Outrageous ways your cats demand to be spoiled

[OTheHugeManatee]

Our cats are outrageously spoiled. Here are some ways:

Girlcat has her own special ramekin of (filtered) water on DH's bedside table, and demands that the sitting room curtains be drawn for her every morning so she can watch the garden in comfort from her personal piano stool with a sheepskin on it. She also waits by the fridge at lunchtime every day until you give her a slice of the processed chicken we buy specially for her (it goes on the shopping list as 'Cat chicken'). She's even trained our cleaner to give her lunch like this when we're not around

Boy cat demands to be accompanied on a patrol of the garden at 9.15pm every night. If you don't patrol for long enough he will follow you round the house scratching at the carpet and miaowing piteously until you go back out and finish the patrol.

I can think of many more but please tell me the outrageous ways your cats expect to be ministered to so I don't feel quite so much like a butler

MCat likes to eat on the kitchen work top. He sits there sadly looking up at his food going "MRrroOOoowW" until I pick him up and place him next to his bowl. This is a fit, muscular cat that can jump onto an 8 foot wall.

Very tame compared to the pretending to eat mice though

Oh, and we don't have grass in our garden. So we pick him a nice bunch to munch from the church yard across the road.

He takes over my side of the bed, until I'm perched on the end. I feel too bad or too scared to claim it back

So what you're all saying is that I'm actually normal and my cat isn't spoiled in any way at all.

Fabby.

I'm loving these stories though.

We leave the conservatory open whenwe go to work... thereby giving any passing thief access to our expensive computer ..just incase it rains!

We buy bags of cooked chicken every week... just for the Portia. Ditto tuna (John West not value!) She is 15 and has older cat rights... cat food? Pah!

There is 'Ophie's throw' blanket..expensive and now for her sole padding use.

I have on several occasions, brushed my teeth squatting in the bath tub because Obie is asleep in the sink...

And yes I also pretended to eat the mouse that Obie proudly brought me on Monday!!!!!!

I could go on

When my last cat was nearing the end of her life my mum would buy her food from the deli and fish counters in Waitrose. All the staff there knew her, and who she was buying food for, and would often give my mum freebies for her.

I'm not quite sure how it happened but I appear to have got into a routine where I have to tilt a water glass so my kitten can drink out of it when we go up to bed. He takes a very considered, lengthy drink, has a little pause and then goes back for another massive drink. He takes so bloody long my hand hurts, it's like he does it on purpose!

He won't drink out of his beautiful ceramic personalised water bowl. Obvs.

This thread is making me feel better anyway!

until very recently we made guests sleep in the lounge instead of the study/cat's bedroom. It was only recently we decided to move her litter tray to the downstairs loo so that there is the possibility of guests sleeping in the bedroom, but its still otherwise 'the cat's bedroom'.

I carry the cat upstairs to bed every night. And occasionally outside so she can have a look around without getting her paws cold or wet.

I'm feeling so much better about losing two nice deep casserole dishes to my cats. Dcat2 used to belong to a friend of mine. When I took her in (the cat, not my friend), I noticed that she wasn't drinking a great deal from the normal (cat sized) bowl. I checked in with her old owner who said she'd prefer a mahoosive bowl. So a mahoosive casserole dish she got. Dcat1 took one look at this, and decided the big mug of water she was perfectly fine with drinking from before simply wasn't big enough any more. So she now drinks out of a bloody slow cooker dish.
Dcat2 also has a penchant for only the most expensive finest litter - apparently that came from a cattery she stayed at yonks ago - we pander to this, despite the litter getting ground into our carpet at every available opportunity.
I have managed to decode Dcat1's vocabulary - which is a good thing, because she's becoming more vocal by the second - she's elderly and losing her marbles. I learned "who the fuck are you?" this morning - she took ages to realise that the human she was yelling for was in the room, and was actually me, poor thing.
My colleagues think I've got secret children, the amount of times I've come into work bloody knackered because Dcat1 has been all over the shop at night - poor old girl just can't see, hear or smell us only a few inches from her these days, and sounds sooo heartbroken that she's on her own, when in reality, it's only been 10 minutes since she last had a cuddle, even if it is 4 in the morning.