Coffee House Cats.

I've had 2 for the last 13 years or so.
They're tough buggers and can usually sort themselves out.  I do love watching the way they navigate my world.

We have 10 of them, ranging from 1 to 18 years. Most of them are fairly quiet, but we've had plastic bag-realted incidents quite regularly.
 
Marshall, our two year old male is constantly looking for trouble with the other cats but nothing very serious. He's just a bit more high strung.
 
We also have a dog, a mix of a pit bull and a dachshund - which can make things a bit more chaotic. But I can"t imagine my life who them - there's never a dull moment.

Rain
We have 10 of them, ranging from 1 to 18 years. Most of them are fairly quiet, but we've had plastic bag-realted incidents quite regularly.
 
Marshall, our two year old male is constantly looking for trouble with the other cats but nothing very serious. He's just a bit more high strung.
 
We also have a dog, a mix of a pit bull and a dachshund - which can make things a bit more chaotic. But I can"t imagine my life who them - there's never a dull moment.

 Ha! I was waiting for Rain to respond, I was wondering how many you had now.  

 
We adopted these two, about 6 months ago, shortly after our Golden Retriever passed on.  The neighbors had picked them up as strays and they were about a year old.  After they had them for a year...and having 4 other cats...they decided that 6 were too many.  They asked us if we would be interested in taking them.
 
During their time with the neighbors, they would visit our house about half the time any way.  We used to open the front door and two cats would shoot into the house, past the then living Golden, straight to the kitchen and sit down.  We had gotten to know them pretty well.  My wife was not a cat person, though I had grown up with cats.  She has really come around on them and loves them to death now.  Here they are at a recent Vet visit.  
 
The Black guy is Theodore.  White one is Bleu.  It's Theodore's turn for his shot and he's not particularly excited.  
 
They are currently learning to deal with a new Golden Retriever puppy.  Doing pretty well with it, actually.  
 

 

I work with animals, mainly dogs and cats, and I have to say I'm more afraid of cats than I am of dogs (even though I love 'em). Cats have a Jekyll and Hyde personality and the smallest of things can touch them off like a stick of dynamite. One minute: sweetness & hearts & flowers. The next minute: thunder & lightning & fireballs. 
 
There's a cat that I take care of quite frequently called Sweden. He's a rescue off the street and lives with a cat called Bella. Sweden is all over me when I come in - rubbing himself around my leg, purring like crazy and then wanting 10 minute belly rubs after he's eaten. But inevitably, the "switch" will flip. Usually the trigger is when I'm scooping out the litter tray in the back room, or when Bella (who's the clumsiest cat I've ever met) lands awkwardly from a height when she's playing. All of a sudden his ears go back, he gets this look in his eye and he just starts walking towards you like he's stalking prey. That's my cue to get the hell out of the apartment because otherwise he will literally tear my legs to shreds. One time he went for me as I was scooping the litter and I had to back into the bathroom and shut the door on his slashing claws. He sat outside the bathroom door and did that low kitty moan constantly for about 20 minutes. I was trapped. Every time I opened the door even slightly, the claws would come through and he'd go into a full scale war cry. I had no phone on me, no way of getting out. Eventually I had to be a bit nasty and push him away with a broom (which I was afraid to do because it might make him go outright thermonuclear). 
 
One time he chased me out of the front door and I was carrying a bag of trash. I had to close the door so quickly to escape his claws that I inadvertently closed the door on the trash. The next few seconds were characterized by an explosion of ripping, tearing and howling, and what I ended up with was basically the top of the trash bag with nothing else in it. I had that little mess to clear up on the next visit. 
 
I managed to capture his death stare one time when he "escorted" me out of the apartment. This cat seriously gives me the chills. But before the switch flips, he is such a cutie pie. 
 

My favorite is when they're just sitting there looking completely docile and then all of a sudden they jerk their heads up and look all wide eyed at the ceiling or the wall, yet there is nothing there. That used to freak me out back in my young stoner days. I'd be convinced they were seeing something otherworldly that I couldn't see.

sharke
I work with animals, mainly dogs and cats, and I have to say I'm more afraid of cats than I am of dogs (even though I love 'em). Cats have a Jekyll and Hyde personality and the smallest of things can touch them off like a stick of dynamite. One minute: sweetness & hearts & flowers. The next minute: thunder & lightning & fireballs. 
 
There's a cat that I take care of quite frequently called Sweden. He's a rescue off the street and lives with a cat called Bella. Sweden is all over me when I come in - rubbing himself around my leg, purring like crazy and then wanting 10 minute belly rubs after he's eaten. But inevitably, the "switch" will flip. Usually the trigger is when I'm scooping out the litter tray in the back room, or when Bella (who's the clumsiest cat I've ever met) lands awkwardly from a height when she's playing. All of a sudden his ears go back, he gets this look in his eye and he just starts walking towards you like he's stalking prey. That's my cue to get the hell out of the apartment because otherwise he will literally tear my legs to shreds. One time he went for me as I was scooping the litter and I had to back into the bathroom and shut the door on his slashing claws. He sat outside the bathroom door and did that low kitty moan constantly for about 20 minutes. I was trapped. Every time I opened the door even slightly, the claws would come through and he'd go into a full scale war cry. I had no phone on me, no way of getting out. Eventually I had to be a bit nasty and push him away with a broom (which I was afraid to do because it might make him go outright thermonuclear). 
 
One time he chased me out of the front door and I was carrying a bag of trash. I had to close the door so quickly to escape his claws that I inadvertently closed the door on the trash. The next few seconds were characterized by an explosion of ripping, tearing and howling, and what I ended up with was basically the top of the trash bag with nothing else in it. I had that little mess to clear up on the next visit. 
 
I managed to capture his death stare one time when he "escorted" me out of the apartment. This cat seriously gives me the chills. But before the switch flips, he is such a cutie pie. 
 

The things we do for bucks.

Luckily, neither of mine are psycho.  Ones part dog, it seems.   

Beepster
I'm a crazy cat lady trapped in the mind of a stinky street punk trapped in the body of an 80yo woman.
 
Full circle?
 
But alas I am just barely able to take care of myself so as much as I would like to have a couple of the little fur goblins dancing around for my amusement that wouldn't be very responsible.
 
Ah, cats. Snotty, arrogant little jerks. Love 'em.

Eh?

Beepster

eph221
Eh?

That's racist against Canadians.
 
Please try to be more sensitive in the future.

That's 'cause da Beepster's on...
 

 

sharke
My favorite is when they're just sitting there looking completely docile and then all of a sudden they jerk their heads up and look all wide eyed at the ceiling or the wall, yet there is nothing there. That used to freak me out back in my young stoner days. I'd be convinced they were seeing something otherworldly that I couldn't see.

Dogs protect us from what we CAN see, and cats protect us from what we CAN'T see.

I think it's more likely that cats are acutely aware of the other little critters that are living behind the walls and ceilings in your house.

Glyn Barnes

jamesg1213
 
. He only has 3 legs
 

Manx cat?

 
 
Don't know how Sid lost his leg, they didn't seem to know. He's the 2nd  'tripod' we've had, our late Siamese 'Tik Tak' lost one of her front legs after falling out of a tree and some subsequent botched surgery.
 

As I recall Tik Tak didn't need much recuperation..we brought her back from the vets, she staggered out of the box, took a look at her missing leg, then looked at me, yelled blue murder and took a big swipe at me with the other front leg!
 
She was a brutal cat, but I do miss her.