When I was four years old I got a cat for my birthday. Almost 15 years later and I’ve still got him! I’ll blog about the birthday event later because I was pretty funny as a four year old, but right now I need to get this off my chest.
As I said, 15 years. I’ve had my cat, Stanley, for FIFTEEN YEARS. They’ve been good and solid! But now he officially qualifies as an old cat. An obnoxious old cat. In his old age he has actually become a lot more relaxed, less territorial (stopped pissing on everything). However, he has also developed much more of a voice. He meows. He doesn’t just meow, he howls, and screams, and harasses me! When he wants food, he meows. When he has food but wants the better food, he howls. When he has the better food, but it got cold or pushed around, he keeps howling. When his water dish is a little dirty, he meows. When his litter box is dirty, he meows. When literally nothing is wrong, he meows. Sometimes holding him on my lap will quiet him down for a bit, but if I have to get up, he complains.
He’s also figured out how to use his paws to get my attention. For instance, when I go to the bathroom, he wants to sit on my lap. He communicates this by sitting next to the toilet and lightly batting at my leg. With his claws out. Gently, no scratch marks left ever, but it’s annoying as all hell.
I love my cat, but never did I think I would scream “shut up” at an animal alone in my room.