I love my tuxie-boy Cosmo, but he’s a little bit of a slob. I always think of cats as tidy little beings, always impeccably clean and tightly tucked, usually symmetrically perfect. My little Phoebe is a great example of that. Her face is always clean and she stands with her feet pulled in, looking orderly.
Cosmo? Not so much. Granted, he sometimes does a nice job pulling himself into a solid loaf, but he usually has a the tip of a foot sticking out or an “elbow” flapped out from the edge of the loaf. One of my favorite looks is what I call “thumper foot.” He sits almost completely tidily, but one back foot is kicked out to the side. Once he actually thumped it really quickly, just like Thumper from Bambi.
Speaking of body parts hanging out, Cosmo’s tongue occasionally doesn’t make its way back into his mouth after a bath. It’s adorable, of course, but makes me laugh. He looks so sleek and gentlemanly, and then there’s his bubble-gum pink tongue. Maybe he’s going for the Lil BUB look.
Cosmo enjoys licking objects with interesting textures, including various types of plastic and the wrought iron on my bed’s headboard. He’s so loud and messy when he does this licking business — sometimes the spit seriously flies. And when he’s finished, his “lips” need a good wiping.
Mmm … food and treats! As demonstrated in the photo of Cosmo enjoying the liquid Lickety Stik treat, he’s clearly enthusiastic about anything delicious or refreshing. He’s not, however, what I’d call “neat” when it comes to eating and drinking. When his eager face emerges from the food bowl, there’s usually some leftover bits stuck to his face or whiskers. And when he’s finished a drink from the fountain, he’s guaranteed to have several water droplets hanging from his chin. I really don’t think he minds the gravy flavor left over from his time with the Lickety Stik — it’s a snack for later in the day.
His spit not only flies, it also drips like a faucet, especially when he’s happy. He’s a major drooler, and the harder the purrs, the faster the drip. When he sits in my lap, I constantly dab his mouth, absorbing some of the spittle before it lands on my pants. If I think enough in advance, I place a little towel on my lap before he jumps up for a snuggle.
The drool machine is harder to control when he’s under the covers with me at night. I don’t realize how large the drool pools are until I roll over and land in a series of cold, wet spots. I wonder if there’s some kind of contraption I could invent that would absorb the drool? It could attach like orthodontic headgear and have a sponge-like piece along the chin. I think there’s some money in that idea, and you’re welcome to run with it. Just make sure you let Cosmo in on the beta testing.
Is your cat a slob? Tell us in the comments!
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About the Author: Angie Bailey is an eternal optimist with an adoration of all things silly. Loves pre-adolescent boy humor, puns, making up parody songs, thinking about cats doing people things and The Smiths. Writes Catladyland, a cat humor blog, Texts from Mittens (birthed right here on Catster) and authored whiskerslist: the kitty classifieds, a silly book about cats wheeling and dealing online. Partner in a production company and writes and acts in comedy web series that features sketches and mockumentaries. Mother to two humans and three cats, all of which want her to make them food.