The Strange Habits of Cat Owners
I’ve been a cat owner since my tenth birthday, when my mother gave me a scraggly black kitten named Pippins that she had rescued from animal control.
Thirty-six years later, I have a cabin full of cats. They shape my daily habits with their presence. I’ve been doing most of these habits for so many years that if I suddenly found myself living in some bleak, cat-less hell, I would probably continue to do them.
Opening and Closing Doors
Only one of my cats is allowed to go outside (and he’s currently being transitioned to indoor-only). However, two of the others are very interested in what’s on the other side of the front door. Sweet Zombie has bolted out a couple of times. Scooter likes to hover around the door when I’m going out or coming in. In order to get in and out without cats escaping, I have to go through the door carefully. I open it just wide enough for a foot to fit out, followed by my leg, then I gradually open it enough to squeeze my body through, blocking the way out for the cats as I exit. It’s like a dance, but not ballet. More like the dance done by the comic relief character.
There is no leaving my house gracefully.
Coming back in requires me to open the door just a crack to make sure there’s not a cat right there, ready to bolt. If my hands are full, whatever I’m holding goes in first as a sort of cat-bulldozer. That means, if I’m carrying in groceries, I open the door, then push cats away with the grocery bags. Only then do I squeeze myself through the door in a reverse of the comic-relief-dance I did to get outside in the first place.
The other door I have to worry about is the bathroom door. Both Winnie and Scooter like to perch themselves on top of it, which means I need to look up and make sure they aren’t sitting on it before I close it.
Doing Laundry
I don’t turn on the dryer without double-checking that there’s no cat in there. This is true even if I haven’t once turned my back while loading the dryer. If I hear a mysterious thumping sound coming from inside the dryer, I open it and check to make sure it isn’t a cat taking a tumble.
I know two people who lost cats by not checking the dryer.
My cats are obsessed with laundry, both clean and dirty. The clothes hamper is a favorite spot to sleep. When I change clothes, if a cat is nearby (and one usually is), I throw my dirty clothes on the floor for the cat to lie on for a bit. Fat Zombie is especially fond of lying on my clothes.
Yesterday, as I was putting clean clothes away, Scooter planted himself on a clean sweater and refused to move. I just worked around him until he got bored and left to go attack one of the other cats.
I don’t own a laundry basket. Clean clothes go straight from the dryer to the closet. If I were to put them in a basket, I would simply be turning them into a cat bed.
The keyboard and mouse
When I’m not at my computer, I keep the keyboard turned off and tucked away. At night, the mouse goes in a drawer. If the mouse is sitting on my desk, some cat will invariably wait until I am sound asleep and then jump on it, waking the computer, whose light, like the face of God, will shine upon me.
If I’m at my desk working and need a refill of coffee, I turn off the keyboard and tuck it away before I get up. Otherwise, someone will add to my document while I’m gone. Or worse — delete part of it.
I also keep a sweater or blanket on the back of my computer chair to protect it from cat claws. I don’t know what I was thinking when I bought a leather chair. That one’s on me.
In the Kitchen
I clean the cutting board before I use it — every single time. As much as I love my cats’ little feet, I know where those feet have been. And they love to walk across the kitchen counters.
Sweet Zombie and the Muffin Man love to watch me cook. The Muffin Man is more polite about it. He’ll sit out of the way and just watch. Sweet Zombie, on the other hand, tries to steal food. I have to keep removing him from the counter. If you were to listen to the sounds coming from my kitchen, they would sound like this: chop chop chop, “Get down!” chop chop chop, “Sweet Zombie! You little turd!” chop chop chop, “I said, ‘Get down!’”
Obviously, I don’t walk away while food is on the stove.
Eating is a challenge. I have more defensive moves than a professional basketball player. Every now and then, Sweet Zombie gets past the defense and puts his paw on my plate.
I don’t know if the Muffin Man remembers that the stove is hot and will burn a paw, but he did learn that lesson once upon a time. The others have no idea. After the meal is finished and leftovers put away, I return the now-empty pan to the burner I used to cook the food. This is just to cover it until it cools all the way — I don’t want my cats to burn their little paws.
Sleeping
Before I crawl in bed, I brush the stray cat litter off of my sheet.
Normally, the Muffin Man is already in bed when I get there. That means, I have to work my way under the covers without disturbing him. If I didn’t have a twenty-pound weighted blanket, this would probably be easier to accomplish. I slide my legs in carefully, moving around the cat.
When it’s time to roll over, I do so slowly and apologetically. By then, Sweet Zombie is beside me and Winnie is somewhere at my feet. My goal is not to jostle or kick anyone. I’ve gotten pretty skilled at it.
Sweet Zombie used to claim my pillow every now and then. I would then use the other pillow — the inferior pillow. Fortunately, he has decided that under-the-blanket is preferable to on-the-pillow. I assume this will change when the weather gets warmer.
Conclusion
As ubiquitous as the cats are in my life, I’m sure I have other habits that I’ve adopted to keep them safe and happy, habits I’m not even aware of. What about you? How have your cats shaped your daily routine? What strange things do you do that a person living a soul-less, cat-less life wouldn’t understand?
