If Duncan went to school, he’d totally get at least a 3.25 GPA.

Good thing he doesn't really love garbage...or guns...
Good thing he doesn’t really love garbage…or guns…

Duncan is a pretty smart guy and often demonstrates this in interesting ways.

He uses his head and can open doors…well, figuratively in that I’m sure he’s using his head to think about it somewhat, and literally using his head to push doors open.  He hasn’t figured out how to get doorknobs yet – mostly because he kind of sucks at jumping.

He figured out how to break into the automatic feeder and get himself snacks whenever his little cat heart desires (yeah, that had to go due to Disasterbetes2010 – more on that later!).

He knows how to read a clock; well, maybe not but he has an uncanny awareness of time (specifically food time) and knows how to continually notify us of that time.  For instance, he will repeatedly and unabashedly try (emphasis on try – I don’t let this one happen…gross…like I’ve said before, I’m not a crazy cat lady so this doesn’t appeal to me in the least.  Just like dogs licking faces.  Ugh.  vomit) to put his paw in my mouth to get me to wake up and feed him.

He has good self-awareness and can clearly point out his favorite things.

He can also beat Adam at chess, checkers, hangman, and connect the dots.

Duncan is adept at informing us of these favorites, as well.  His preferred method of informing us of favorites is to sit on (or sometimes directly next to) the object of his infatuation.  Usually this is his cat stick (literally a fabric stick with just catnip in it…oh, Duncan haven’t you learned?), some sort of string (so unpredictable and fun!…unlike spiders), or the bird with boots (an enchanting little blue cowboy bird wearing red boots…he loves that thing).

When he sits on these things, I find myself talking to him saying something like, “Oh, you’re on your bird, huh?  You love that, don’t you?” and walking past him after a pat on the head.  Then I feel guilty for not playing with him (because that’s why he’s sitting on it, right?) so I’ll pick up the toy, twirl it around for about 10 seconds until he paws at it, then walk away when it looks like he’s having fun by himself.  I’m an awful pet parent…

Generally is the same old same old upon which he sits, but he has some strange surprises up his sleeve fur.  For example, he’ll sometimes sit on shoes.  Really, Duncan?  Shoes?  They smell, you can’t use them since your paws are so small, and you’re too big to sleep in them.  Other times it’s my foot when I get out of the shower.  For a cat who isn’t into water, he loves to roll around on my wet foot, which is gross since I just got those things clean.  I’ve also seen him lay on papers or books before, which I can only assume is his attempt to finish school and get a real job.

My hope that his favorites stay cute and neutral/positive and don’t start turning into upsetting items like, say, a knife.  Or a voodoo doll of yours truly.  Or perhaps a pamphlet for some creepy cult that believes in sacrifices or Kool-Aid.

All I can say is that I’m keeping my eyes peeled on that cat.  He might just be too smart for his own good.

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