and too heavy for him. Doesn't stop him from attempting over and over and over. That's how we know he wants back in the house. We hear him hitting the doorknob with his paws.

He loves me, but he wants to kill me at the same time. (I bet he's not the only one with that dilemma.) Actually, I think he thinks he DOES kill me. I fake dead for him, at any rate. He seems very satisfied.

He's trying to kill me by tripping me on the stairs. He lays flat on any random stair step and I have fallen twice already trying to avoid him while going down the stairs late at night. The second time I fell, he literally jumped on me at the bottom of the stairs, where I was sprawled on the floor, and tried to finish me off by chewing me until I was dead with death. Thank goodness Tarzan didn't succeed! Who would change his litter and fill his food bowl were he to finish me off?

Early one morning, I was going pee-pee, just minding my own business, when I heard purring behind the toilet. I looked back just in time to see Tarzan leap out to attack me. He bit my thigh as hard as he could and darted away in a sideways puff.

He is gorgeous. His fur is rich and thick and heavenly. No one can resist his luscious tummy. He lays sprawled out on his back and it's simply irresistible. I must rub that gold and black striped belly. But, it's a trick. He's like a Venus Flytrap. A Tarzan Handtrap. He waits and when the hand touches his furry middle, he wraps around it and kills it 'till it's dead. I have hands covered in scratches. But I can't stop. I fall for his trick every time.

I get too much joy out of a couple of cats. I'm a weirdo.

Tarzan Handtrap:

Tarzan Handtrap



  1. Aww, cute! I don't think I'd be able to resist petting that kitty cat's tummy or chest, either.

    My own cat's belly fur is silky soft, but she protects it very vigilantly.

  2. From Jonathan Safran Foer's novel, Extremely Loud And Incredibly Close:

    I woke up once in the middle of the night, and Buckminster's paws were on my eyelids. He must have been feeling my nightmares.

  3. Now I'll have to read that book, SK.