Darn Funny Cat Stories

Whenever I’m confronted with someone who can’t understand my love for my cats, I remind them of the research that shows pets are good for your health. With this in mind, I thought it would be fun to share fun stories about cats for those of you who cannot have, or do not want, pets of your own. Hopefully, these stories will make you smile or laugh, and bring you some of the relaxing health benefits having a pet can provide. Some of these stories might make you remember why you don’t have a pet, but the people these things happened to now laugh when they look back.

For those of you with pets, particularly cats, I’m sure you will enjoy these too.

Tiger & Spot

These two cats lived their entire lives in California where they spent their days basking in the sunlight. Tiger was, funny enough, a tiger-striped cat, but Spot had the fluffiest black and white fur. Spot got his name for the giant white spot on his nose. Spot and Tiger were my grandpa’s cats; and, ironically, bear resemblances to my two cats. Anyway, my grandpa is a packrat—that man keeps everything, from snake skins to old railroad pins to matchboxes. One of his favorite things to collect are beer mats. In fact, I remember finding stacks of them all over his living room (his girlfriend no longer lets him collect all of these things). Grandpa enjoyed playing the beer mat game with the cats. Honestly, I think he enjoyed people’s reactions when they learned of his game.

Basically, the cats settle comfortably on the floor, as cats do. Then everyone gathers around the cats, and toss beer mats onto their bodies. The mats are fairly light, so it is like tossing paper onto them. The point is to see how many beer mats you can get onto the cat before they move and knock them off. Spot was the best cat to play with because he would let you get through three stacks without even moving. Tiger tended to last through one stack, then head outside. Not Spot, though. After he moved (usually flicking a few mats off with his tail), he would let you start the game all over again. You could literally sit and play the beer mat game with Spot for hours. I think Spot spent most of his time with a sack full of catnip, so everything was cool with him.

Tiger wasn’t as laid back as Spot. Tiger sure could be a lover, but he was a bit crotchety. He always wanted everything to go his way. He especially didn’t like it when Grandpa went out of town, although a perfectly nice friend came over to take care of the cats. Once, when Grandpa went on an especially long trip, Tiger really got annoyed with the situation. To show everyone what he thought of it, he took a dump in the middle of Grandpa’s bed. The friend saw this, so he washed the sheets and blankets, leaving them folded into a nice pile.

When Grandpa got home from his trip, he found the neat pile on his bed. On top of the pile was another poopy gift. That was one smart cat.

Frisky Felix

My aunt and uncle have three sons, two older cats (one of whom is always catnapped by the crazy neighbor and the other only has one eye), and a dozen chickens. So I thought they were crazy when they added a kitten to their family. It turns out that Felix fits perfectly into their household—he’s insane. He’s an adorable kitten with the sweetest white paws, he loves to be held and cuddled, and he can be found curled into any crack and cranny in their house. Like most kittens, he’s fearless and curious about everything, but he doesn’t have any common sense.

We were gathered for dinner at my aunt’s house one night when my grandparents were in town. Still a tiny kitten, Felix wasn’t yet allowed to go outdoors alone, but that didn’t stop him from trying. The little bugger finally succeeded, vaulting out of the house as though he’d planned it for weeks, and straight up the tallest tree in the yard. Felix didn’t stop on one of the low branches, oh no, he had to climb as high as he could go. In fact, he climbed until the branches grew to thin to support his tiny weight.

This is a tall tree rooted in a steep hill. Half of the tree hangs over into some bushes, creating a decently soft break if Felix were to fall. The other half stretched ominously out past a stone wall to the sidewalk—basically, we had to pray that if Felix fell, it wouldn’t be on hard cement side. So there we were, in the middle of a dark, winter evening, huddled out under a tree, attempting to coax Felix down. The little devil had climbed so high that he couldn’t come back down. After awhile, we had to go inside, leaving the poor baby up in the tree. We could hear his sad meows all the way in the living room.

The next day, I called to see if Felix had come down, only to hear he still sat up in the tree, yowling. Neighbors and passersby kept coming to the door to offer rescue ideas, but nothing seemed to work. My aunt did the next logical thing: she called the fire department. Unfortunately, the fire department had far too many other important things to do (like put out fires and save people’s lives) to come rescue a kitten out of the tree.

On the third night, I stopped by their house, convinced Felix would have come down already. But no, he was still high up the tree, crying out for help as pitifully as ever. We were afraid he would pass out from hunger and fall. My grandparents insisted they would reschedule their flight home if Felix didn’t come down before they left—they couldn’t leave with all of this excitement going on. We tried everything we could to coax the cat down, but he wouldn’t budge.

Finally, the next morning, they heard a triumphant meow, then a scratching on the backdoor. There stood a skinny Felix, exhausted and shivering. He ate an entire bowl of food before collapsing on a rug in front of the fireplace. My grandparents were able to make their original flight. But, Felix still loves climbing trees.

My own cats are named Benny and Freya, and they are little rascals in their own ways. Freya is our sweet, plump girl. She is a cuddler, but very opinionated—always speaking her mind, letting us know when she wants something, which happens to be always. A cat of leisure, Freya spends her days finding new ways to show us her belly, inviting us to give it a rub. She’s mastered the art of getting someone, or something, to pet her: our hands, legs, shoes, backpack, wall, chair, or anything else she can rub against.

Freya loves to hide, thinking nobody can see her, whether it is in a box, beneath a rug, or under the coffee table. She’s funny in a sweet, loving way, but you would have to know her to really appreciate her humor. Now, Benny, on the other hand…

Benny is about two weeks younger than Freya, and although they are now 1½ years old, he remains the precocious kitten. He loves to jump and climb onto everything, from the refrigerator to the windowsill to the top of doors. He is an acrobat who can balance himself on the narrowest of ledges. There is nowhere in our home that he hasn’t explored or sniffed, from the tops of bookcases to the cupboard under the bathroom sink.

As long as he stays off of the kitchen counter and dining room table, we pretty much let Benny climb and jump anywhere his heart desires. He’s talented enough not to knock stuff over or scratch anything during his adventures. One night, though, he went too far. I was in the shower, washing my hair, when I heard Benny screech. He must have made the sound as he leaped. Suddenly, I saw a flurry of dark fur and claws, above me, trying to balance on the shower curtain rod. There I stood in my birthday suit, all soaped up, with a freaked out cat about to fall into the shower. I screamed for my husband to help, reaching my arms up to help Benny balance himself. But I was wet, so he tried to shrink away from me, making the entire situation worse. It really only lasted a matter of seconds, but time slowed down as I imagined him falling towards me, claws frantically reaching out to latch onto something as an anchor, but finding only me. Luckily, my husband recognized the frenzied call in my voice, and came in to save the day. From that day on, Benny meows like crazy whenever any of us are in the shower.

Luckily, if he gets into too much trouble, Freya just bites him in the butt, and he shapes up.

Please share your funny cat stories in the comment box below. Ah, pets...you can't live with 'em, but you can't live without 'em.