Maybe he could help me brainstorm ways to keep portal-happy intruders out of my room? Can't be any worse than my own ideas. Don't think of me as an intruder. Think of me as an uninvited guest that won't stop bothering you. ...Oh for crying out loud, Yukari...
How about lobotomies? Or how about something NOT involving putting sharp objects in people's heads? Where's the fun in that?
Don't even think you are touching me with a surgical knife! He cannot even touch us anyway. Though I will have choice words if the owner of this body gets harmed in any way... Calm down guys. No one is doing anything to anyone. Right, Rock?
Fine, fine. So, Curtis, why not get dogs... or hire Justin Bieber to house sit? That would keep people away. I think he's more of a cat person. So... a tiger then?
Regenerates, technically. Callista keeps a specific chamber set aside for that purpose. It's basically like a save-state in a console emulator, except she also remembers whatever it is that kills her last. Much as I like the thought, I still have to share a house with five cats. I'd rather keep tigers and cheetahs out of my room. (And we've never had much success with dogs, truthfully.) I've managed to distract her with my cats before, though. She thinks they're adorable. Kitty~
Cats can be pretty cute. It just they are indifferent to us existing if we don't need to feed them or happen to be in house.
What I find weird is that several of the cats go absolutely nuts about me, and I'm not even the one that takes care of them. How does that even make sense?
Cats can be pretty different in their behavior. Honestly I do think they have personalities of their own. Some maybe affectionate. Some maybe loners. Some maybe a mix of the two. Hell there are some that are absolute trouble makers.
Cats are as complicated as people. That's why there are crazy cat ladies they wanted lots of children.
My mom's cat likes to lay in front of the fridge and attack my feet. The little butt licker scratched the hell out of my ankle a few minutes ago so I flung a handful of tap water at him.
That's why I have dogs, of course they make it hard to type when they are both demanding scratches at the same time.
I'd say he got off easy. He's a spoiled little brat. Come on, hon. You know he's cute. He's still a little turd.
That they do. With Gianna and Callista's passing, Clover's the oldest cat in my house, and she's been making the transition from beleaguered tomboy to grouchy old lady recently. Magglio is fairly aloof during the day, but goes absolutely nuts for attention at night and loves being sung to. Annabella's the most feral of the group, and while she doesn't mind attention it has to be on her terms; if we pet her, she has to see it coming first or else she'll lash out. Missy Coco has the sort of unerring faith in humanity that can only come about by being a total airhead: she loves everyone unconditionally and has little, if any, concept of danger. Our youngest, Philomena, is a walking cement block who bounds for the top of the piano whenever I leave my room and starts hollering at me to pet her. They're a rather varied bunch. About the only real thing they have in common is that they all like my Mom to varying degrees.
