Training Your Human 101, by Harmony the Cat

The Professor

Lesson 1:  Treats

Harmony:  Since the time of the Pharaohs, 4,000 years ago, humans and cats have shared their homes with each other in a mutually satisfying arrangement.

Me (Human):  Actually, cats became domesticated around 12,000 years ago in the Middle East, but not in Egypt.  Egypt came later.

Yes, but mentioning the Pharaohs is a good attention getter.

Okay.  It’s your lecture.  I just thought I’d point out ...

Not while I’m talking!

All right.  Whatever.  Sheeesshh!

So obsessive!  Now, where was I.  Oh yes.  Since the time of the Pharaohs (pause, looks at human)  cats and humans have shared their lives together.  This arrangement has been highly beneficial to the cat, providing him or her with potential servants ...

“Slaves” is more like it.

... ahem ... to cater to the cat’s every whim.  To achieve this end, a certain amount of training is required.  In this first lesson, I will teach you how to obtain treats from your human.  This is a necessary skill, if you don’t want to spend your whole life eating only food that has been scientifically tested and all that rubbish so that it’s good for you, makes your coat shine, etc., etc., etc.  Bo-ring!!

Expensive, too, especially if you turn your whiskered nose up at it, walk away and let it turn into little stinky rocks!

First, you must put Plan A into action.

I can’t wait to hear this.

Plan A is known as “The Buttering Up Phase.”  This should begin as soon as your stomach tells you it's time for some treats, preferably every time the human gives any sign of getting up from a chair or a couch.  Your tactics consist of nose nudges, head butts, and leg rubs.  If the human ignores these, a love bite or two gets the message across.  Pester the human until he or she starts to yell.  If the big ox still won’t move, go on to Plan B.  Scratch the furniture and/or chew on a piece of trash.  THAT is guaranteed to get the big jerk up and heading for the kitchen.  By the way, those same tactics work when it’s mealtime, and the human is late with it.

Hmmph!

Oh, and if you're an indoor cat, there is one more way to get treats.  Wait until you know the human will be heading out the front door, sometimes with a load of garbage and stuff for recycling, other times just with those jingling things that they stick into the door to make it open.  Get right under the human's feet, ready to spring out the door.  I guarantee you the human will immediately divert you by going into the kitchen and putting treats in your dish.

You always do this when I’m in a hurry to get out the door and go somewhere or when I have my hands full.

I don't care.  I'm a cat.  Caring about human stuff is against the Great Cat Code of Behavior.

Is there such a thing?

Oops!  I think I just let out a secret.  Class dismissed.  If anyone from the Cat Behavioral Squad comes along, you don’t know where I’m hiding!

The Adventures of Hubert the Fly

“Good evening.  This is your roving reporter Roberta Ribbits with today’s News of the Eccentric.  I am on the corner of 239^th Street and Bailey Avenue in The Bronx.  As you all know, many people eschew the idea of adopting a dog or a cat and choose instead to acquire exotic pets.  Standing next to me here is Ms. Florence Fadibber, who owns the most exotic pet of all, a common housefly."

“He’s not common.  He’s very uncommon.  If he were common, everyone would have one.”

“I’m sorry.  Yes.  An uncommon house fly.  I guess he’s in that mason jar you’re holding.  What’s his name?”

“Hubert.  I named him after my ex-husband.  There, there, Hubert.  It’s all right. Sweetie.  She’s a nice lady.  She just wants to get to know you.  N-i-i-ce flykins.”

 “Uh.  Yes.  Hello, Hubert.  Tell me, Ms. Fadibber, how long have you had your pet fly?  And what on earth made you adopt him?”

“Well, I was thinking about getting a pet, but I didn’t want to go through all the rigamarole they make you go through in shelters to make sure you’re suitable.  I just wanted to find an animal and take it home, you know?  So one day Hubert flew into my kitchen while I was making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and the rest is history.  I caught him in the mason jar, and he's been mine ever since.  I’ve had him for a year.  Right, Hubert?  Look at him.  Isn’t he just SO CUTE with those huge red eyes?  I love the way he looks at me.”

"Don't houseflies only live about 3 to 5 weeks?  How did he get to be a year old?"

“It’s what I feed him.  He gets Wheaties and spinach, blended together.  I am careful to give him only the healthiest food.  No garbage for him, and certainly no feces!”

“I won’t ask how you feed him.”

“Well ... “

“I don’t want to know, really.  Anyway, our time is almost up.”

“Well, I do it this way.  I just open the jar a little, like this. ... Oh no!  He got out!  HELP!  He’s flying away!  Hubert!  Come back, Hubert!  HUBERT!!”

“Well, there she goes.  Florence Fadibber the Fly Lady.  ...  Ooh, what just landed on my arm?  (*swat*) ...  Uh oh!  What have I done?  Hubert, is that you?  Hubert? ... Uh, back to the newsroom. ... Hubert?”