I have no kids--you should thank me because if I did, they would be monsters. When my cats act like complete ingrates, I think to myself, imagine if they were human.
Every night I "sit with the girls." I plop down on the couch with a book and sit with Pandora on one side of me, and Pimmy (the other kitty) on the other. Pimmy hates Pandy so they have so sit on opposite sides. I pet one when I'm on the left page of the book, the other when I'm on the right page. I really am trying not to have a favorite though Pimmy is a big fat jerk lots of the time.
Pandora is not one who likes being pet like other cats. Pandora likes getting beat. She also likes me to pull her skin, but I'll get into that in another post. Before you call cat protective services, beating is just a fancy name for patting her real hard. It's akin to dribbling a basketball. She lays with her butt up in the air and then I know it's time for the beating to begin. And I just pat her with a steady rhythm. I try not to beat her too hard or she gets excited and has an asthma attack. I also have to make sure I don't aggravate her arthritis, so I'm beating her side more than anything. Trying not to hit the hips or the shoulders. It really is a production, but I spoil her. So the other night I was beating her, and I was watching her because if I hurt her, she turns her head and quacks to let me know I need to stop. If I don't notice, she will try to kill me. As I was watching her, my hand came down on her side like normal and whizz spurted out. Yes, Pandora peed. She's gotten a lil leaky in her old age. The weird thing was, she didn't know anything happened. She, having no idea she just leaked a lil, looked back at me--demanding more beating. So after wiping her off (with a paper tow