Victor Schukov

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What does my cat want?

I’ll be honest with you. I am not a cat whisperer. Although I have a fondness for our wacky feline named Kenobi, I am at a loss most of the time as to what she wants when she meows. In particular, she has taken to spending a lot of her leisure time (Isn’t ALL cat time leisure?) lying in my bathroom sink. 

And trying to read the expression on her face is no less confusing. When I ask her why she is taking up the porcelain, she just stares at me like either I am stupid or she doesn’t know either. I have several theories but nothing that I can substantiate:

1. She is telling me that it’s been too long since her last bath: In fact, I have never bathed her. My rudimentary understanding is that cats dry clean themselves and abhor being rinsed like freshly purchased fruits and vegetables. Furthermore, I am loathe to turn the faucet on while she is in there lest she be traumatized and never speak to me henceforth. (Again, not that I understand her to begin with.)

2. She thinks she is a chicken: Her positioning and posture certainly suggests that she is nesting, perhaps anticipating the laying of an egg. That, I suppose, suggests that my cat has lost her mind, in which case the laying of an egg is the very least of her problems. If she does end up laying an egg, my only hope that it is not so small as to plug up the drain.

3. She thinks that the hole to her left is a mouse hole: In this case, she may be waiting with biblical patience for a snatch-size rodent to emerge. This implies that she is calculating because she has plugged the hole below her and the hole to her side is the only escape route for the mouse. My only concern is that she may become too obsessive and refuse to come out and eat. In that case, I will be forced to leave her food bowl on the sink. (Her litter box is another matter that I will deal with when it gets that far.)

4. She craves the cooling effect of the sink: Anyone who has reposed naked in an empty bathtub will tell you that there is a kind of exhilaration brought on by the cold surface contact. I, of course, do not (necessarily) speak from experience but I surmise that there are those neo-individualists who dare to do that which the majority does not have the stuff to do. Who am I to judge an act of renaissance?

At this point, I can go on and on (as most of my confreres will attest) with frail attempts at trying to explain Kenobi’s bizarre entrenchment, but I leave it up to you to endlessly theorize. If all else fails, I will have to turn the water on and deal with the animal rights people. Meow.

 

7 comments

  1. Maybe the cozy size contributes to affection for the sink, does Kenobi have access to a basket about the same dimensions as the sink?

    What a beautiful face!

  2. By Girlwithdog

    I have to agree with HockeyMom. She probably just finds the tight fit comforting. Either way, thank you for the post! As a former cat owner who currently has a dog and guinea pigs, I spend most of my life wondering, “What the heck are they thinking???” And quite honestly, I am almost possitive that they are looking at us thinking exactly the same thing! One word of advice though, I wouldn’t attempt turning on the faucet. She does after all, know where you sleep and will find you!

  3. Dear HockeyMom,

    Every cushion in our home is her cozy basket ! Since kittyhood, she has loved to lie inside a paper grocery bag no matter where in the house.

    Best regards.

  4. By Elsie Treize

    Your cat’s name is Kenobi, as in “Obiwan Kenobi, you’re the only one who can save me now?” I have reached out in the force, and discovered that your option #4 is correct. She likes the cooling effect. She wants you to change her name to Princess Leia!

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