my cat wants her collar back on

My cat asked me to put her collar back on.  WTF.

I try to get the cats used to everything in their life.  I handle their feet regularly so that claw trimming isn’t a terrible ordeal for us both.  They all now enjoy getting their tails scratched or brushed.  When I go away for a while I start preparing the cats for it a week in advance.

And they all like their collars.

I have this weird thing about the collars my cats wear.  They have to be comfortable and durable, with an easy-release clip.  And it has to look good, in colors that previous cats did not wear.  My family’s first cat Inky had black fur and a red collar.  Pepper the white, grey and black tabby also wore red.  My old cat Marbles, gorgeous brown mackerel tabby, had blue.

Raven, with his black fur and white moon-belly patch, has a black-and-white collar with stars and moons.  Brown tabby Ollie wears green.  He had a blue one, but when he lost it outside I got a new color before anyone could protest.  Nutmeg, light of my lap and my girlie, has one of those coats you really can’t describe easily, so lets just say she’s a ginger brown and gold blended tortie-tabby that’s ever so subtly lopsided and her eye makeup is always perfect.  Because she is a lady, she got purple.

I like to take the collar off as a treat.  It’s fun to see them stalk around and scare the bejeezus out of the other cats with their new quiet attacks.  Nutmeg is clearly pleased about this, because I’ll see her fluffing her fur up with contentment.  It’s also great to hear them forget to be quiet and hear their little feet stopping around on the floor.  Screw sneaky cat, I guess.

Nutmeg enjoys playing with her taken-off collar – it is a ribbon-ish thing with a bell, after all.  That it smells like her is likely a big bonus.

I let her go sans collar for a few days before putting it back on.  She doesn’t mind, and sits still for me.

But today she picked up her collar in her mouth, and crying out her baby-cry; “Ow, yow, yow, ow, a’row, ow?” She carried it out of my room, down the stairs and into the family room, where she dropped it in front of me.  I was working on a different blog post.

“Prrt?” She prompted me.  Well?  Yep.  Purple collar and pretty cat.  I picked up the collar and went over to Nutmeg, who didn’t move at all.  She sat perfectly still as I gently clipped it on.  I stood back.

Good human, her eyes said.  I snagged me a smart one.  She gave me an eye blink and slipped off.

Just last week she asked me to open the bedroom door so she could puke in the hall instead of in our room.  This is an awesome cat.

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