Shadowing Practice: Talking about my cat again - Learn English Speaking with Video
Ders oluşturuluyor...
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I was really surprised with how many people enjoyed hearing about Tostada.
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Like, there were a lot.
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So it's about time I tell more stories, because she's somehow gotten even more creatureous since the last video.
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Tostada...
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We can say she's gotten very needy, as well as very comfortable with using her voice.
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There's been plenty of times where I'll be working in silence until she waltzes into the room
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and disturbs the piece by meowing and yelling to beg for attention.
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I always give in whether I have the time or not, but it's unintentionally taught her that if she just gets louder and louder,
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eventually she can get her scratches.
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By being kind, I've created a very pathetic and loud cat.
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Sometimes Tostada will walk into the other room, get confused that no one is around, and start echolocating for help until I shout for her,
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to which she prances happily into the room as if she wasn't just distraught.
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I don't know if she does this because she actually is lost or she just wants to hear me call for her, but it happens multiple times a night.
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Once Tostada was downstairs and howling for me to call her, so I walked out to the area above the stairs where she could see me.
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But something must have not connected right in her little brain
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because instead of going up the stairs that she goes up and down every day, I watched her blank little eyes glaze over trying to compute
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what to do mom's up there Tostada's down here Tostada wants to go up to mom
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walking forward doesn't go up mom's making circles with her hand pointing don't understand Tostado wants to go to mom.
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She forgot going up the stairs takes her upstairs.
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If she really needs my attention and howling non-stop hasn't worked, Tostado started pawing at me.
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She's really not all that coordinated, so I'll be doing something and suddenly feel the shakiest little paw on my arm.
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One morning, I woke up to a shaky paw on my face.
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So guess how I wake up every single day now.
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Tostada loves to lay on my computer because it's so warm, but since her balance is so god-awful,
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she's fallen off way too many times for me to believe she's got any sense of cause and effect.
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Normally, she'll notice just a moment too late and struggle to catch herself, in whatever pitiful way she can.
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But the most recent time, she just did not wake up at all and bounced off the floor like a bowling ball.
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Poor thing opened her eyes and all she could muster was a confused little...
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At some point, Tostada realized she absolutely loves getting little head kisses, so she comes over and begs for them multiple times a day.
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This is very cute, and I love giving them to her, but there was a time I was too busy to stop what I was doing, so after meowing and shaky pawing,
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she discovered a new way to ask for attention, standing directly in front of my face and headbutting me in the mouth.
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I don't know how she consistently innovates new ways to get me to pay attention to her, but can't connect the brain wires to remember how to leave a room by herself.
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We discovered that she has a favorite Pokemon.
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When Tostata isn't sitting on my neck with her heavy-ass paws or falling off my computer, She's typically at her follow-up spot,
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which is curled up on my life-size furret plush.
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I have a furret sitting behind a few other plushes up against a window, so I think it was the perfect setup for her to feel safe
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and secluded while also being able to look out the window to chirp at the birds and squirrels outside, which is really cute.
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I didn't realize cats could do that.
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Eventually, I think she just started associating furret as a bed because she started sitting on another furret plush I own.
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Tostada loves furret a lot.
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It's her favorite and it's adorable.
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So one of her favorite things to do is sniff.
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I know it's a common cat thing, but Tostada out sniffs the other cats combined by an insane margin.
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And for really no reason other than it brings her joy.
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I've walked around our home with Tostada held up as high as I can get her
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so she can explore all the scents she's too small to experience.
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I can tell she enjoys it
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because she purrs real loud the whole time in between inhales and I've somehow taught her the command, Wanna sniff?
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I'll say it while stretching out something new and she happily prances over to take giant whiffs for a little too long.
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Tostada particularly enjoys sniffing freshly sipped water bottles.
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I'll take a swig and somehow she spawns next to me with her peepers, knowing I know what she wants.
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I swear I don't have bad breath though, don't spin it in that direction.
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My breath is fine and minty and fresh.
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It's the cat that's abnormal.
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There's only one scent she despises, and that's orange juice.
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Apparently cats have a natural aversion to citrus in general, but it feels like it hits Tostada harder than average because she makes the most upset,
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betrayed face before running out of the room.
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Despite knowing the scent of orange juice, and knowing she doesn't like it, she still comes over
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and begs to take a whiff every time orange juice is in the cup
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because she's completely blinded by her love of sniffing water.
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The result is always the same.
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It's like watching her be prisoner to her own mind.
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But one fateful day, Jacob and I witnessed Tostada encountering something even more potent and evil than orange juice.
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We were cleaning up the kitchen from hanging out with some friends the night before.
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Tostada jumped onto the counter and spotted something she's never seen before.
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An open bottle of alcoholic margarita mix.
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Before we could even warn her, she hopped on over, took a sniff of the opening, and I crossed my heart,
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I'm not exaggerating, did a backflip in revulsion.
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Part of me felt like I failed as a cat parent
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to protect this innocent thing from the horrors of what true stench could look like.
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And the other part of me was just laughing on the floor.
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It was so funny.
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You guys already know Tostada's super paranoid with noises.
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There's not a single sound she doesn't think means instant threat.
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But I should mention there's an asterisk.
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Because for some reason, any noise I make is completely fine.
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Jacob scoots the chair a bit, deer in headlights.
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I open mouth sneeze in her face, must have been the wind.
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A plush falls off the shelf and lands softly on the carpet, running for her life.
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I suddenly burst out into a coughing fit, doesn't even care.
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Doesn't care.
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Those examples might actually, to be fair, be related to the fact Toastada loves when I get sick.
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Even though I'm coughing and hacking and sniffling at full volume, the only thing she cares about is that I'm in bed all day.
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Which means she gets to cuddle way more than normal.
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I really enjoy it.
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She keeps me company while I sit there rotting and watching movies all week.
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The only complaint I get from her is if I cough a little too long, she gives me a side eye like I'm ruining our awesome little relaxation day together.
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But yeah, besides that, this cat is scared of everything else that does not pertain to me.
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When I got the Tostada plush in the mail, she actually hated it and wouldn't go anywhere near the thing.
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Her tail got real big and fluffy
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and her eyes somehow got even rounder as she froze in fear for her survival against herself.
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Apparently, she wasn't the only one.
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A bunch of my friends also said their cats hated the Tostada plush.
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My overall findings estimated around a 50-50 split on whether a cat will love the Tostada merch plush
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or try to gouge out its jugular.
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I unironically think the giant cartoon eyes perfectly trigger their built-in instincts to say this stuffed animal is a giant predator.
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So all I'm saying is
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if you get the Tostada plush that's now an evergreen product on my merch site just to see
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if your cat is a Tostada lover or hater, you'd be contributing to the community field research.
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It was a bit too hot out last summer, so I turned on my ceiling fan for the first time.
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Uh, tragically, since Tostada's never seen it move before, she was petrified and refused to come into my bedroom anymore.
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Normally, her fears don't interrupt her or my daily life, but I was really upset she wouldn't fall asleep curled up on me anymore.
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The fear of the in-motion fan overpowered her love of bedtime, and it was a dark period for the household.
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Eventually I was able to condition her to the fan, but she still needs to look directly at it for a bit every once in a
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while to make sure it isn't gonna fall down and slices into cubes.
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How ironic it is that my birds, who can be killed by a ceiling fan, have no fear of them at all,
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but my cat, who cannot be killed by the ceiling fan, needed exposure therapy.
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I think the objectively wackiest thing Tostada is actively terrified of is Frasier after he gets a haircut.
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Once a year we take Frasier to get his fur shaved down
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because it gets way too long for him to take care of
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and he quite literally will try to slit our wrists if we try to brush him.
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It's been the best system that works for all of us, excluding Tostada because she suddenly doesn't recognize him anymore in the slightest
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and is horrified at the scary new intruder in her home.
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From her point of view, she witnesses her best friend get hauled out the door
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and go missing for an hour until some strange ugly freak comes in to replace him and no one seems to care.
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This time this happened, Tostada was so distraught
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that she actually hissed at him and up until
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that point she hasn't hissed at anything
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so I knew she was going through levels of distress she's never experienced in her tiny sheltered life.
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We would try to mediate and help her realize the scary flat cat was actually your buddy Frasier all along!
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Tostada, you love Frasier!
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He's been around all your life!
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You cuddle on the couch together all the time!
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Just take a sniff!
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I assume it's probably the shampoo that the groomer uses that washes away Frasier's familiar scent.
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And then of course he looks different.
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So nothing about Frasier is recognizable to Tostada at all anymore.
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We quite literally have to wait out an entire week for him to grow his fur back out a little
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and have his natural smell return.
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Of course, Frasier is very vain
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so he takes a hit to his ego every time Tostada freaks out and runs away from him.
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We watched so many times as he tries to show her that he's the same old Frasier, he'll sit in the doorways of rooms she's in,
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slowly try to approach and get close to her, but every time is the same story.
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It's not a great week for anyone.
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Despite Tostada's fears and general anxiety, there is a ray of hope amongst it all.
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I have no idea how or why, but Tostada gets brave at night.
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We could have friends over all day and not see a single Tostada sighting, but once the clock strikes 9pm,
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suddenly there's a little silhouette staring at us from the doorway.
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As long as it's nighttime and the noise is bearable, Tostada will come out to greet and sniff
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and rub up on the people she was previously terrified of for reasons I have yet to understand.
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I know cats like to be active at night and stuff, but Tostada seemingly sheds all her shyness and crippling anxiety in an instant and becomes a completely different cat.
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My only working hypothesis is
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that she gains strength knowing her beloved bedtime is right around the corner
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and that somehow acts as a bit of newfound courage.
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But I don't know.
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I just really think she somehow decided nighttime was safe and there's no reason behind it because her brain is an enigma.
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I'm glad she can defeat the voices though.
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We always make sure she gets lots of hugs and kisses every time so it really encourages her.
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Alright, so a bit ago Tostada was wheezing every once in a while, so I took her to the vet who diagnosed her with light bronchitis.
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I assume it was because she went through a phase where she would eat dust.
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They prescribed her some antibiotics
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and it was then my responsibility to make sure she eats a pill twice a day for the next week.
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As you can imagine, being that this was Tostada's first time having medicine, It was not gonna be easy for both of us.
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The first attempt was a learning experience.
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I managed to get the pill in her mouth
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and did the little trick where you rub a cat's throat to make sure they don't spit it back up.
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But since I just gave her the pill with no treats or anything, I watched as she gagged at the taste of it for a bit.
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It was not easy to look at.
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I felt really bad.
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Determined to try and give her a better experience, I decided to put the pill in a small ball of cheese.
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Cats love a little cheese treat.
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Except tostada because of course she's not normal in even that regard.
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This so-called cat hasn't showed a single shred of interest in human food ever
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because I don't think it registers in her mind what we eat is also food she could technically also eat
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and it objectively tastes better in every aspect.
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It's been great because she never begs for food unlike others But now, when I present to her a tasty cheese ball with absolutely no antibiotics in it,
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she has no idea what to do with it.
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Eats dust and gives herself bronchitis, but doesn't want to eat cheese.
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So I was left to force feed cheese twice a day to the only animal in the world that doesn't want cheese.
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She's all better now, and I would bet money she's forgotten all about the week where I suddenly turned evil for no reason, but walking into her presence with a cheese ball made me
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feel like I was dragging her down to hell twice a day.
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Jacob and I were going on a long road trip and planned on taking the cats with us.
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Taylor and Frasier have experienced both being in a car
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and being in a car for an extended amount of time before but we knew poor Tostada was gonna struggle.
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The main question was how upset was she gonna be?
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Tostada is a homebody.
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She has no desire to ever leave the house, does not want to experience anything new, hates anything that has to do with outside.
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If it were up to her every day would be the exact same, everything would be controlled and predictable, zero adventure at all, forever and ever because she has no concept of time and death.
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We knew ripping her away from her beloved home just for a bit to sit in a loud scary vehicle
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that carries her further and further away from the world she's
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so attached to would be not her preferred way to spend the day.
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We packed up the cats in their carriers
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and didn't even get fully out the door until Tostada let out the loudest howl I believe a cat can physically make.
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This might be the worst day of her entire life.
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On the road we let them out of their carriers so they could be as comfortable as possible.
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Frasier sat on the middle console as if he was a copilot to the ride.
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Taylor sat in the back on top of all her snacks
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and bags creating her own little cove of solitude and Tostada hid in the dark under the dusty seat.
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After a few hours with not a single peep
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or sign of life I decided to drag Tostada out from under the chair both to
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try and convince her to sit with the rest of us and also do a wellness check for my own sake.
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I peeled her out from the floor and...
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Oh my god, are you crying?
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Tostada's humongous eyes were wet and glossed over and she had a single tear running down her cheek.
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This poor thing was so heartbroken over the car ride.
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She was defying her biology and crying tears of sorrow.
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This absolutely was the worst day of Tostado's life.
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She will never be able to understand how lucky she is
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that the worst thing to ever happen to her is a ride in the car.
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After a while, she did start emerging to look out the window
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and wander a bit before going back under for a few more hours.
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Maybe she was just checking if she'd somehow been magically teleported back home before slinking back under the chair to wallow.
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But at least she wasn't crying alone on the floor anymore.
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The sun started setting and the day was fading away as we drove onwards until Hi, Tostada!
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What's got you climbing around and exploring?
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Oh my god, she's brave at night even in the car I just do
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not know what comes over Tostada at night at this point
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I don't think there's a single thing she'll back down from as long as the moon
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and stars are out She was hopping around to all the windows even though she couldn't see anything
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because it was all pitch black now happily climbed over to the passenger seat to sniff around, started meowing and chatting up a storm,
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kept trying to weasel her way into my lap to take a closer look at the gas pedal.
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Despite me knowing everything about this cat, every habit, every trait, every quirk, downloaded and forever locked into my mind,
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I just don't understand how?
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How is she her own being?
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She has her own little consciousness in that smaller than average skull of hers
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that makes her live her own life and makes her own decisions even though they're very dumb.
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She shares the same world I do and yet she digests it so differently.
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How can a creature like her even exist?
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And how did I get so fortunate to be the one that has her?
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Tostada experiences so many pointless fears and harmless anxieties that are gonna stick with her until her final days,
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but her unwavering happiness and joy pierces through all of it effortlessly,
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and it makes me so proud knowing I'm the one that's giving her this perfect little life.
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Every day I think about how lucky I am to have the perfect cat made for me.
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No one else could possibly understand and treasure her more.
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Tostada was simply meant to be mine.
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And we make each other so happy.
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If you haven't seen, the new merch is still technically available.
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We worked hard to put together a really fun lineup of new Tostada and Ariplush keychains, Hawaiian shirt, beach towel, and fanny pack.
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It all goes away on August 10th, which as of right now, if you're me posting this video is in a few days.
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So you should probably run over to jadenanimations.com right now if you're even thinking about grabbing anything.
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Just a peek won't hurt, right?
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Thanks as always for watching.
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I hope you enjoyed me just talking about my pitiful little cat again.
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I will tell her that you all say hello.
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All right, bye-bye.
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