Sometimes my cat will whine and try to get in my lap, but if I pick him up and put him there he leaps off. It’s only good if he climbs up himself.
I will perform a flying leap from half way across the room, them sink all of my claws in to your thigh so as to execute a flawless landing upon that fleshy perch. Your sudden, and entirely unwarranted, yelp and twitch will then perturb me enough that I must leap off, again using all my claws for maximum grip. I shall give you an irritated glance and then stalk off.
For my cat:
Making biscuits on my dick and balls well I wince from occasional claws. Instead of laying down, they just jump off and walk away.
According to my husband, our small cat is a tiny little fairy princess, right up to the moment she stomps on his balls with 500 kilos.
We need to study how a light cat can put down 300 psi of pressure through each paw.
The secret ingredient is pain.
9 times out of 10 she’ll just curl up between my legs after doing the pain dance.
I think the time she doesn’t lay down she’s just punishing me for not feeding her. It’s this or clawing the couch next to me, which she never does unless her food bowl is empty.
Number 3:
I spontaneously become Kali, the goddess of relentless war and saber-toothed fury.
You don’t even have time to realize what has hit you.
