- PPF Points
- 1,737
if you’ve ever had a cat, you probably know what I’m talking about. There’s something about those moments—her just hopping up on my lap and going to town with her paws, like she’s got some secret dough-making gig on the side. It’s absolutely adorable, but let’s not lie, sometimes it feels like getting an unsolicited acupuncture session. Claws out, eyes half-closed, she’s lost in her own little world. And I’m just sitting there, a willing human-shaped pillow, hoping she doesn’t hit a nerve (literally).
What cracks me up is how this isn’t just random kitty nonsense. Nope. Turns out, it’s pure instinct. I did some digging (because of course I did, she’s my little weirdo). When cats are tiny furballs, they knead their mom’s belly to help the milk flow. Fast-forward a few years, and they’re still at it—except now, your lap is the chosen squish zone. It’s oddly sweet, like she’s carrying a piece of her kitten self with her, right into our lazy afternoons.
But here’s what really gets me—this kneading thing isn’t just about comfort. Sometimes, I catch her looking at me with this “I own you” vibe, claws digging in just a tad more, as if she’s double-stamping her territory. Like, “Hey, you, don’t forget who runs this house.” And honestly? I’m not even mad. It kind of makes me feel special, like I’ve been knighted into the secret society of cat people. Her purring ramps up, and she seems more chill than ever, like all is right with the world.
The more I think about it, the more I wonder what other throwback behaviors are mixed up in our pets’ personalities. I mean, are dogs still chasing their tails because they’re channeling their inner puppy? Is my cat’s obsession with hiding in boxes some ancient survival hack, or just the feline version of loving a good fort? Who knows, really. But it’s kind of comforting, if you ask me. These weird little rituals? They remind me that our pets are a bundle of old instincts and pure affection all rolled into one. Makes every slightly painful, dough-kneading session totally worth it. Well, almost.
What cracks me up is how this isn’t just random kitty nonsense. Nope. Turns out, it’s pure instinct. I did some digging (because of course I did, she’s my little weirdo). When cats are tiny furballs, they knead their mom’s belly to help the milk flow. Fast-forward a few years, and they’re still at it—except now, your lap is the chosen squish zone. It’s oddly sweet, like she’s carrying a piece of her kitten self with her, right into our lazy afternoons.
But here’s what really gets me—this kneading thing isn’t just about comfort. Sometimes, I catch her looking at me with this “I own you” vibe, claws digging in just a tad more, as if she’s double-stamping her territory. Like, “Hey, you, don’t forget who runs this house.” And honestly? I’m not even mad. It kind of makes me feel special, like I’ve been knighted into the secret society of cat people. Her purring ramps up, and she seems more chill than ever, like all is right with the world.
The more I think about it, the more I wonder what other throwback behaviors are mixed up in our pets’ personalities. I mean, are dogs still chasing their tails because they’re channeling their inner puppy? Is my cat’s obsession with hiding in boxes some ancient survival hack, or just the feline version of loving a good fort? Who knows, really. But it’s kind of comforting, if you ask me. These weird little rituals? They remind me that our pets are a bundle of old instincts and pure affection all rolled into one. Makes every slightly painful, dough-kneading session totally worth it. Well, almost.