When Cats Fail You

Yesterday I wrote about how happy I was that I have cats, not kids (or McDonald’s).

Today Biddy reminded me that cats aren’t always perfect.

I just got home a few minutes ago. I scratched Walter, gave Biddy some treats, and started slipping into something more comfortable (for me, not the cats). Meanwhile, Biddy jumped up on the bed with a wild look in his eyes.

You may be familiar with a game you can play with cats that involves you making a rapid motion with your hand under the bed sheets. The cat thinks something amazing is under there (a bird! A mouse! A signed first edition of Cat’s Cradle!) and pounces on it.

Over the years, Biddy has become jaded and critical of this game. He knows there’s nothing interesting under the sheets. Walter, however, is quite susceptible to it, but Walter has front claws, so it’s painful to play this game with him.

So when I saw the wild look in Biddy’s eyes, I thought I might try the sheet game for old time’s sake.

Remarkably, he responded to the game. He pounced on my hand for a second and then jumped backwards to furiously dig at the sheets. I love it when cats “dig,” so this delighted me to no end. Clearly he was trying to dig at the amazing thing under the sheets.

biddy desk post-poopAfter a good 15 seconds of digging, he paused, and I caught his attention with some more rapid movement. Again he pounced and then retreated to dig, even more furiously this time. I repeated this one more time and then retracted my hand to watch him dig.

When he finished the final dig, he got a far-off look in his eyes and arched his back a little.

Then he released a massive dump on the bed.

I watched it happen in slow motion. It was too late for me to stop it. And even while it was happening, I realized what I had done by encouraging the digging. Cats dig in their litter box before they go to the bathroom, and I had encouraged the digging, which probably triggered Biddy’s instinct to poop. He was probably just as dismayed as I was.

With the sheets in the laundry machine, Biddy is lying next to me on the desk right now (I literally just took the photo posted here). All is good, and I’m still glad I have cats, not kids, but I sure hope this doesn’t become a habit. One time is funny. Two times is just a lot of crap on my bed.

6 thoughts on “When Cats Fail You”

  1. Oh, my! I hate to laugh at this, but it’s hard not to– and I feel your pain about needing to do a last minute load of laundry after an unfortunate animal accident in the bed.

    Lately, the kittens have really started to enjoy the same game, only they seem to think that my feet under the blankets are something to be attacked, so most mornings I wake up with them pouncing on me. Also, I think I’ve found the solution to Walter’s claws being dangerous– the “soft paws,” which cover the sharp claw with a soft plastic cap. I put a set on both Gwen and Hodor this morning, and so far they are reacting well to them… and I have the added benefit of no longer needing to worry about accidental scratches from them.

    • Interesting! I’ve thought about getting those soft paws. You’ll have to tell me how they work out over the course of the next few weeks.

      • I’ll keep you updated, but so far so good. Right after they went on, both kittens spent a fair amount of time trying to lick the caps off, but I think after a while they gave up. My only regret is buying the clear ones and not a fun color, but maybe next time. Whenever you get a chance to see the kittens again, you’ll have to let me know how ridiculous they look with the soft paws.

        If you go that route with Walter I’d be happy to help you put them on him, but I’ll leave the claw trimming up to you (or maybe take him to a pro). 🙂

  2. That, is, so, funny. I saw where it was heading as soon as you kept on mentioning the digging. Makes me want to share one of my cat stories. Nothing this epic though, let’s see… Okay, got one.

    I taught English for two years in Laos, and we weren’t allowed to have pets, but I missed my cat’s from home. So, when the stray who lived at the church had kittens (stray cats are often brought to temples and churches in Laos) I chased the dirty things to pet and play with them.

    A little later, an elder brought me a present in a paper bag. I wasn’t home, so my room mate through it on the kitchen table. A little later, I came in, looked in the bag- and a cute little black and white ball of fur looked up at me. The poor guy was barely weaned.

    I kept the kitten, (elder loop-hole), and had to buy all the needed cat supplies. I bought soaked the kitten food in water, and left the food out on my bed, where the kitten could curl up and get used to my sent.

    I forgot about the fire ants. They are tiny, but they burn. That night, I exhausted, I picked up the kitten, snuggled him, and lay down on my bed, only to have my back light on fire. The ants had climbed up the bed, and had made a line across the mattress, tangling themselves between my sheets and blanket and pillow case.

    Needless to say, I yelped, stripped my bed of its clothing, dumped it in the washer, and took a shower to wash all the ants off. That night, I snuggled with the kitten and fell asleep on the bare mattress.

    So– not quite a cat story, but it does have a cat and a mattress, so it was the closest one I could find, lol.


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