Why do cats rub up against your legs? One of life’s unanswered questions? Perhaps not. Cats rub up against your leg to make you smell like a cat. The more you smell like them the more they like being around you. Cats also rub your legs to show affection or because they are hungry. Cats have scent glands along each side of their face, chin, mouth and other parts of their bodies. They use these glands to scent/mark their territory. When a cat rubs you, he is marking you with his scent, claiming you as “his.” He is picking up your scent, as well. Cats rub up against furniture or doorways for the same reason – to mark the item as “his”.
How many times have you crossed your legs while sitting in a meeting at work or at a function and you see it….the despicable swatch of cat fur attached near the bottom of your slacks. It can be quite an embarrassment when you have the appearance of a human lint roller. It’s not as simple to remedy this situation as one would think. There are no means possible that will allow you to, nonchalantly, brush it away. It is stuck there with the strength of Velcro. Trying to remove it, at this juncture, would draw more attention and require some really weird herky jerky movement on your part. I often take the high road and ignore it until I can, privately, remove it so as not to draw more attention toward it than necessary. After all, I may be the only person who has noticed it. There is no good reason why someone would be fixated on the bottom of my slacks anyhow, right? On past occasions, I’ve bent down and carefully brushed the fur away while, at the same time, proclaiming with an excuse, “Will you look at that! My silly cat decided to show me a little affection right before I walked out the door“. But, of course, there will be that one non-cat person in the room giving you that condescending smirk of disgust. At that very instant, that individual just labeled you as a disheveled, eccentric cat person and visualized your house as being one big palace of fur.
The first night of my spay surgery was a little rocky. Mom said I was just like a human in that nighttime is always the worst if your are not feeling well. I just couldn’t get comfortable. I was in pain, but it was not yet time for my next dose of pain meds. Mom tried her best to ease my pain by massaging me to relax my muscles. She read that massage can release those “feel-good” endorphins, increase circulation of the blood, elevate the levels of oxygen and even accelerate the healing process. Whatever. All I know is that it worked.
Mom wasn’t too sure how I would do alone in my kennel and she certainly didn’t want to put me in the dreaded cone while in the kennel, so we had a slumber party of sorts in the greatroom. It would have been super fun if I hadn’t felt so bad. I slept a short time on my bed but decided I wanted and needed my mom when my pain began, so she put me on the sofa with her. Let me tell you, that was one tight fit even though she removed the back cushions for us. I tossed and turned like a bucking bronco, according to mom. I slept on thirty-minute intervals; each time waking up in pain, flipping and flopping and panting. I insisted that I have my head laying on my mom at all times and pawed and rooted around to get her attention. She also gave me some popsicles during the night and that seemed to help with my panting. I slept the longest from 4:30 a.m. to about 6:00 p.m. after mom was able to give me another dose of my pain meds. Even though mom and I had a restless night, my fur sister, Smoki, slept like a baby in the master bedroom. Can you believe that? She didn’t even check in on me during the night.
All went well with my spay surgery. I was a little ticked this morning because my routine didn’t go exactly as I expected. Not only did I not get my early morning breakfast; usually around 6:00 a.m., I didn’t even get a lick of H2o. I thought mom must be slipping in the memory department, so I just looked at her and barked. I could tell she was trying to ignore me and was clearly stalling until it was time for us leave.
I arrived at the vet at 7:30 a.m. and quickly took control. I have to work the room when I arrive and meet all the doggies in the waiting room and then I have to see my girls behind the desk. I thought maybe they would give me just a morsel of a treat or a quick lap of some water for my last meal but it didn’t happen.
Mom and my Aunt Lisa came and picked me up at 4:00 p.m. I was so glad to see them but a little groggy and really just wanted to go home and go to sleep. I arrived home and I said hello to Smoki, my fur sister, and she didn’t even hiss at me. I guess she sensed I wasn’t feeling well, so she gave me a break. Mom gave me some boiled chicken and rice instead of my chow to keep me from “tossing my cookies“. I must say, it was quite a surprise and really tasty. I think I’ll play sick sometime in the future and see if she’ll come through again!
My pain medicine soon began to wear off and I couldn’t get comfortable, so I began to pace and pant. Mom felt I may have been running a slight fever, as well, so she gave me a popsicle and some pain meds, and I stopped panting and drifted off to sleep as mom laid on the floor next to my bed.
After waking up from my nap, I took a stroll around the yard and mom gave me a treat. I tire easily, so I wanted to get on the sofa with mom but I’m not suppose to jump, so mom picked me up. Yep, all 52 lbs. of me. My pain was beginning to come back so I nuzzled my head into mom’s lap and quickly drifted off to sleep while she calmed me.
Rather than put me in my kennel tonight, mom said she will let me sleep on my bed in the greatroom and she’ll sleep on the sofa to keep a close eye on me. I bet I end up on the sofa with her because she’s such a softy! Woof for now…
My spay surgery is tomorrow and mom has been researching up a storm as to what to expect after my surgery. Quite frankly, I think she’s getting a little nervous and perhaps over thinking the matter of how to care for me during the recuperation period. She says if it’s anything like my broken paw recuperation, it’s going to be a “wild ride“. I’m not familiar with that term, but it sure sounds like fun. Since I tip the scales at a hefty 52 lbs, it may be a little difficult for mom to pick me up, so she may have to call in reinforcements. Mom said she wishes I could have had my surgery when I was younger, but I had a broken paw, and she didn’t want to put me through any more discomfort.
It appears that post-op recuperation will be about two weeks, longer than mom remembers my feline sister’s recuperation after her surgery 11 years ago. Since my activity will be limited, mom is going to buy me some new toys and chew sticks to occupy my time. I’m a little bummed that I won’t be able to run and play frisbee for a while, and I’ll also miss out on the July 4th festivities. Mom’s worried because she doesn’t know how I’m going to react to wearing a cone on my head. To be honest, I don’t think I’m going to like it. I sleep in my kennel at night and don’t know how a cone will fit. Mom said if I’m not comfortable in my kennel, she may bunk with me in the great room. I like slumber parties!
I missed my first catch but quickly recovered and got in my zone!!
As a cat parent, I’ve become accustomed to Smoki’s fastidiousness when it comes to excessive grooming, as well as her refined and well-honed eating preferences. Cats are specific as to what they expect from their human to make certain their culinary needs live up to their expectations. Let’s face it, they are just plain fussy and notoriously picky eaters. We may wonder why they suddenly reject the culinary offerings they have been eating for a long period of time for no good reason. Obviously, they are more attuned to their nutritional needs than we give them credit. Cats are obligate carnivores—they must get most of the nutrients they need from meat. And, if we are not quenching their insatiable appetite for meat, they’ll turn and walk away from the dinner table. Or, on the other hand, they may just be holding out just to see what other tasty offering you have on the menu. It’s characteristic of their genetic makeup to be able to pull off this behavior. And, it’s part of our genetic makeup to go along with their clever ruse. After all, we do live for their existence.
Just like people, some dogs have fears and nervousness that can be as trivial as a noisy vacuum, a thunderstorm, or fireworks. Some pups, on the other hand, suffer from separation anxiety. Separation anxiety can manifest itself through compulsive digging, destruction of items in the home, howling or continuous barking. These things I can understand. However, some dogs have phobias that are, shall we say, down right weird. Cats; we all know have bazaar fears and phobias and ritualistic ways. In fact, their fear of just about any new, inanimate object that is brought into the home that was not previously in the home; brings about some degree of curiosity, anxiety and fear. Thus, the term , “scaredy cat“.
It’s been nearly five months now since this rambunctious, four-pound banchie of a furball named Baylie came into my life. The times I look at her and ask “Baylie, are we going to make it?” after she has gotten into some type of mischief or caused me great strife, have become less frequent. Two, three and four months in, I was still asking myself, “what have I done? Can I really handle this dog” along with, “why can’t she be as fastidious as the cat and I“? As is the case with any relationship, you go through the honeymoon stage and then the harsh reality sets in.