What does my cat think when I kiss his little head? Does he know it’s affection or does he think I’m trying to eat him
These questions are totes why I follow you, top quality content right here
It’s important!
Well it depends. Do you try to put ketchup on him before kissing his head, that would change things 😛
Yes. I put ketchup on my cat before I kiss his head.
Fun bit of info!
Kitties rub their heads against their chosen people as a method of scent marking, but not of ownership. Instead, they’re getting their scent on you because they know that you’re a family, but you smell “Funny” compared to them. They’re trying to make you smell like their family.
If your cat allows you to kiss their little head, it’s because they’re accepting -your- scent, and being part of your family.
Ketchup included.
This is a good note, thank you
This why they boop you. 🙂
Fact:
In animals that have communal grooming as part of their behavior, sticking your face in their face for kisses/boops doesn’t bother them at all because they know you’re not going to eat them.
But, with frogs (and other animals you shouldn’t be putting your mouth on) that do not have communal grooming there’s a high chance their first reaction will be “plz don’t eat me” before realizing you do not mean them any harm.
Also; if you accidentally step on a cat or a dog, or accidentally pinch/hurt a smaller pet and after they squeak or yelp you start petting them and trying to reassure the animal that you weren’t trying to hurt them they’ll understand that. Puppies and kittens get a little too rough with their play, but when a litter-mate ends up squeaking because they got hurt the puppy or kitten will stop playing so roughly and switch to kisses/licks as a way to apologize before they go back to playing.
When humans act the same way, and do not hurt them again it registers as “oh that wasn’t on purpose” and the animal quickly forgives you.
This could mean the difference between staying healthy and getting cancer for a lot of people. Damn!
This is important for many with autoimmune diseases because most of the medicine – in addition to the diseases themselves- cause severe photosensitivity.
Black people regardless of skin tone should pay attention to this too. The UV rays are much stronger now than they were when you were younger, everyone needs to wear sunscreen.
Also keep in mind doctors aren’t trained on spotting skin cancer signs on black skin, so use sunscreen please!!
people who don’t own cats: cats are so aloof… they just keep to themselves and don’t care that you even exist
cats: hey! hey! hey! hey! pay attention to me! hey! why aren’t you looking at me! hey! hey! if you don’t pet me right now i’ll freakin die! hey! heeeyyy!!!!
and first off, I’m 5’7, 5’11 in dance shoes, 170 pounds, broad shoulders and big hips and not small in any dimension. For a ballroom dancer, this means a lot of time spent learning the men’s parts. Especially in lifts.
I’ve had years now of guys kinda just going “lol heck naw” when told to lift me. I don’t admit this part much, but it makes me want to sink into the ground and die when every other girl can be lifted, but I’m just too big.
So this guy, smaller than me and really cute, shows up at auditions and I see this girl across the room getting tossed about like the beautiful pixie she is, and apparently I looked a little wistful because this boy asked me if I liked lifts.
“Oh. I… Uh… I’ve never really done the girls part. I’m a little big, haha…” (laugh it off, as usual.)
He looked me dead in the eye and then picked me up like a movie princess, bounced me in the air a few times, and set me down effortlessly while telling me whoever refused to lift me before was just being a lazy wimp.
I seriously doubt this boy will ever really get how much that meant to me. But, holy cow. Some faith in humanity just got restored.
Tom Holland always ends up on a positive note whenever he’s sharing something. He’ll be like “I was wearing the tight spider-man suit and I had to hold my pee for 11 hours and I was really sweaty but it was great! I loved it!” “I got major migraines after being upside for a long time when shooting the Washington monument scene but it was a learning experience and I wouldn’t trade it for the world! :)” “Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan make fun of me and I cry at night but it’s all fun! Loving life!”
funnily anough in brazil when u accept bullshit without speaking up its called “swallowing frogs”
i walk into starbucks and order a pumpkin spice latte with 13 shots of espresso. i tell the barista that i intend to transcend humanity and become a god. i ask for no whip cream
you say this jokingly but i had a customer actually order a pumpkin spice latte with 9 shots of espresso (also no whip) and when i asked her to verify that she did indeed want 9 shots of espresso she looked me dead in the eyes and said “i have 5 kids”
I once had a woman come in and ordered an Americano with 19 shots of espresso. The drink took ages. It held up the line. I asked her why, and she shrugged and said “I just don’t care”. We still talk about that woman. We never saw her again.
new cryptid: exhausted woman at starbucks
Actual conversation I had at register:
“Hi, welcome to [Starbucks]! What can I get you, today?”
“How much is it to fill a Venti with Espresso?”
“I- I’m sorry?”
“A venti cup. How much to fill it with Espresso?”
“Oh. uh. Well, it’d be I suppose… I only have a button for a Quad. I don’t have special pricing for twenty ounces of espresso in a single… drink.”
“Price is the furthest thing from my mind right now. How many ‘add shots’ is that?”
*deep breath of fear* “It’d be a quad with,” *clears throat* “uh, sixteen additional shots of espresso. But, ma’am, I should tell you that the shots will start to get really bitter if they have to sit and wait for us to pull twenty of them-”
“Taste means nothing to me.”
At this point I am truly fearing for my very existence in the presence of what must clearly be an eldritch being.
“Oh. Well, okay.” I put on my absolute best customer service smile to hide my terror and accept that I must face this dragon, fae, or demon with dignity. “We can certainly get that for you! The price will be _____.”
She begins to pay, I shit thee not, with golden dollar coins. We are a block from Wall Street, and this eldritch demi-being is paying for an unholy elixer with golden coins. My life will end soon, I am sure of it.
“Do you still have the ‘Add Energy’ packets?”
My heart began to race at this request. “Yes ma’am.”
“How many can I add?”
Futile though it is, at least I know the rote response to this. “For health reasons, we won’t add more than one per drink and we cannot sell the packets individually.”
“One then.”
I alter the order and tell her the new price. She pays, dumps the change and five golden dollars into the tip box. I write the order on the venti cup and pass it silently to the girl working the hot beverage station. Normally we called and pass, but this was … not something to be spoken aloud.
My fellow takes the cup, not thinking anything of the minor break with protocol, until she sees the order. She stares at me. “No.”
The woman, which I call her for no other greater insight into her terrifying being is within my grasp, simply stands on the other side and says, calmly but with a commanding tone I expect of Admirals in bad movies, “Yes.”
My fellow barista pales before her task. But we are dutiful, we are true to our task, great though it may be. She sets about clearing the two brand new Matrena’s of all distraction, and sets two tall cups in the ready position. The energy packet is emptied into the venti cup, and the shots begin pouring.
The barista was damn near shaking. This woman’s gaze felt like the fires of the sun. Finally, the shots are pulled, the cup is filled, and the hand off takes place.
Our visiting Incomprehensible takes it to our milk bar and adds a dollop of cream. Satisfied, she proceeds to down what must have been half the damn cup.
Then she smiled at us, like a benediction and I was honestly filled with joy. And horror. She left, and we knew nothing more of her after that.
When I talk with other former employees, we quickly begin talking about “The Company” as if we’d never l, perhaps knowing that part of our soul still powers that awesome and terrible corporate machine. And when I share this stroy, other Baristas at first act shocked but quickly settle and comes the chorus,
“Yeah, I had one like that.”
Okay, Starbucks lore is my new favorite genre of literature. Please collect all these and more into a book.
The Chaos Bitches 