My cat thinks I'm a dunce - a Caturday story

My cat thinks I'm a dunce - a Caturday story

This. This mouse is the only toy he will play with by himself. No other type of mice will work except this one. With the fuzzy body and the leathery tail, I frequently scour Petco for this particular kind of mouse. And this mouse is the star of this Caturday story.

My cat, Joseph (Joe), thinks I’m a dunce. It took me a couple of days to figure out what he was trying to tell me, and all the while I thought he was just being really annoying.

Mra mah mmmumble muh muh mooom mrow m-owww moooooom

Yeah. Seriously, I swear he knows how to say ‘Mom’ with an excellent two-year-old’s accent.

Moooooooom. Mooooooooom. Mroowwwwww. Mooooooom.

Joe! Jo-jo….what do you need?

Mah mah m-m-mra mrow

You have dry food. You have wet food. You have water. You’re fine.

Mrow? Mooooooom. Mooom. Mrowwwww.

And on it went while I worked on some Very Important Stuff online, like checking Facebook for the 10th time today or writing a blog post, or reading Cracked or Fark. He would also follow me into the kitchen and continue meowing.

Finally, one day while I was getting a snack, I noticed that he was enunciating his meows very carefully. Joe! Do you need something?

Mra mra mah roo ma ma ma mroww mra. He looked at me expectantly. I can see his little kitty gears churning. Finally! She’s figuring it out!

joe mouse story

You’re trying to tell me something. What do you need, Joe?

He tried again, meowing while pacing the kitchen. First he stood on his rear legs, leaning up onto the cabinet on the right, reaching for something up there. Then he paced over to the fridge, and rubbed his head against it.

I already gave him dry food, so he must not be wanting the cup, I thought. Oh. Ruler!

He wants the ruler! And the only reason he loves the ruler is because I use it to fish his toy mice out from under the fridge. I got on my hands and knees and started fishing out his mice as best as I could while he was rubbing his head against my face gratefully.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven mice were hiding under the fridge, just out of his reach. Joe was SO excited. You’d think he was a dog from the way he was dancing around, his tail wagging, just eagerly waiting for his toy. I threw all the mice into the living room so he couldn’t just immediately flick them back under the fridge, and he bounded after them, picked one, and started tossing it around.

Duhhh. I’m a dunce. At least Joe loves me anyway.

P.S. Happy Caturday!


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  • Brava, madame. Dead on!

  • Dude. The pictures are the best. MORE! MORE!

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