to puke on the driveway?

[iamdivergent]

So I go home last night, and she has bought the wrong food. I let her know specifically which kind to get me but she did not listen. (how can she not interpret me eating little yummy morsels perfectly spaced out - rather than wolfing it down at once to get it'd over with!)

so WIBU to puke it up on the driveway? she was not happen when she went to the car this morning I watched her from the window and meowed

YWNBU, these servants just don't get it do they.

No! they don't. She also moves me from the warm children's clothes that she has stacked on the bed when it's my most favourite place in the world. I love to bite at my nails there and roll around on them too

To really get the message home you need to add a couple of partially dismembered baby rats and about a quarter of a pigeon.

xx AlpacaCat

YANBU - mine has just purchased a new sofa - she will NOT let me claw it the unreasonable hag ...I have taken to leaving mouse heads and guts on the patio - that'll teach her

You know the only reason we put up with them is that they've got opposable thumbs and thus can open fridge doors and use can openers? They're otherwise completely useless frankly!

AlpacaCat I don't do catching things. I leave that to the small cat. She brings me gifts. I could probably bribe her with a licking wash but she's so fickle

I'm a small cat, it means I can creep up on the pigeons and get down the gap behind the shed where the baby rats hang out.

I'd get very pissed off if a big bastard cat insisted on swapping MY lovely bits of carrion for a licking wash. Hah! I can wash my own bits thank you very much.

(and has anyone else realised how comfortable the top of the big black humming box is for doing this job? Nice and warm! There's this lovely sort of tray to catch the loose hairs in, with lots of nobbly pushy in out things, they've got letters and numbers written on them. The servant gets really grumpy about cleaning it, but it's her own fault for leaving it right by the nice warm box.)

YABU. Any self respecting cat would puke in the house, preferable somewhere where it will get stepped in in bare feat. You must do better to become a self respecting feline.

hangs head on shame - I will try better

i dug my claws into my servant today because dared to put a flea collar on me! I've worn one all my life and being jet black its the only thing that shows up in the dark but today I decided no more

Do what I did this morning and piss in the peg basket!

Why has my servant started to pick me up and look at my bum whenever I have visited the litter tray?

It is undignified and unnecessary as there is nothing to see. If a bean of poo is stubbornly clinging, I always remove it by scraping my bum on the carpet.

Yes limited that is what I like to do

You've a lot to learn, every experienced cat knows not to waste their puke on the driveway. The very best place is on the bed in the middle of the night. Alas I am in cat heaven now but used to enjoy watching my human slave screaming as she leaped out of bed having to remake it with clean bedding. It's particularly effective if you've demanded and eaten prawns earlier - the smell lingers

amazing!

Shitting in the open, empty suitcase just before she packs, always used to work for me. Just to let her know, I wasn't happy about her going on holiday and leaving me behind again!

The hairball induced prolonged puke-hack-hack-puke-move away and start again while leaving a trail of spit around the room is most effective when your owner slave wanders down barefoot for an early morning cuppa and doesn't put the light on.

Who would have thought that a human could make that noise?

No, no, no, fellow-felines. The place to puke is on top of the shutters on the window where I like to sit. It means the puke all goes cascading downwards and my place remains clean and sick-free. The servants moan a bit about cleaning it off all the little slats but I tell them not to make their problem my problem.

I'm sure the doorstep would be an improvement on the driveway for maximum effect - they step outside straight into it before they've realised and then it's all over their shoes!

You felines are goooooood

I was surprised at how good the slave was at repairing smoked salmon canapés. I don't think her guests noticed the nibbled bits at all.

When I was alive I'd sit on the kitchen windowsill in the morning and press my nose against the glass. Naturally, I'd shuffle up as the sun moved round, thus leaving a line of dried snot approximately 10 inches from the bottom, the whole length of the window.

In the afternoon I'd repeat the process at the window in the front living room.

I believe humans are impressed by similar methods of measurement using the body when used by their primitive ancestors - putting up stones in Wiltshire or Egypt - where at least they had the sense to worship us as gods.

But my servant used to grumble about this engineering miracle while scrubbing with the Windolene.

When I went away for good she left my snot lines for ages in tribute.

She has another of my kind. When alive, I'd have driven him from the house and then sulked until she grovelled.

But he keeps her company so I don't mind him. He is currently walking on her keyboard to remind her to get off Mumsnet and pay him homage. Good lad.

I think the best way to teach your human a lesson is to wait until they are dead asleep, vomit up a really good meal of food and hair, deposit in bedroom doorway, wait for her to get up to wee in middle of night..

The surprised shriek, the unladylike cursing proves she understands her mistake..repeat as necessary.

Dead cat here again.

What my human failed to understand is that the point of the hunt isn't the killing. Any thug can do that in an instant but it's the brutal dance between captor and captive, culminating in the chilling beauty of death that is the thing.

Therefore I'd take care not to harm my prey to keep them as lively as possible so that the contest was evenly matched. Ish.

I'd carry them in my jaws as lovingly as my own mother carried me as a baby and release them in her bedroom from where there was no escape so we could enjoy the subtle interplay between the hunter and hunted. Sometimes it went on for hours. I would always honour their spirit and her generosity in supplying the venue by leaving them on her pillow.

She didn't get it and would intercept me at the back door, grasp me roughly by the scruff of the neck and make me drop my sacrifice into her hand. Most times she would release them into the garden where their feeble little hearts probably gave out in shock. But there was a satisfying moment when one bird broke free indoors and flew into window thinking it was freedom and broke its neck. Doltish creature. Her too. She wept.

I once tried to explain with a macabrely poetic gesture. I left a severed blackbird's head, beak open in song forever silenced, where she could tread on it in bare feet. She didn't get it.

There is only so much you can do with them.

So much helpful information here, thank you. This morning I left a pile of vomit by the washing machine for my servant. She got in far too late last night and was behaving in a giddy way so was all sad and pasty looking this morning. My little gift to her made her feel quite unwell but she'll learn...

I can also recommend yowling for food and then walking off when the servant feeds you the expensive food. And not drinking the nasty fresh water she puts down but the milk from her cereal bowl which she leaves by the sink.

She is a fool. Ha ha.