Because it was Thanksgiving, I spent a couple days at my parents’ house. This is always a blessing because my mom’s cats are bigger dicks than my own and provide me with filler content.
Take this picture for example.
That’s my mom’s cat Peanut. Peanut is Browning’s daughter and basically the biggest dick of a cat I’ve ever met. If you upset her, she’ll shit in the bathtub to inconvenience you. True story.
Peanut couldn’t stand that there were cat toys in that bag. More specifically she couldn’t stand that said cat toys were not for her.
Obviously the next logical step in this scenario is to get stuck in the bag to somehow sabotage the toys for the intended cats.
The next logical step is to walk off, owning the fact that you’re stuck in a bag and it was exactly what you meant to do.
[Disclaimer: No animals were hurt. Peanut is alive and well and probably shitting in a bathtub right now.]
I know what you’re thinking. “Cat circus? That’s not even a real thing.” Well, you skeptic, it most certainly is a real thing and this blog serves as proof.
Suzanne came to Austin (so, now you know where I live…please don’t stalk me) Friday night. As fate would have it, there was also a cat circus in town the same night. So, duh we had to get tickets to that.
Naturally, we couldn’t show up to this thing sober because neither of us really knew what the hell to expect out of this. And, because it was on the east side of Austin, we weren’t sure if we’d die or not, and no one wants to die sober.
We walked into the little theatre and were immediately warned to close the door because there was a loose cat running around somewhere. We both got really excited at this point and wanted to find the loose cat. Editor’s note: there was no loose cat, so that was some bullshit.
We finally found seats (all six performances were sold out…I’ve truly missed my calling) and waited for the show to begin. The ring master came out, and was dressed like a character from Josie and the Pussycats–I’m talking cat ears and crushed velvet from head to toe. It was purrfect.
She has about 12 different cats kenneled that she pulls out at different times throughout the show, depending on what trick she’s trying to get them to perform–there were a couple hoop jumping cats, a skateboard cat, tight rope walking cat, shopping cart pushing cat, instrument playing cats, tight rope walking cat. I say ‘trying to perform’ because cats are dicks (celebrity performer cats included), and a good 80% of the time she let each cat out of its kennel to perform, it just walked out and stretched and sat down, and begged for its treat like it had done something spectacular.
That’s a cat riding a skateboard.
This was the star of the show–a bitchy cat named Tuna. Prior to the show ending, we were warned not to touch Tuna because Tuna is a huge dick who hates humans and doesn’t like being petted and doesn’t enjoy other signs of affection either. So, naturally I tried to touch Tuna (because I WANT TO HUG ALL THE CATS but I can’t) and honestly, I’ve never been more scared for my life. That cat is 100% evil.
Here we are with the star of the show. Suzanne is terrified. And this was before I tried to pet her, so I still thought I stood a chance and could make her love me. I was let down approximately 45 seconds after this photo.
The best part of the entire show actually had nothing to do with cats. A guy in the audience attempted to start a slow clap and it went a little something like this…
A few months ago I decided to join the local humane society’s foster program. If you’re not familiar with what it means to be an animal shelter foster parent, basically you take on pets that are too young or sick to be adopted and you take care of them until they are either rehabilitated or old enough to find a permanent home. So I figured I love animals, I’d like to help out the shelter but don’t have time to volunteer, and I have the perfect space to house animals and keep them separate from my own cats (a sunroom at the back of my house).
Besides all that, I figured kittens would be easy. I know how to care for cats, I thought….why would caring for kittens be much more difficult than making sure my own cats didn’t die? In fact, I reasoned it had to be easier than caring for my own cats, since like humans cats become more evil with age. In my head, I knew it would be perfect…. imagined long Saturday afternoons filled with purrs and sweet little cat babies lounging in the sun and looking very silly whilst chasing ribbons and sunbeams.
I am a stupid, stupid woman.
The first batch of foster kittens were three siblings, and to be honest they weren’t that bad. They did cute things like this:
oh my precious
And this:
there are too many books on the kitty shelf! oh noes!
But they got bigger, and consequently went back to the shelter where they were all adopted and went on to forever homes where they will grow into cats that will someday terrorize their forever families. DAWWWW!
With the next round of fosters, I’ve discovered a rather disconcerting fact. The reason why kittens are so sweet and non-destructive comes from the simple fact that they are small and defenseless. As such, it’s necessary for them to befriend you so that they are afforded some sense of protection until they are older and larger and develop bigger claws and more hateful dispositions. Basically, kittens are just manipulative little bastards that use you to keep them alive and clean up after them, much like babies. With the second batch, I took on nine foster kittens and learned that with their powers combined…they no longer need to be my friend. Like an angry mob armed with endless mews and tiny claws, they’ve overtaken and destroyed everything in their path.
LET US OUT OR SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES OF DESTROYED BOOKS AND POOPS ON THE FLOOR
Since there are so many of them, they’ve become emboldened enough to undertake escape attempts. Like the velociraptors in “Jurassic Park”, they try to open the doors:
Clever girl.
You can’t walk past the sunroom door without being assailed by taunts and demands:
pssst. PSSSST. I pooped on the bookshelf.
If you are stupid enough to enter the room and attempt contact, you’ll likely find yourself in this situation after being climbed like fucking Mount Everest:
How can a cat be only 6 inches tall, yet somehow always have its ass right in your face??
They’ve shredded books. They’ve eaten photographs. They’ve thrown up in their own food bowls and sprayed diarrhea all over the floor right next to their box. Every attempt to enter the room is met with an attempt to escape, usually accomplished by three scaling your legs while the others flee and hide under beds and couches. But there is a silver lining, my friends….
These kittens are healthy and old enough for adoption and are going back to the humane society. After a long and arduous six weeks, it is time for them to find their forever homes, filled with new people that they can forever torture. After tomorrow, I am taking a break from fostering since I plan to be traveling for the holidays and besides that, holy shit I need a break. The nightmare will be over. I will get my sunroom back and it will just be me and my three…..fully grown…….much larger and able to do much more damage….pissed off from lack of attention….holding a grudge and anxiously awaiting the departure of the kittens before they exact their revenge….my own cats….
It’s been a pretty successful inaugural year here at CatsAreSuchDicks.com. You’ve, hopefully, gotten some good laughs. We’ve been able to vent about how utterly dickish our cats can be. It’s been a fun year.
So, to celebrate here’s a shitload of pictures of cats doing really dumb shit. Enjoy!
So, I’m going to start off this post by saying today is National Cat Day, and not one of you people have wished us a Happy National Cat Day today. Even though it’s probably not dedicated to cat owners, and created by a cat to celebrate cats’ and their existence on this planet. They’re dicks like that. Like, it’s different than the other 364 days in the year. Moving on now, just don’t forget our birthdays.
Cats are known to sit in precisely the places where they know they shouldn’t. Like, somehow squeezing their bodies behind your tchotchkes on your bookshelf so that when you grab them, they knock over everything.
Last week, I was packing for Los Angeles and got this weird feeling something was watching me.
Found it.
Then this happened, because it has to happen every time I try to leave. It’s like he’s staging his own little cat sit-in.
It’s his way of punishing me for leaving, as if to say, “Fine. You can go. But I’m just going to cover the inside of your suitcase with cat hair so you look like shit the entire time you are gone.”
By now (unless you’ve been living under a rock), you’ve probably heard about the latest Internet cat sensation that STILL isn’t our cats.
His name is freaking Tardar Sauce, and he’s known as the grumpiest cat, because, well… he looks like an asshole, ALL OF THE TIME. Like, physically, he can’t help it because he was made that way.
So, last week, I was bored and Browning was laying next to me and he looked bored as hell too, so I googled “cat games for computers.” I came across this “game” that looked like it was basically from the Netscape Navigator-era, like I could count pixels, but Browning seemed to be slightly impressed so I let it play.
He was interested.
Here he’s saying “ZOMG THIS IS THE BEST THING EVERRRRR.”
Then as soon as he realized I captured him looking impressed on camera, he promptly pulled Cat Card #1 and faked disinterest.
Walking on a one inch wide window ledge? Doesn’t even matter if they fall because they meant to do it. Eating fake flowers? They just love puking up plastic. Accidentally sitting their cat asses on your plugged-in flat iron? Hello, their hair was starting to crimp.
So, it’s no surprise that these two assholes pretended to be able to track and kill a fly all day long yesterday.
I became involved AFTER they put holes in my curtains and JUST before they tore the blinds off the damn wall.
Who knew you could capture so much stupid in one picture.
I stumbled upon this little gem of a headline. This story is particularly funny to me for three reasons (and the guy didn’t die, so everyone just relax):
This took place in Texas.
More specifically, this took place in Houston (of COURSE).
Investigators say the couple owns multiple cats, so they’re not exactly sure which cat is the instigator.
But apparently, when Audrey Deen Miller’s husband threatened to hurt the cat, she lost her shit and shot him in the stomach. To read the article written by a more-respectable journalist than myself, you can click here I guess.
More importantly, the cat wasn’t hurt. Most importantly, CATS ARE STILL DICKS. I’d just love to know what shenanigans this little asshole was up to before all hell broke loose.
Cats Are Such Dicks 