Well, my current assortment of animals isn't too cooky...but I've had some really weird animals in the past.

Misty, my old long-haired Russian Blue, loved to sleep in shoes (and I mean IN), sniffed coffee, and adored Arby's Roast Beef.

Gizmo, my mom's black and white cat, would "talk" while she ate. She growled to keep the other cats and people away from her, and it sounded like talking...or something off a Halloween tape.

Ophelia, my Turkish Angora, was also a 'play fetch' cat. She claimed one of my fake pearl necklaces and would love bringing it to us and leaping after it to drag it back for more.

Tangerine, my ex-husbands' female orange tabby, was the cat-dog. She meowed every time someone called her by name, came instantly when called, and loved everyone and anyone. The only feline thing she did was to be a 'rug cat' - i.e. she would zip across the room at high speed and end up a pair of eyes and a nose under the rug (or jeans, or towel...anything laying around, really).

But the master of weird behavior was my first cat, Pippin. He was a grey tabby with the brain of a fish...he was so stupid it was hilarious. He regularly missed jumps of only a few feet, and would return to my father seconds after having been thrown into a snowdrift by him. The best thing, though, was when he was chasing a bird around the backyard. Tired of hopping around in the grass, it flew up onto a fence post, so Pippin followed it. When it had had enough, and saw the cat jumping up for it, the bird took off for the skies...and Pippin followed it with a graceful leap that landed him in the compost pile.