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The Watercooler
Another cat story.
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<blockquote data-quote="Abbey" data-source="post: 355470" data-attributes="member: 179"><p>I love my cats. They came from the shelter in a package of three. They had names...Kayla, Tonka and Rascal. After the first week they got renamed as I couldn't remember their names so I went by personality. Now there is Mama, kittie (not very creative there) and...well, here's the story.</p><p></p><p>Rascal was appropriately named. He IS a rascal. He ended up being called 'fattie.' Don't mean to offend anyone, but he is. I also call him 'fainting goat,' or FB. He LIVES to see me go into the bathroom. As soon as I do, he knows how to open the door. He'll come in talking up a storm then promptly sit on the scale next to the toilet. I know he's 24 pounds. If I reach down to pet him he drops to the floor like a fainting goat.</p><p></p><p>Now here is the other name for that rascal. He's Superman. He can open any door, cupboard or box in the house. This cat can <strong>JUMP</strong>. I watched him one day leap his 24 pounds from the kitchen floor to the top of the fridge. He will jump and jump at a door handle until he gets it open. I'm getting a tad nervous as it has warmed up a tad here so I leave the main door open. He jumps at that glass door constantly. I'm going to have to start locking it.</p><p></p><p>The last thing that the rascal does is jump onto me in the middle of the night when I have a full bladder.<img src="/community/styles/default/xenforo/smilies/tongue.png" class="smilie" loading="lazy" alt=":tongue:" title="tongue :tongue:" data-shortname=":tongue:" /> Not pleasurable. Whey he can't jump onto my legs...head...anywhere else is a mystery to me.</p><p></p><p>These three furry friends have been more of a comfort to me than words can describe. H gets upset when I multiple times during the day just sit for one minute and pet one of them who is crying for attention. I think they're better than the anti-depressant I am taking.</p><p></p><p>Love my kitties.</p><p></p><p>Abbey</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Abbey, post: 355470, member: 179"] I love my cats. They came from the shelter in a package of three. They had names...Kayla, Tonka and Rascal. After the first week they got renamed as I couldn't remember their names so I went by personality. Now there is Mama, kittie (not very creative there) and...well, here's the story. Rascal was appropriately named. He IS a rascal. He ended up being called 'fattie.' Don't mean to offend anyone, but he is. I also call him 'fainting goat,' or FB. He LIVES to see me go into the bathroom. As soon as I do, he knows how to open the door. He'll come in talking up a storm then promptly sit on the scale next to the toilet. I know he's 24 pounds. If I reach down to pet him he drops to the floor like a fainting goat. Now here is the other name for that rascal. He's Superman. He can open any door, cupboard or box in the house. This cat can [B]JUMP[/B]. I watched him one day leap his 24 pounds from the kitchen floor to the top of the fridge. He will jump and jump at a door handle until he gets it open. I'm getting a tad nervous as it has warmed up a tad here so I leave the main door open. He jumps at that glass door constantly. I'm going to have to start locking it. The last thing that the rascal does is jump onto me in the middle of the night when I have a full bladder.:raspberry-tounge: Not pleasurable. Whey he can't jump onto my legs...head...anywhere else is a mystery to me. These three furry friends have been more of a comfort to me than words can describe. H gets upset when I multiple times during the day just sit for one minute and pet one of them who is crying for attention. I think they're better than the anti-depressant I am taking. Love my kitties. Abbey [/QUOTE]
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