Cats Talking to Humans Compilation
Every conversation with roommate ever (we have meow wars).
Every conversation with roommate ever (we have meow wars).
I’m cuddling with Andrew.
Suddenly, a wild cat (lovingly dubbed our poor retarded son) appears.
He makes his way around the perimeter of the bed, then investigates between the wall and the head of the bed. He reaches the end.
He then tries to turn around by tucking his head under his body, which has the end result of his back legs and butt abruptly being up in the air.
He bicycles his legs around for a moment, before uprighting himself. All Andrew hears is the scrabbling around, I’m snarfing too hard for the next few moments to describe what just happened.
I love how the cat flails after the laser pointer, his front end going one way and his back end seeming to go another, this lopsided loping from hither to yon.
Watch the emotions on his face as he experiences the haircut. He’s being made presentable which explains some of it, but it’s probably also the first kind touch by another human being he’s experienced in a while.
(Source)
Later: His life is still a bit rocky, but it’s still a neat sentiment.
Me: “I’m up; you have the bed.”
Andrew: *one foot edges out from the covers to my side, grunting contentedly that he gets to sprawl*
Me: *snickers*
I couldn’t figure out where the cat had gone to. And then I saw the blanket moving. Ah, he’s underneath again.
I set my empty coffee cup dismissively on the bed, intending to pick it up later. The cat has since rolled over, enveloping it possessively in his paws, curling around it with his stomach. “Precccciiiouuuussssss,” he seems to be saying.
Things I never thought I’d have to say to my roommate #10:
“Please stop lubing up the floors.”
The cat was pawing at the sleeping bag on the bed. He waited for me to smooth it out and then make a cave-like hollow in it. He then disappeared and is now rooting around in it, getting ready for a nap surrounded in warm.