I posted into a couple Cat owner groups over on Yahoo and Delphi, mainly to find new audience for the comic I drew about my cat, Quincy. Just in case anyone from there ever comes here to see my blog, perhaps I should talk a bit about Quincy. Forgive me if I sound like just another nutty cat fanatic for a bit.
He's a male, fixed, just over 4 yrs old, spoiled, All Black charmer.
I named him Quincy, after the old Jack Klugman show. His full name is Quincy M.E.OW
He's the first pet I ever had that was "mine", as in I was the family member to pick him out and bring him home.
I rescued him from the pound when he was about 8 wks old. He'd been found stray by an older woman who just loved him, but couldn't keep him.
I went to the SPCA and saw three kittens in one cage together, two whites, and one black one. I wanted to check out one of white ones, but they were shy, and wouldn't come to the front. While I was leafing thru the paperwork on the cage, seeing their ages, where they were found, etc. , a little black paw reached thru the wires and grabbed my finger.
I looked into those eyes and changed my mind. I figured if this little guy was going to be the most out-going of the group, he deserved a home. I adopted the black one. Later on, when I saw how he prferred to attack only the white stuffed animals in my house. I realized that he had simply established himself as dominant over the two white kitties. Yes, Quincy was a RACIST! A cute, cuddly, little kitty racist!
BUt he quickly wormed his way into the hearts in our house, despite his character flaws.
He took to his litterbox immediately, and has an odd habit about it. Every time it's cleaned or scooped, he stands by to immediately "rechristen" it. I once tested this, and scooped the box three times in a row after he did his christenings. each time, he gave me a look, went back in, and did more business.
Quincy also has a fascination with the toilet, and how we humans use it. When he was still little, he liked to climb into my underwear and lounge in it like a hammock between my calves as i went "number two". When I had to piss, he'd stand by the bowl and watch. He was intrigued by the swirling waters when i flushed. I think he knows what the handle does.
Often, as I finish, he stands up, and rests his paws on the handle, but doesn't have the leverage to flush.
Sheesh! I just re-read this, and I sound like my Mom, who refers to herself as Quincy's "grandma". NO. I'll stop here and remember my self-admonition. I will not be "owned" by my cat. If Quincy wants to dominate, he can generate his share of the income. So, please, log into my ebay store, and buy some Quincy comic-books.