Cats

musesfool, you'll want to skip this post, as it's about cats. *G*

My parents went to the beach for a couple of days, so my sister and I are stopping by to check on the cats while they're gone. I have to admit, I generally love cats (with the exception of Molly, a.k.a. Satan, who is my aunt's cat - Molly hates anyone and everyone and will randomly jump up and bite you). I had cats for years. Sweetie Pie was my sweet tabby that I had for 9 years and loved like crazy. (And I did not name Sweetie, so no making fun of me.) Of course Sweetie was also royally bent. She had a traumatic first two years of life, living with Horrible Hannah, and so when we got her she was a nervous wreck that had more scabs than actual fur. But that was my Sweetie.

Well, once I moved to an apartment that would allow it, I got a dog. I didn't want to deal with the litter box issue in a confined space. It's one thing when you have a basement. Much easier to deal with. An apartment? No, I'd go for the dog. Besides my parents have cats, so there would be my cat fix.

My parents' cats are...unique. They are *not* cuddly cats. Miss Priss (aka Mom), Miss Hiss and Rascal are all related, with Miss Priss being their mother. As we are a weird bunch, that means Miss Priss is my sister and Hiss and Rascal are my siblings. Freaky family folks. I have a freaky family.

Well, these cats are *Cats*, in that they have trained their owners to be exactly what they want them to be. This means they get fed at 6:00. And that means putting half of a little tin of food in the bowl, setting it down for Hiss and Rascal, and once they're done, putting the rest in the bowl for Priss, locking her in the cat room (or more precisely, locking Rascal out), wait for her to scratch on the door, let her out and let Rascal in. And anything left over after that goes to Hiss.

And that's just *feeding* the dang things.

If you're snacking, one of them will be in your face, looking to see if it's good food, even though they don't particularly care for people food. Hiss, who tops the scales at 16 pounds and is huge, doesn't eat people food at all, and eats the least of the canned cat food. Rascal, who is as long as Hiss, but very lean, loves any kind of nut. He prefers cashews though. Hiss likes to look interested in people food, but really it's because no one is allowed to do anything without her approval first.

Well, I just found out that Priss does in fact like some people food.

She loves Wendy's french fries. The crunchy bits that always make it to the bottom of the container. She actually rolled over and let me rub her belly in exchange for a fry. Normally, if you touch her belly? You come back with a bloody stub. Not this time. She only mildly swatted at me.

Cats are freaky folks. My dog? Eats when he's hungry, doesn't when he's not. That's why he's still 35 pounds, the same as when I brought him home 3 years ago.