From the Blog

The Gift That Keeps On Giving

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Like many cat owners, we have a number of kitty toys strewn about the house. I imagine that like most cats, and also many children, there are “favorite” toys and there are “meh” toys. We leave the “meh” toys out for when he loses all his favorites under the various large pieces of furniture in the house. The cat doesn’t like the “meh” toys as much, but he will bat them around if he’s desperate or bored. They rarely get lost because he doesn’t play with them as much. The “meh” toys allow us to continue ignoring him, since we are able to say, “Look, you have plenty of toys.” Why does he need human interaction? Why, cat?

Occasionally, I fish out all the favorite toys from under the couch or under the kegrator. Yes, I said kegerator. I live in a sweet ass bachelor pad and I’m just hoping some hottie chicks will come over.

Once all the favorite toys have been liberated, it’s like christmas morning for the cat in our apartment. All the wadded up receipts, milk rings and fake mice come out to play for a few hours. We hear him skidding across the concrete floor, or bumping into tables and chairs, or thundering up and down the stairs if we throw something into the loft for him to chase. Until all the toys all end up under furniture again.

I think other cats must do this also. We know a toy, usually a small fake mouse, must really be his favorite if he fetches it. He will run off to find the toy, scoop it up in his mouth, and quickly bring it back to us. He waits like a retriever, all wound up and tense, waiting for us to throw the mouse. We will throw it , and he will blast off to catch it, batting it around until it is subdued. Then he comes trotting back with it in his mouth. He’s smart enough to drop it near enough that I don’t have to stretch to reach it. Repeat, repeat, repeat.

I have occasionally found one of these fake mice on, or in, our bed. It’s likely he brings these to us in the middle of the night, wanting to play. Or, this is the equivalent of a house cat showing his owners his “kill.” Except in our case, our bed is our doorstep. I shutter to think of this cat catching a real mouse.

I woke up this morning and while I was still groggy, Dave demanded to know if I planted one of those fake mice under his pillow. What a charming idea! I can see why he might think I would do something like that. It’s kind of a big secret that Dave is mortified of mice and vermin. He is afraid of hates them. Did I say it was a secret? Oops.

But no, I had not planted a fake mouse under his pillow. It took several rounds of denial, back and forth before he was convinced I had not put it there.

Turns out, in the middle of the night, Dave felt this hard, foreign object under his pillow. It being dark, and him being asleep, he recoiled at what it might be. When you live with a cat, there’s a wild world of possibilities. In the dark. Under your pillow. The litter box is in the upstairs bedroom, just steps away. It was possible, not likely, but possible, this object under his pillow was a cat turd.

With justified caution, he wadded up some tissues to pick up this unidentified object from under his pillow. He did all this in the middle of the night, in the dark. I imagine he was probably freaking out, because wouldn’t you freak out if you thought there was a cat turd under your pillow? He said he didn’t want to turn on the light and wake me up if he didn’t have to. Isn’t that nice? I slept soundly through all of this.

He brought the possible turd, wadded up in tissue, into the bathroom. He flicked on the light. Just one of the fake mice! Gross, but not as gross as a cat turd under your pillow. He left it on the bathroom sink and came back to bed. Maybe this is where he began developing the theory that I purposefully put the mouse under his pillow. And if I were him, and I was thinking about this, I’d be pissed at me.

Later, like many nights, I had to get up in the middle of the night to use the restroom. In order to stay half asleep through this process, I put a night light in the bathroom so I don’t have to turn on the glaring white light in the middle of the night.

I wash my hands with just the night light on, and notice this object on the sink. It looks suspiciously like a cat turd. I make the slow mental calculations in my head as I wash my hands.  And yes, it’s unlikely, but possible, that the object is a cat turd on the bathroom sink. I flick the light on. It’s just one of the fake mice. Whew. Dave told me he put it there on purpose. Just to give me a scare, just in case I had deviously put the mouse under his pillow and intentionally set this whole evening of fun events in motion.

But no. Not me. It was the cat.

Let’s see if this happens again tonight.


  1. You should get a dog, then you don’t have to worry if it’s a cat turd or a real mouse. Either way it gets eaten!

  2. Indeed, that is one of the charms of dog ownership. My parents have two mini schnauzers and in their house, kitty poops are known as “breath mints.”

  3. I wonder how many “unfollows” I’m going to get from this conversation.

  4. Remember Scotchy would leave dead mice under the rugs in the cellar? And did you ever hear the story of Steph waking up to feeling poo in her hair from Spam (her Pomeranian) that had pooped on/around her pillow at night?

  5. milk jug rings!!!!

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