Proof Of Cats OWNING Humans

MA-Caver

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I knew it!

Cats Do Control Humans, Study Finds
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Mon Jul 13, 12:50 pm ET If you've ever wondered who's in control, you or your cat, a new study points to the obvious. It's your cat.
Household cats exercise this control with a certain type of urgent-sounding, high-pitched meow, according to the findings.
This meow is actually a purr mixed with a high-pitched cry. While people usually think of cat purring as a sign of happiness, some cats make this purr-cry sound when they want to be fed. The study showed that humans find these mixed calls annoying and difficult to ignore.
"The embedding of a cry within a call that we normally associate with contentment is quite a subtle means of eliciting a response," said Karen McComb of the University of Sussex. "Solicitation purring is probably more acceptable to humans than overt meowing, which is likely to get cats ejected from the bedroom."
They know us.
(more here) :http://news.yahoo.com/s/livescience/20090713/sc_livesciencecatsdocontrolhumansstudyfinds;_ylt=Ag1NJTFmMyfdZG3geZz3WSKCfNdF
No wonder dogs are man's best friend and cats worst enemy... the dogs see what the cats have been doing and have been trying to save us from being at the whim of these creatures. :lol:
 

KELLYG

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I have seen this several times and still love it enjoy

Excerpts From The Dogs Daily Diary
8:00 am - Oh Boy! Dog food! My favorite!
9:30 am - Oh Boy! A car ride! My favorite!
9:40 am - Oh Boy! A walk! My favorite!
10:30 am - Oh Boy! A car ride! My favorite!
11:30 am - Oh Boy! Dog food! My favorite!
Noon - Oh Boy! The kids! My favorite!
1:00 pm - Oh Boy! The yard! My favorite!
4:00 pm - Oh Boy! The kids! My favorite!
5:00 pm - Oh Boy! Dog food! My favorite!
5:30 pm - Oh Boy! Mom! My favorite!
6:00 pm - Oh Boy! Playing ball! My favorite!
6:30 pm - Oh Boy! Sleeping in masters bed! My favorite!
Excerpts From The Cats Daily Diary
Day 283 Of My Captivity.
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little
dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat,
while I am forced to eat dry cereal. The only thing
that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the
mild satisfaction I get from ruining the occasional
piece of furniture. Tomorrow I may eat another
house plant.
Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving
around their feet while they were walking almost
succeeded; must try this at the top of the stairs. In
an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile
oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit
on their favorite chair; must try this on their bed.
Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless
body, in attempt to make them aware of what I am
capable of, and to try to strike fear into their hearts.
They only cooed and condescended about what a good
little cat I was. Hmmm, not working according to plan.
There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices.
I was placed in solitary throughout the event. However,
I could hear the noise and smell the food. More
importantly I overheard that my confinement
was due to MY power of allergies. Must learn what
this is and how to use it to my advantage.
I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and
maybe snitches. The dog is routinely released and
seems more than happy to return. He is obviously
a half-wit. The bird on the other hand has got to be
an informant, and speaks with them regularly. I am
certain he reports my every move. Due to his current
placement in the metal room, his safety is assured.
But I can wait, it is only a matter of time. . . .
 

Flying Crane

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Just last week it was time to change out the litterbox. Problem was, we had recently moved to a new neighborhood, and the local pet supply store didn't carry the litter we usually use. I didn't have time to go back to the old neighborhood, so I picked up something different. I admit, I had a bad feeling about this because several years ago we tried to switch to a different kind of litter, and it didn't go over well.

So I dumped all the old dirty litter, scrubbed out the box and filled it with fresh, different litter, and put it back in its place in the back hallway.

Princess Grendel of the delicate sensibilities waddled on over to check it out. She poked her nose in and tasted the litter (it is a grain-based product). She stuck her paws in it and backed out. Several times. Over the next couple hours she would wander back and check it out, consider getting in, but always back away.

Finally, I turned away for about 5 minutes, and turned back just in time to catch her finishing up pooping on the floor, right in front of the box. She had this look on her face like, "what the hell are you looking at me for? YOU'RE the one who ****-ed it up!" Her vote had been cast.

The next morning I had to be away for the whole morning, but I went back to the old neighborhood and picked up a bag of the old kind of litter.

When I arrived home I found another pile of poop, right in the middle of the kitchen floor where nobody could miss it.

I promply switched over the litter again, to the old kind that she likes.

The cats live here. I just put out food and change the litter.
 
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