Now that I no longer work 24-hour ambulance shifts, and work out of my home, I spoil my cats rotten. I probably spend more money on their food than I do on my own, and they pretty much command my attention even when I don't really have it to spend.
My cats have developed what I generally refer to as traditions, although it might more accurately be described as manipulations. Cutie, one of my 24 year-olds, who rarely plays with toys, nevertheless uses them as props.
Another cat that I lost less than a year ago, Bird, would hold a toy in her mouth and yell, wanting one of the other cats to come play with her. This was something that worked for her when she was a feral cat, as other cats around the neighborhood would come to play.
When I took her into the house, my cats would ignore her calls, so I'd feel bad for her, and come to play with her myself.
After several years of this, Cutie picked up on it. Although she is not at all interested in playing with the toy, when she wants my attention, she brings me a toy and calls. The rule is that I have to drop whatever I'm doing and give her some attention. This usually involves her going into her box, which I will then pick up, either carrying or flying her around the room, or dragging her across the floor.
At night she carries the toys up to our bedroom while I'm sleeping and during the day, she brings them back down. A few weeks ago, I had to pick up all but about ten of them, and put them away, because she was showing up with another toy every five minutes.
Now, of course, my wife's slippers, socks, or stuff she pulls out of the trash sometimes substitute for toys.
Her sister, Lydia, will meow and run up to the top level of the cat tree -- which, by itself, ain't bad for a 24 year-old. When she does that, I have to go over and play with her, as she slaps at my hands from her position up high.
Whenever I go upstairs, the young one, Ella, will follow me up, and I have to play with her, Da Bird begin her favorite. I had to buy another coffee pot for downstairs because she was hitting me up every time I went up for a cup of coffee.
Spoil them? Nah, not at all. I just meet their demands, is all.
