How To Hold A Cat Without Losing An Eye

And a Friday in a pear tree...

2007-12-18T14:24:00.000-05:00

Friday loves Christmas. He lives to chew on bows, pounce tissue paper and climb the tree. Over the years, I've learned a few things about living with him during the holidays. I don't put bows on packages until I'm loading them in the car. That saves a lot of embarrassing explaining to friends and family about why the bow on their gift looks like it was attacked by an angry paper shredder. When wrapping, I just give him his own sheet of tissue paper. He can amuse himself for hours and forgets that I have a stack of the crinkly paper right next to me. Ok, he doesn't forget and sometimes he gets two sheets but it avoids a sudden and unexpected pounce to the paper while I'm assembling the wrapping. Finally, I mash the hooks for the ornaments down tight and don't worry about the tree. I confess, I think it's really funny when he peaks out at me and at eight years old he's cut down on his tree time. Still, hanging out in the tree is high on his list of fun things and with an 8 month old kitten in the house, he often uses it as a kitten-free hideout.

Yesterday, I strolled in the dining room to wrap a few gifts and organize the room. Friday and the kitten, Seti, were chasing each other through the house. Friday believes he is very, very fast. He knows in his heart he could win the Kentucky Derby when the truth is he's actually quite slow. Still, he enjoys the delusion and the kitten was ruining it since the kitten actually is fast and Friday was repeated pounced. He “zipped” into the dining room with me, got tackled, again, and headed for his refuge in the branches of plastic. The tree rattled as he climbed up and settled in. I walked over and peeked in at him. He beamed at me, pleased with himself.

He was still and the tree didn't seem in danger of collapsing so I returned to my wrapping. After several minutes, he again began to wiggle around causing the branches to shake and the ornaments to bounce. He kept this up much longer than usual. Concerned he was playing with an ornament or attacking the lights I went back to the tree to check on him. He gazed at me. The look of self-congratulations replaced by concern. I stuck my hands in and tried to lift. He growled low in his throat. Can't be. I ran my fingers around him and sure enough he'd managed to wedge himself in the tree. He was firmly stuck, a strange, fluffy Christmas ornament! I couldn't help it. I laughed at him. The brilliant cat who can open doors with his paws managed to get himself stuck, again! For such a smart cat he really has a knack of getting into some unusual situations. After some finessing on my part and copious growling on his part I freed him from the tree. He doesn't seem any worse for wear but he hasn't been back in the tree since!

cat cats cat humor cat comedy christmas cat

Merry Christmas Kitty

2007-12-10T10:47:00.001-05:00

See my Christmas tree!

Wait. What's that?

It's Friday!

cat cats cat humor cat comedy christmas cat

Kitten Under (In) the Christmas Tree

2007-12-05T12:39:00.001-05:00

I have psychosis which Dictionary.com defines as, “any severe form of mental disorder, as schizophrenia or paranoia.” What mental disorder I have is questionable, what is certain is that whatever it may be, it's severe. How do I know I suffer from such affliction you may ask? It's simple. I put up a Christmas tree. Why did I put up a Christmas tree? Was it to celebrate one of my favorite holidays? Was it to enjoy the warm twinkling of the lights? NO! I put up a Christmas tree because I didn't think it was fair to ask my new kitten, Seti, to miss out on the joys of slapping ornaments, climbing to eye level with me or (his favorite) attacking the tree skirt and dragging it to the other side of the room. Textbook psychosis.

I first became anti-put-up-Christmas-tree when Friday was young. Christmas is Friday's favorite holiday. It contains all his favorite toys: bows, paper and, of course, trees. He decided the tree made a killer cat fort. It's an ancient fake-tree (I shudder to think what sap from a real tree would do to his thick fur. He bleeds me for brushing him; cutting little clumps of sap-soaked fur would be like voluntarily entering a torture chamber.). At least seven years ago, Friday climbed to the top of the tree for a nap. There's still a bald spot. I'll never forget walking through the living room and being possessed with the feeling that the tree was looking at me.

Once, he used the tree to hide cookies he stole from my grandfather. Who knew cats like Gingersnaps? As I prepared to put a large package behind the tree I noticed the cookie stash. There was a whole cookie, a half a cookie and a pile of suspicious crumbs. Grandpa shouldn't have fallen asleep and left his snacks unguarded around such a sneaky thief.

What have I learned from my years of living with Friday during the holidays? As I scoop the tree skirt up another time I sigh and realize I've learned nothing more than to bend the ornament hooks down really tight and pray no one chews on the light strands. Still, watching the cats play with the decorations makes me feel better about not having cable. There's nothing on more entertaining than a cat at Christmas!

cat cats cat humor cat comedy christmas cat

The Laughing Cat Edition 3

2007-10-02T10:10:00.000-04:00

Cats and laughter just seem to go together. Who needs TV when you've got a new kitten like I do? TV is predictable. Cats, on the other paw, are spontaneous. It seems like just when you think you've got them figured out they think of new and hilarious ways to keep us guessing. The third edition of The Laughing Cat celebrates a few of those feline antics that keep us giggling and coming back for more!

Is it laughter? Is it rage? Either way we think Samantha from Life From a Cat's Perspective is one funny cat! Look out Tigger!

Ron King presents iPod Loving Cat posted at Cat Care, Breeds and Resources Blog. Who doesn't love a little music mixed with their cat?

Rob presents Misia helps with the diet posted at Dusk and Dawn, saying, "Misia has been doing her best to help with my recent diet. If only she weren't so strict...." Chocolate lovers and compulsive snackers beware!

Abbey presents Cat & Rat Introduction posted at DSM Fish Gal. Cats and rats together? What could go wrong?

Bob O'Hara presents Why I've not been blogging much posted at Deep Thoughts and Silliness, saying, "I consider this a public service, to warn the world of what it may face."

Cheysuli presents Thankful Thursday posted at Chey's place. What sort of carnival would this be without a Meezer to help us laugh our way through?

Miss D presents A CD Spool Cat Toy and The Wonderpet Cat Tunnel posted at Prefurr.com, saying, "Mei Mei thinks the wonderpet cat tunnel is the king of toys." Now, where can I find a CD spool?

Thanks to everyone who participated! Our fourth edition will be right here November 6th. Submit your funnies via Blog Carnival by November 5th!

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It's Coming!

2007-09-28T11:56:00.000-04:00

The Laughing Cat carnival edition three will be here next week! Don't forget to submit your funniest cat stories, photos, poems, whatever to join in the fun! Submissions can be made via email or through the Blog Carnival submission page. They're due by Monday. Come back Tuesday to read about the funniest cats on the web!
laughing cat blog carnival cat cats cat humor cat comedy

Boredom Leads to Cat House

2007-09-25T10:12:00.001-04:00

I was bored. Always dangerous. Bored in Target (as I happened to be on that occasion) is usually a financial liability. Instead of spending bored money on myself I decided to shop for my cats. I selected this the Large Cat Jungle Gym. It looked like something the cats would enjoy and had the added bonus of lots of parts to put together so I was assured some amusement as well.

I brought it home, fired up the camera and asked who wanted to help me put it together. Friday was laying in the window watching birds. Kit stole a piece of the jungle gym and zipped down the hall to play with it. Hemmy offered to supervise.

Luckily I now have Seti who was delighted to help. Lucky, lucky me.

Seti and I got to work. He was responsible for touching each piece with his paw as I picked it up and biting the instructions. I did the rest. He took his responsibilities seriously. He was concerned about this particular note that was attached to the pop up canvas "cat house."
We took the warning seriously; it was on yellow paper after all. We opened the cat house very, very carefully and were disappointed when the best it could muster was a small stretch. We were hoping for something a touch more dramatic. We moved on.

After staring at the picture and screwing my face up into various expressions of confusion and frustration Friday took pity on me and helped. I soon made a box.

I was pretty pleased with my accomplishment. I'm no engineer. I'm a pet sitter. Luckily, I'm pretty creative so once I got the feel for the pieces I really picked up speed. I made lots of boxes.

It didn't take long to put the canvas pieces on either. Soon we had a new cat fort and Supervisor Hemmy decided to be the first in. He deemed it "fun" and soon everyone else came in for a turn.

Seti's favorite part? The dangly toy mice of course!
cat cats cat humor cat comedy cat toys

The Laughing Cat Edition 2!

2007-09-18T10:16:00.001-04:00

The September 4th edition of The Laughing Cat Carnival didn't quite make it up on time due to technical difficulties. Since you must own/borrow a computer to read this I'm certain you understand! Anyway, here it is the second edition of The Laughing Cat, late but as funny as ever!

GrrlScientist presents Jack, the Lion-Hearted Housecat posted at Living the Scientific Life. This is one of my personal all-time favs!

xco presents Bitchslapped posted at Blame It On The Voices. This reminds of me of the time my cat Kit decided to murder my father-in-law's Labrador.

xco presents Blame It On The Voices: Cat vs. Kid. Cat vs. Kid, you know who wins.

Alta presents Biscuits In The Dresser posted at Love Country Living. This family has a great story and excellent advice for what cat owners should do when they find clumps of cat hair around the house!

Jon Rochetti presents Cat Fight posted at The DC Traveler. Scroll down to watch the video of the World's Stupidest Monkey!

That concludes September's hilarity! Be back here October 2nd for more feline mayhem!

laughing cat blog carnival cat cats cat humor cat comedy

The Biggest Challenge

2007-09-02T12:39:00.000-04:00

When I found the kitten, I thought the trickiest part would be integrating him into my already cozy household of 3 cats and a dog. Of course, there was also the potential that my husband would snap and murder me in a fit of cat overkill. I had no idea that simply naming him would be so difficult. What's so hard about picking out a name anyway? It turns out a lot!

Initially, I called him Smidgen. He was so little, tiny that he needed a cutsie name. Anything else would have seemed to big for him. After some nutritious food and a safe environment he grew like a weed and Smidgen suddenly seemed like it wasn't going to fit much longer. A quest for a real name began.

Friday's full name is Friday the 13th because he's a solid black cat. Since the kitten is also solid black I thought it might be fun to name him something similar, sort of a cat name theme. I racked my brain and the Internet. I looked up web sites devoted to topics on Halloween and superstitions. Nothing seemed to match his personality. It was all so sinister and he's actually quite a lover. I gave up on the theme.

The kitten is a real lover but he's fiercely brave too. I decided to explore this avenue for a while. I wondered about famous people known for similar traits. The only one I could come up with was Don Juan and I didn't like that name. Ok, fine. I turned my attention to characters known for being brave lovers. Swashbucklers! Swashbucklers are notorious for romancing women and fighting daring battles. I could see the kitten with a little bandanna on his head and patch over one eye swinging from a rope on a ship, sword in paw. That reminded me of one of my favorite movies, The Princess Bride. Giddy, I decided The Dread Pirate Roberts was the perfect name for my kitten and stubbornly insisted on calling him by his full name.

I soon got tired of trying to force six syllables out of my mouth every time I wanted to play with the kitten or stop him from climbing the side of the sofa. I'm a good talker but all those words were starting to stress me out and I couldn't think of a decent nickname so I scuttled The Dread Pirate Roberts and went back to work.

My husband and I toyed with all sorts of ideas: Bacardi, Rasputin, Burt, Barney – hey, we were getting desperate. The last straw for my husband was when I wanted to name the kitten Stevie Nicks because he makes a sound like a goat. I really wanted to call him Stevie Nicks but Brian reasoned that his meow might change as he gets older and ruin my joke. Sometimes life just isn't fair.

There was one name I kept coming back to throughout them all. Seti, like the Egyptian pharaoh. Apart from a somewhat goofy looking face the kitten is extremely sleek and long. His frame reminds me of tomb paintings of Egyptian hunting cats. The pharaoh Seti was the son of Ramses the first and the father of Ramses the Great. Under his leadership, Egypt kicked the butts of its enemies and built some really cool, big buildings. That seems like my kitten. Brave and artsy all rolled into one fur covered, black speck besides the name Seti has the added benefit of only two syllables.

So, Seti is the kitten's newest, and final, name. He doesn't answer to it yet but since it's approximately the sixth name I've given him it might take a while to catch on. Since he's only a couple of months old we've got all the time in the world.

cat cats cat humor cat comedy

When you've already got this many cats what's one more?

2007-08-27T11:34:00.001-04:00

“You got another cat?” my dad asked in disbelief.

“I didn't mean to.” I retorted.

It was true. I didn't mean to but he was so little and lost. I knew as I stood there in the twilight watching the little black kitten pounce a piece of hay that I wasn't leaving the barn without him. He was barely bigger than my hand and the word around the barn was he'd been there for a couple of weeks. I hadn't gone riding in a month so I'd missed his arrival. He was living in the shed where we store the horse's hay. The hay bales made plenty of small hiding places that provided supreme shelter for such a small cat and he needed it. The barn teems with predators who'd love to munch a kitten: hawks, owls, stray dogs and that doesn't even mention the larger cats, opossums and raccoons who wouldn't necessarily eat him but if they attacked they'd leave him seriously wounded.

I glanced at my friend Amye. Neither of us wanted to leave him there. I lost the debate since Amye still has more cats than I do, even after the addition of the kitten. We made a make-shift cat carrier and loaded the kitten in my car. My husband was going to be murderous.

Five minutes into my trip home I decided to ease him into the news. A guitarist, my husband was at band practice for the evening. Band practice puts him in a stellar mood. It was the perfect time to drop the bomb shell. He'd have happy pheromones going to help buffer the blow, sort of like chocolate. Plus, he'd probably already had at least one beer. I dialed his cell.

“How's it going?” I asked. They had just acquired a new bass player and it was his first practice with the band.

“It's going great!” Brian practically bubbled through the phone. “We sound better than ever! He already knows how to play Circles. He learned the into even. And then we were playing...”

I cut him off. “I found a kitten.” I announced. Yep, that'll ease him into it.

“It's not coming to our house.”

“Too late, he's already in the car. We're on the interstate.” I could hear the gnashing of his teeth and imagine the complaints he's soon be lodging with his band members about how I was bringing home another cat. Lucky thing he had those pheromones.

Brian and I hung up and the kitten and I soon arrived at home. I set him up in the office where I could keep him separate from our 3 adult cats and the dog. He didn't know what to think of being indoors at first but a bowl of cat food mixed with some chicken broth made an immediate impression on him. He gulped down the food and soon was purring loudly and happily pouncing some cat toys I'd found for him. It didn't take him very long to decide that living in my house was a definite improvement over the hay barn.

After the trip to the vet revealed that he was transmittable disease free he was introduced to the adult cat population. Friday is great with kittens so he went first. The kitten stared at Friday from underneath my computer desk. Friday ignored him and instead sniffed the litter box and the kitten's food. Soon, though, he eased over to say hello. The kitten hissed. Friday jumped back, feelings hurt and went to hide under Brian's computer desk. That's my brave, fearless Friday. It took him several days to get over his hurt feelings but it wasn't long before he and the kitten were chasing each other down the hallway.

Hemmy went next. Hemmy was indifferent to the kitten and far more interested in the kitten's food. Hemmy is easily distracted by potentially edible items. Kit, on the other hand, didn't give a rip about the extra food. She was furious that after defeating the Labrador, I'd had the nerve to bring another animal into her house. She fluffed up her tail, arched her back and leaped hissing at the kitten. Fortunately, I was prepared for this reaction and I moved to back her up and calm her down; but before I could intervene, the kitten wheeled around, fluffed up his tail, arched his back and hissed right back at her. Kit didn't know what to do. Perplexed, she licked her lips and sassed out of the office annoyed and confused. I began to see how the little guy had avoided being eaten at the barn. He may have only been 2 pounds but he was 2 brave and aggressive pounds. I suspected that he was going to fit into our crazy household just fine.

So here I sit a few weeks later with a four cat household instead of a three cat household. I always said we were full, but I was wrong. Now we're full. Furthermore, I see my suspicions were correct and the kitten is fitting in nicely. He and Friday have a love-hate relationship that involves pouncing and running but includes a general politeness that prevents actual injury. Hemmy is still more interested in the food but that will probably never change and Kit has admitted a grudging respect and has decided not to murder the kitten after all. Since she feels the same about Friday and Hemmy I'm guessing that's the best we're going to get from her.

The kitten for his part is a fast learner. He's a bit of a stinker too and leaps out of nooks and crannies to pounce the older cats. Luckily, he's not only smart he's very fast and has avoided the occasional retaliation from the big kitties. For this reason, he still lives in the office when we're away. I'm not entirely sure if I'm protecting him or protecting the big cats but I'm certain that my own sanity is largely preserved by keeping him separate. The other thing I am sure of is that this little guy will give me plenty of stories to tell and recount here and that's something that I'm looking forward to very much.

cat cats cat humor cat comedy

Where did all the cats go?

2007-08-10T16:49:00.001-04:00

Where did the cats go? Friday looks near the shed.

Kit will look in the yard.

Hemmy looks behind the tree. Wait! Hemmy are you looking or are you rolling in the dirt?

Where are they? This week the cats are right at home where they always are but I'm sunning myself on a sandy beach in a mysterious location! I'll be back soon though with plenty of stories to tell.

Speaking of, I have some exciting cat related news to post when I get back. Hang in there and say a prayer for the pet sitter who has to face down Friday!

Kitiara Triumphant!

2007-08-07T13:47:00.001-04:00

My in-laws went on vacation. Though they have several pets who stay at home while they travel, they decided that their 5 month old lab puppy (who's bigger than my full grown Springer Spaniel) would be better off staying at someone else's home. I offered to let him stay with us. Max is an outdoor dog and we've a fenced in yard. Our dog, Claire, doesn't love him but she only goes out to potty. How much trouble could he be?

On his own he probably wouldn't have been much trouble at all but our neighbor's escape artist Beagle showed him a few tricks and they were roaming the neighborhood the first morning. My husband and I dashed into the streets heading in opposite directions armed with cell phones and leashes. The country dog was lost in the big city. All the potential dangers spun through my brain: cars, more cars, dog-nappers. Dog-nappers! The beautiful chocolate lab pup was a friend to everyone. Anyone could have him. Visions of myself leading rescue parties through the neighborhood surfaced. We'd look in every yard. Peek into every house! I may have to break down doors, violating countless laws but I'd rescue the lost dog so help me God! I'd rescue him!

My cell phone rang abruptly ending my musings. It was my husband. Both dogs had wandered back home and were standing in the front yard. I confess, I was a touch disappointed that I wasn't going to get to kick down a door but my relief overcame that minor setback in my ongoing battle for justice and I hurried back to our house.

The dogs had pushed an old section of fence away from the ground and slipped out. I was ready to put up a privacy fence that day. Brian did some research and came back with an estimated total. Eight hundred dollars is a lot of money. We brought Max inside. How much trouble could he be?

Max isn't quite housebroken. He's a very large puppy. He left some very large puddles. No worries we decided. We hate our pink carpet anyway. He can stay in the laundry room. I moved the cat litter boxes out of the laundry room and moved Max in.

Problems solved. Except for one. Claire soon adjusted to living with another dog. Friday and Hemmy didn't mind Max too much but Kitiara-Kitiara loathed him. Max, it seemed, had committed the transgression of being canine in her presence. She simply could not tolerate such blatant dog-ness. Something would have to be done and Kit was just the cat to do it.

Kit established an anti-dog perimeter vowing to defend the feline territory from marauding puppies even if it killed the puppy. Since the perimeter was slightly larger than the house it didn't take Max long to cross the line. Kit sailed into battle! She launched all eight pounds of her tabby body at 50 pounds of puppy counting on her patented Ninja moves to avoid taking damage or catching puppy cooties. With ears plastered back and whiskers flush to her face she used a rapid firing right paw to inflict maximum damage in minimum time. Perplexed Max ran to me for help. Kit was still attached. With some trepidation I reached in and disentangled one very angry Kit from one very frightened Max. Luckily I wasn't scratched.

Max wasn't so fortunate. Distinctive scratch marks were evident in his fur right between his eyes. Kit really goes for the kill. I could tell some serious peace negotiations were in order. I put in a call to Jimmy Carter. Condolezza Rice didn't return my calls either. It was up to me.

After copious amounts of tuna and a new batch of furry mice Kit agreed to allow Max to live and even to inhabit a portion of the house. She wasn't going overboard mind you. We lived in a tense state until the happy return of my in-laws. Though they'd been traveling for the better part of a day we thought it best to take Max home that night. They were joyfully reunited with both Max and the collection of Claire's toys that Max had claimed for himself. He's a sweet dog but we were happy to have our laundry room back.

The next day dawned and with it the realization by our pets of the intruder's departure. Kit was joyous! She preened and dashed around the house looking exceedingly smug. No doubt she attributed the absence of Max to her war efforts. Reality has a way of sucking the fun out of life so I didn't disabuse her of her notions. If she thinks she's a Ninja kitty what of it? How much trouble can it be?

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Announcement: The Laughing Cat Edition 2

2007-08-07T12:34:00.000-04:00

Loved the first one? Ready for the next one? Don't miss out on the second edition of The Laughing Cat! Megan and the Bad Kitty Cats have agreed to host the upcoming edition. (There are a few bad kitty cats at my house, I'll tell ya!) Submit via Blog Carnival by September 3rd and dash to Bad Kitty Cats September 4th to join in the fun!

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The Laughing Cat Carnival

2007-07-31T10:17:00.000-04:00

Welcome to the first edition of The Laughing Cat. I've searched high and low for the funniest cat stories and pictures from the web and have put together a side-splitting inaugural carnival. I hope you enjoy laughing at the all too funny antics of our favorite four-legged pets - cats!

Bob from Bobbarama never lacks for laughs and he sent us one of my favorites! Here he charts the facial expressions of his cat Griz. Cat owners everywhere can testify to its accuracy!

Miss D presents RSPCA Happy Tails! posted at Prefurr.com, saying, "A happy tail of a rescued kitten!" Happy indeed but funny as well. I saw myself in this story all too clearly!

Hello Kitty Hell presents Hello Kitty Cat posted at Hello Kitty Hell, saying, "This is not what you want to do to a cat." True, it's also not what your cat wants you to do to him. And if that wasn't enough he gives us more.

Sam from Surfer Sam Online presents Purr - fectly Funny Cat Jokes. What's more appropriate than a list of silly cat jokes for The Laughing Cat? Jot a few down to make your friends groan!

Lucynda Riley presents A Cat Story. The orange Bobcat. Posted at The Crazy Cat Woman. I think this cat must be related to mine...

Sharyn presents Cat Rodeo posted at Magick Cat Cauldron. Sharyn clears up several "Why does my cat do that?" questions in this post!

Arvind Devalia of Arvind Devalia's Thoughts and Words shows us how to live dangerously!

Sally presents Living Without Meat: "The Baby Chick Says Meeeoow" posted at Living Without Meat. I posted that pic here once. A commenter though perhaps she was just waiting until they were bigger...

Last but never, ever least Bad Kitty Cat Chaos Festival presents Laughing Bukowski And Jezebel posted at Bad Kitty Cat Journal. Can you think of two carnival festivals better complemented that The Laughing Cat and Bad Kitty Cat Chaos Festival?

The second edition of The Laughing Cat will be presented September 4th so flex your typing fingers and send in your best submissions. After all, no one gets tired of laughing, especially at cats!

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Build Your Own Cat Toy -- No Skills Required!

2007-07-25T10:35:00.000-04:00

Ever wanted to build a toy for your cat but find you have no tools and no talent? With my New Improved Patented Cat Toy Design you too can build a toy for your cats despite your utter lack of skills and limited resources.

Step One:

Order a large item from the Internet that will be shipped in a cardboard box. Here we've chosen a ceiling fan.

Step Two:

Remove the large item and discard.

Step Three:

Remove cat from box.

Step Four:

Fold the two small flaps in and one large flap down leaving a small square opening near the bottom. Tape the flaps in place.

Step Five:

With scissors cut several small holes, called Smacking Holes, around the sides and on the top of the box. The holes should be slightly larger than a cat's paw.

Step Six:

Add cat treats, toys and/or cat nip to the box to lure your cats in.

Step Seven:

Sit back and giggle as your cats hide in and around the box smacking each other through the small holes you cut.

cat cats cat humor cat comedy cat toys

Cat Claws and Furniture Just Don't Mix

2007-07-24T16:00:00.000-04:00

Friday possesses a Master's degree in wreaking havoc, most cats do. Yet its not just the destruction he causes with his paws that makes him noteworthy. It's his unnerving habit of destroying the things you most want to protect and his uncanny ability to reason and problem solve that make living with him akin to living with a master criminal.

Friday's kitten-hood was spent at my parent's home. In those days, my younger sister's room was full of cat tantalizing objects. There was a semi-inflated helium balloon with a long string that dangled to the floor, a large bed with plenty of cat hiding places but best of all was her inflatable chair.

Yes, an inflatable chair. Possibly one of the dumbest inventions ever inflicted on society. The makers of inflatable chairs, being oblivious to tried and true methods of furniture making, offer a product that is a) unattractive in both color and style, b) uncomfortable to sit in and c) ridiculously overpriced. Despite these shortcomings my sister liked it. In fact, she liked it so much she bought an inflatable throw pillow to go with it.

The throw pillow, which matched neither chair nor room, was silver-gray. It had a big cut out circle in the center of it allowing a view to the innermost workings of inflatable throw pillows. To add some character, the manufacturers filled the center with little Styrofoam balls that when exposed to static electricity tended to wiggle as though alive. Friday can hardly be blamed for his abject fascination with the pillow. It's really no surprise that he pounced it, puncturing the cheap, I mean, fragile, plastic with his claws and sending the pillow to an early death and an ignominious trash can burial.

After the pillow casualty my sister began keeping her bedroom door closed. She forgave Friday the pillow, but she wasn't about to lose her chair. I, too, checked her door once she told me I'd be expected to replace the chair should my cat pop it. I thought the chair a waste of money on the best of days, but it was her money. I had no intention of spending my own money on a replacement.

But Friday is no ordinary cat. No mere bedroom door can stand in the way of his evil genius. We never were quite sure if he managed to open the door himself that day or if he had someone on the inside assist him (Dad?). Either way, my sister returned home to find her door open and her chair a sad puddle of green plastic in the corner.

“FRIDAY,” her fury was palpable. My blood ran cold as I thought of the money I was going to have to shell out for another plastic chair. “Friday,” she barely got his name his name out as she was overcome with laughter. I paused. This wasn't exactly the response I'd expected. I looked in the door. My sister stood holding the deflated chair laughing too hard to explain what was so funny. She held it under my nose. There on the back were three little plastic plugs over the air valves like you would find on a pool float. All three were unplugged. All three had cat teeth marks. Nowhere on the chair itself was there so much as a tear or puncture. Friday had simply unplugged the valves and let the air out of the chair.

How did he know deflating the chair would be such a great joke? Please, if you know the answer, don't tell me. I'd rather not know. That evil genius sleeps right next to my head too often for me to be comfortable with any answer to that question. To this day he gets very excited whenever my sister visits. He thinks of her as the “cool” aunt or maybe he just remembers that she was the victim of the best joke he's ever played – so far. There's always tomorrow...

cat cats cat humor cat comedy

7 Strange Things About Me

2007-07-20T08:47:00.000-04:00

Uh-ho! I got tagged by Miss T of prefurr.com. This is my first time being tagged as a blogger so I'm both flattered and excited and I want to do this well, but I confess it is difficult to limit it to only seven. I do my best to avoid the "norm" as often as possible. I could cheat and name each of my cats for three of my strange things but, I'm committed to doing this right, so here we go.

Seven Strange Things About Me
1) I lived in a van for a year and a half when I toured the US as an actress with a repertory theater company. While it was a chance to see the States I can't recommend it as a reliable means of income. There's really nothing quite like standing a grocery store with enough money for either shampoo or deodorant and needing both. Mom, thanks for that money you used to send. Any chance I could get some more...

2) I live in Georgia where everyone drinks sweet iced tea. I do too, but I prefer hot tea even in summer. In case you don't live any where near here I'll give you the general description of summer. It starts in April and ends in September. It's nothing for it to be in the upper 90's and the humidity so is high that breathing can be tricky. We're not slow in the south, we're just trying to slog through all the moisture.

3) I am southern but don't have a southern accent. I do really super impressions of it though. I also do a British accent (I've fooled my mother with it) and impression of friends. I'd be a hit at parties but not many people know the friends I do impressions of... I should find different friends.

4) I always take baths. Who needs a shower? I can't lounge in the shower and read a book so splish-splash it is for me.

5) I love to learn new things from friends and family. For example, my husband has taught me how to build my own computer, how to drive a stick, and how to play bass guitar. Some other things I've learned are: how to reupholster furniture, change spark plugs (thanks Dad), and simply and effectively clean a toothbrush but putting it in the dishwasher. I really wish I had a dishwasher.

6) The strangest most uncontrollable crap happens to me. Like the time I was pet sitting and the dog I was walking went after that cat, or the time Kit brought me a toy mouse that wasn't, and then there was the time the bird came down the chimney. I think I inherited this trait from my aunt. She once saw a big mangy dog walking down the street and stopped to pick it up only to realize it was someone's pet lion. She once rescued a bird with a broken wing and took it to the vet. When she got it home it was miraculously cured and flew around her house. She had to trap it in her washing machine. Stories like these make me feel better...

7) I cannot stand it when people are passive-aggressive. Just SAY it already! The world will keep spinning.

So, there you go. Seven strange things about me and barely a reference to my all-consuming passion for felines, but you guys know that one already!

The Laughing Cat Carnival

2007-07-12T17:12:00.000-04:00

Cats are funny! Sure they have a reputation for being classy, graceful creatures but anyone who's ever lived with one knows that's just a front. Cats have some of the best senses of humor around.

How to Hold a Cat Without Losing an Eye is proud to present the first edition of The Laughing Cat Carnival. I'm looking for the funniest cat stories and photos from the web.

To submit an article, email a link to howtoholdacat@yahoo.com or use the submission form at Blog Carnival. Submissions for this edition are due by 11 PM July 30th. Subsequent submissions are due by the last Monday of the month. Let me know if you'd like to host future editions!

What are you waiting for?! Hit me with your humor!

Confession Is Good for the Soul

2007-07-12T13:53:00.000-04:00

I have a confession to make. When I began How to Hold a Cat Without Losing an Eye I vowed only to tell true stories. Well, I have only told true stories but I did fib a bit in my post When Disaster Strikes Only the Strong Survive. In that post I described the death of my favorite vase (shaped like a cat) at the hands, err, paws of one of my actual cats, Kit. All that was true, where I fibbed was when I said I was successful in repairing the vase. The horrible truth is that not only were there crack lines and bits of glue on the vase, and not only was there a chunk of ear still missing, but a gigantic portion of the cat’s rear end was never successfully glued back in. See the evidence for yourself.

Why did I do it you might ask? Call it a mother’s love or a profound personality flaw, you pick. I simply could not admit that my adorable eight-pound tabby is a cold-blooded murderess. I mean, she’s simply too cute to be a killer! What jury could ever convict that face?

Besides, I’ve fixed the whole thing. No, not with superglue. I headed downtown to the district known as Artist’s Row. There’s a shop there stuffed full of these little cat vases. I had my pick. I strolled around the shop for 20 minutes trying to decide which vase was the “perfect” replacement. I settled on a color but still had to pick a size. I finally chose this little guy. If you look closely, you can see that he’s sticking his tongue out. I hope that defensive posture will warn Kit off the next time she considers hopping on the mantle.

Is it murder if I like the new one better than the old? Maybe it was a favor. Maybe, just to be safe, I’ll affix this cat to the mantle. I mean it never hurts to be prepared. You wouldn’t ride in a car without a seatbelt would you? Of course, you wouldn’t. No reason to be careless. Still, the cat vases are remarkably affordable for hand made, original pieces. Perhaps I liked the blue one more than the green after all. Maybe I’ll skip on the vase seatbelt. Sometimes change is nice!
cat cats cat humor cat comedy

Cats on Vacation

2007-07-03T09:24:00.000-04:00

Last week, I spent several days at the beach. It was wonderful. Endless hours of laying in a chair on the beach reading a book, laying in a chair by the pool reading a book and at night, laying in the hot tub reading a book. All my chores and cares were left far behind me and I could relax.

Obviously, I enjoyed my trip but while I was lounging in my comfy beach chair with my book I couldn’t help but think something was missing. I shrugged it off and rolled over to tan my back. Later, after returning to the condo and showering the sand and salt off, I was relaxing with a drink before going to dinner at one of a number of seafood restaurants. While sitting on the couch, enjoying said drink, glancing at the ballgame on TV and watching the cars on the bridge over the marsh, I imagined that I saw a small shadow in the corner of my eye but when I turned to look it was nothing. When I awoke the next morning, I wondered why I slept so well. It must have been those dark curtains over the window.

Then again, perhaps I slept so well because three cats were back at home and not in the small of my back. Could that strange shadow have been my subconscious looking for one of my cats? Was the nagging feeling that something was missing the result of my reading a book unmolested by fluffy paws and head butts? Yes! I was guilty! I missed my cats.

To ease my cat sickness, I tried to imagine what it would be like to take one of them with me. Hemmy would be the obvious candidate, as riding in the car doesn’t upset him too much. It would be so nice to have a cat there to greet me when I came back in from the beach. He’d be napping in the warm sunshine by the large sliding glass doors and would rise and stretch and yawn. I could just picture him there, blinking happily up at me. I smiled to myself as I imagined the scene.

Then my smile faded. What kind of havoc would he wreck on the condo? Sure, it would be nice having him there but that expensive Berber carpet? Ha! That would be scarred the first day. I could almost see little tufts of it gutted and laying next to the new bald spot. Those lovely wooden chairs? Delightful, vacation scratching posts! And the screened-in porch?! The cat roller coaster of the whole trip! He could dangle for hours from those screens. The large, white marsh birds would look especially delicious. Visions of him dangling at eye level chattering at the birds quickly assured me that taking Hemmy on vacation wouldn’t be terribly relaxing.

So, I plan my next trip and resign myself to spending a few more days away from the cats. After all, packing the litter box, food, bowls, and arranging the car for a four hour trip with a cat makes being apart from them a bit easier to swallow. Still, that patch of warm sunshine was designed for a cat…

cat cats cat humor cat comedy

Toy Mice are More Fun

2007-06-19T10:01:00.000-04:00

Kit, one of my three cats, is not often featured on my blog. That’s because she’s normal. Well, ok, she’s not normal but she’s more normal than the boys.

Her favorite toys have always been those little fur-covered mice. As a kitten she delighted in smacking them under the table, then darting in to “kill” them. To this day, they are her favorite. In the evenings, I fling toy mice down the hallway for hours so Kit can leap and run. The only problem with the mice is that Kit eats their tails. (See! She’s not so normal.) For years now, I’ve opened packages of toy mice and pulled countless tails off. I don’t really mind, though. They make her so happy.

One afternoon when I was still in college I was preparing to speak before one of my classes. I was sitting in the office floor surrounded by piles of papers. Kit strolled into the office with one of her new toy mice in her mouth. Thinking she wanted to play I started to shoo her off my papers when I realized that I’d missed pulling the tail off the mouse. As I began reaching for the mouse, something nagged at me. The package of mice had all sorts of colors: black, white, even purple, but I didn’t remember a brown one…

Kit dropped the mouse on my leg and it ran! I leapt up! I nearly pulled the tail off a real mouse! The mouse darted behind a speaker. Kit, interest renewed, followed after. I rubbed my head where I swear I had hit it on the ceiling. The ensuing commotion was like a beacon on a stormy shore to the other three pets. They were drawn to the office and the fray.The animals and I divided our efforts. They wanted to eat the mouse. I wanted to put it outside. Kit’s focus was so intent on the speakers that she did not see the mouse dart into the closet. She stayed by the speakers sniffing and pawing. By the power of her nose, the dog, Claire, knew that the mouse was in the closet. Hemmy, too, focused his attentions there. I began pulling junk, board games and schools supplies out of it wondering how on earth I’d find such a tiny animal amongst all the stuff. I made a note to myself to have a yard sale. Poor Friday wasn’t sure what was going on but he was eager to “help.” He prowled around on top of the computer desks presumably giving the aerial report to the pets below.

This is Chopper One; we see no sign of the mouse. I repeat we see no sign of the mouse.

We have a lot of stuff in that closet. I pulled item after item free shaking things a bit as I went listening for the sound of scratching or scampering. No mouse. Finally, all the contents of my closet were on the floor and the closet was inspected by me, Hemmy and Claire for possible mouse escape hatches. No such hatch existed and there was still no sign of the mouse. I knew he was hidden somewhere in all the stuff but was helpless to search anymore. It was time for class.

I felt bad for the mouse. No doubt, one of my slavering beasts would find him before I got home and then what would his fate be? I shuddered to think. I packed my supplies and tried to get my head back in order before my talk.

When I returned home there were all four pets in the exact position I had left them in. Kit was lying by the speakers keeping a casual eye on the gap at the back. Claire sniffed at the closet. Hemmy sat by the door watching sleepily and Friday was still on top of the computer desk. Presumably, no one found the mouse while I was at class.

No one ever did find him, either. Who knows what became of him. I like to think that in the dead of night he tippy-toed back out the way he came. Still, if you come to a yard sale at my house, you may want to thoroughly check the contents of the board game before you buy it. For all the pets and I know the mouse may never have left!cat cats cat humor cat comedy cat toys

Tummy Time!

2007-06-14T11:16:00.000-04:00

Here's my cute cat picture for the contest going on over at Kashim & Othello. Typically, I try to avoid telling my cats that they are cute. It goes to their heads. But this contest is for a good cause so I agreed to make an exception this time!

Anyway, this is Hemingway, Hemmy for short. Skills include, purring, licking and sleeping under the covers. Hobbies are eating and performing Broadway musicals.

A Bird in the Chimney is Worth Less Than Two Outside

2007-06-14T10:31:00.000-04:00

I live in an eighty-year-old house. It’s a cute cottage with a lot of personality. I had to have a house with personality, no boring old ranch for me. The trouble with personality is that it holds no allegiances. It’s cute, sure, but it’s cute on it’s own terms, homeowners notwithstanding.

Part of my house’s charm are the 3 original chimneys. Central heat and air were added about 5 years before we moved in so we rarely actually use them, but they make breathtaking candle holders and immediately draw your eye when you enter the room. We were delighted with them and in case we wanted to have a fire, we bought all the trimmings: a grate, tools and a freestanding screen. We were pleased with the results.

One lazy afternoon my husband and I were relaxing in our office when a sudden crash brought us to our feet. Fearing that a cat had finally knocked the aquarium off its stand I dashed to the living room, thinking that I could clean 30 gallons of water, rocks and assorted fish off the floor before my husband murdered a cat. He was right on my heels so I was going to have to work fast. We burst through the door and stopped. The fish tank sat benignly on its stand, water, rocks and assorted fish all in place. Then I noticed the fireplace screen was knocked over. The sound we heard was the sound of the screen hitting the hardwood floor. For an instant, we felt that we’d foolishly overreacted.

Then a dark shape swooped over my head. We’ve a lot of pets but none of them are capable of swooping. Cringing I looked up. A bird was frantically flapping around my living room. Three cats and one bird dog momentarily held their breath as though they couldn’t believe their luck. Brian and I momentarily held our breath wondering what to do. The stillness was shattered as everyone began moving at once. The cats went up every bit of furniture we own, eyeballs bugging. The dog bounced around frantically as only a Spaniel can do. Brian and I spread out wondering how any of us would catch the bird.

The frightened, disoriented bird flew towards the floor! Idiot! Hemmy seized his opportunity and leapt. With frightening accuracy, he snatched the bird from the air. Knowing the five of us were close behind him, he darted down the hallway with his catch, trying to elude us. Brian was close behind him. Visions of blood and feathers all over my house I dashed after Brian screaming for him to catch Hemmy. Friday, Kit and Claire followed me down the hallway and into the bedroom. Hemmy headed for the bed. Seeing the window of opportunity snapping shut, Brian fell to the floor, grabbed Hemmy by the tail and refused to let go.

Determined not to share his snack, Hemmy tried to pull free. Brian, with more resolve than I could have exhibited, held on tight. Pulling against Brian must have hurt Hemmy’s tail. He turned to bite Brian and opened his mouth. The bird burst from under the bed, flapping around the bedroom until it crash-landed in the basket of dog toys. Everything happened so fast. Somehow, I’d picked up a sheet. Realizing the sheet was in my hands, I tossed it to Brian who was closer to the basket. He dropped the sheet over the top trapping the bird inside.

The world suddenly seemed surreal. Was it really over? A sudden stillness descended over the house. We carried the basket outside.

“Is it alive?” I asked. Brian lifted the sheet and pulled the bird from the toys. Miraculously, we found no marks on its body, not even a ruffled feather. It sat in Brian’s hand stunned by the afternoon’s events. Suddenly, it spread its wings and took flight as though all was well.

How did the bird get in my living room you might ask? My charming fireplaces have no flues and allow birds free access to my home. Let this be a lesson to us all. A pretty face, or in this case fireplace, can hide nasty underlying flaws of character. Personality is truly a lady to be treated with caution!
cat cats cat humor cat comedy bird

Not All People Suck

2007-06-06T16:01:00.000-04:00

Just when you've had enough of the world and decided everyone you've ever known doesn't get you and you must be the sole decent person on the planet, you come across a story like this: Brothers Answer Kittens' Cries for Help.

Josh Poltilove of the Tampa Tribune tells us of two teenagers, Michael and Christopher, who worked diligently to help two kittens trapped and hungry in a storm drain. Though both the local animal services and utilities departments tried to reach the kittens both failed. It was the work of the boys who finally freed them and ended their suffering.

Makes me glad to know there are people like Michael and Christopher. Regular readers of my blog know I've had my own cat/storm drain experience. I shudder to remember it.

Want to do something cool to say thanks to Michael and Christopher? Make a donation to your local Humane Society in their names. After all, spay/neutering programs help keep kittens out of storm drains in the first place!
cat cats cat humor cat comedy kittens

Gack! Hairballs!

2007-06-06T10:33:00.001-04:00

I’ve a friend, Lisa, who loves to pretend that she hates her cat. She knows that myself and another friend, Amye, are big cat lovers. Lisa does not hate her cat. She does love trying to get a response out of Amye and I by telling us outlandish stories about how bad her cat is.

We were spending time together recently when Lisa announced (for the 400th time) that she wanted to “get rid” of her cat. Amye and I laughed as we know the game:
“What’s he doing now?” Amye asked.
“He’s throwing up everywhere!” Lisa exclaimed.
“Wait,” I said. The cat usually is just playful and silly. I was momentarily caught off guard by a health related problem. Throwing up could be something serious. “Is he throwing up or regurgitating?”
“Both.” She relented a bit then exclaimed, “The other morning he threw up something that looked like a furry tampon!”

Amye and I laughed in sympathy and told her that tampons coming out of cats are actually hairballs. Which made me begin thinking about all the things I do to prevent them. It seems like anytime the cats have one they leave it somewhere where I’ll step on it while going to the bathroom in the middle of the night. GROSS!!!!!!!

If your cat is gacking up hairballs it’s time to refine your anti-hairball arsenal. Things such as the food you feed, the water intake your cat has and even a hairbrush can make a big difference in the war on squishy, nasty hairballs.

Hairball food: This is typically cat food with extra fiber. The fiber helps your cat pass their stool more easily. Stool is the general way cats eliminate digested hair from their bodies. However, some raise questions about the wisdom of pumping your cat full of fiber and suggest that companies who manufacture hairball food have not yet done enough long term studies on its effectiveness and potential side effects.

Hairball Remedies: These are gels that you squirt out of a tube. Typically they are flavored to be appealing to the cat. We’ve one flavor that we call “Kitten Candy” in my house. It seems we just can’t get it out of the tube fast enough for Friday! Like the fiber, they help your cat pass hair in the digestive system before it can form into a hairball.

Water: Who’d have thought that the most basic need for cats and people could help with hairballs. Doctors Foster and Smith point out that water aids in digestion. Cats are very picky about water so watch your cat. If he’s drinking out of your glass or the sink he may not like the water in his bowl. If so he may not be drinking enough. Generally, cat water fountains increase water intake as cats prefer fresh water.

Grooming: Cats lick themselves to get clean and consequently ingest large amounts of hair. To help keep hair out of your cat’s tummy in the first place, brush them! Any kind of brush will do but a shedding blade like the Furminator works great for removing quantities of hair from your cat. Just remember to follow the directions closely as shedding blades can cause skin irritation if used improperly.
cat cats cat humor cat comedy hairballs

It's all fun and games 'till someone loses an eye!

2007-06-04T11:27:00.000-04:00

I’ve written about Friday many times. He seems to have an uncanny knack for landing himself in all sorts of trouble, like how he begs my husband for food or the way he used to wake me up before the sun, and no one can forget the time he got his head stuck between a chair and the table. Despite story after story about his antics, I’ve still another one to relate.

Back in my college days, I lived with Mom and Dad. They’ve a mother-in-law suite and I was lucky enough to call it home for a couple of years. It was so nice. I had my bed, a piano, an entertainment center, a large book shelf, a sofa and a computer desk all in the same room with room to spare. Friday had his own little corner where I kept an assortment of toys. One is a sort of round plastic disk with a mouse inside that spins around on an arm. He thought that was cool because a well-placed smack could send the mouse into a rapid spin! He loved to poke the mouse and watch it spin around and often became very excited smacking and pouncing it.

It was a lazy Friday afternoon and I was home from my day’s classes with nothing to do but enjoy life. My sister and I were chatting about our plans for the weekend when Friday strolled benignly toward his toy corner mouse to give it a slap. We watched, amused, but soon turned our attention back to our conversation.

Friday became absorbed in the mouse. The more he slapped it the more fun he had. He flopped on his side and went after the mouse with vigor. Suddenly, he screamed! Growling and hissing he leapt away from the corner! I jumped from the couch to see what was wrong. Friday was in the center of the room yowling, livid with anger. The circle with the mouse inside had followed him from the corner. His paw was stuck!

He was so angry I had to pin him to the floor to see what was wrong and how I could free him. Squirming as only a cat of my acquaintance can, I was forced to pin him in between my knees and hold his front paws down. The bottom of the circle is dark black, so is Friday. I could tell his claw was stuck to the bottom of the mouse but I couldn’t see enough to free him. I could tell that he wasn’t physically hurt. He was furious! The nerve of that mouse! It had dared to attack him!

I relayed the information to my sister who looked on with concern. We couldn’t help ourselves. We burst into laughter. Only Friday could manage such a feat. Giggling, she headed to the garage to find a flashlight so I could better see his paw. We were still laughing when she returned. It was so bad I had to just hold the still squirming, cursing cat to the floor until I stopped shaking enough to see. A gentle twist and pull and his claw was free.

Fuming, Friday stalked off to groom his tail. My sister and I practically clung to each other helpless with laughter. To this day, roughly five years later, Friday avoids the spinning mouse and occasionally shoots it nasty looks. I doubt he’ll ever forgive the mouse for embarrassing him. My only regret is that we didn’t have a video camera on hand to share the giggles with the rest of you!
cat cats cat humor cat comedy cat toys

Why I Need a Vacation From Vacation

2007-05-29T12:21:00.001-04:00

Friday has a nasty habit. He hates company. Anytime someone comes over he growls, hisses and once he even attacked my brother-in-law. Though you may come visit every day, he will not like you. He would faint dead away if a hamster attacked him but let a 200lb, 6’5” human male come in the door and he’ll square off and show fangs. Charming. Simply charming.

Thankfully, he’s not putting as much effort into his company-hatred as of late. Yet, his newfound ambivalent attitude did little to ease my mind while I was preparing for my recent vacation. Vacation means that “company” has to come into the house. He doesn’t care if they’re there to feed him. He can’t be made to like anyone. I worried that he would be uncooperative at best and lethal at worst.

Because our dog can be aggressive, we keep the cats separated when we’re not home. That alone doesn’t present much of a problem as Friday doesn’t mind being “wrangled” into the bedroom but he eats in the bathroom which is not connected to the bedroom. It’s an old house. I knew that twice a day Friday would have to be steered from bedroom to bathroom and back to bedroom. Two years ago, he spent my vacation shut in the bathroom, as he refused to come out and threatened to bleed the woman who was watching him. She put a litter box in the tub and a water bowl out for him and called it good. Naturally, he scattered litter everywhere and I was determined that he would cooperate this year.

I racked my brain. His sitter needed a way to move him without having to pick him up or on a bad day without even touching him! I finally struck on it! Tuna! Friday would follow Satan himself to the gates of hell at the mere promise of tuna. Feeling smart, I bought a couple cans and left the sitter a can opener and several little plastic bowls. Sure enough, one morning after breakfast, Friday decided wanted to sit in the dining room and watch the birds through the window. He promised to stay put for hours. But with a flick of the can opener he was front and center and not only was he willing to go back to the bedroom but he led the way!

Knowing I’ve figured out the trick to buying Friday’s cooperation for anyone, company included, makes me feel much better about my future travel. Since I spent so much time and energy prepping for a sitter I decided to offer you a list of tips from me, a professional pet sitter with nearly ten years of experience taking care of everything from hamsters to horses. Hopefully, your cats are better behaved than mine and you won’t have to go to tuna lengths!

When using a pet sitter be prepared:
Clean it up: Don’t leave a mess in litter boxes that calls for a back hoe to clean it out. Change it and leave fresh litter for your sitter. Likewise, wash water and food bowls before you leave. Your pets don’t like nasty dishes any more than you do and a good sitter will wash the bowls again before you come home.

Get organized: Sitters have limited time. Time spent looking for the cat food is time that could be spent socializing with your cats. Clearly describe where food is stored. If it’s stored at the back of the pantry slide it to the front for your trip. The same goes for litter scoops (you wouldn’t believe how many hours of my life are spent looking for these jewels. Where do you people put them?!) brushes, treats, can openers, medications or anything else you would like your sitter to use for your pets while you’re gone.

Medical info: If your pet is on medications, be sure to tell your sitter. Leave medicine where the sitter can find it but somewhere safe where your pet cannot chew into the container and accidentally overdose. If you hide the meds in treats or food leave everything your sitter could possibly need to get the pill from the packaging to your pet including: scissors, spoons, paper towels, etc.
cat cats cat humor cat comedy pet sitter

One More Web Link

2007-05-24T09:41:00.000-04:00

Being a blond I sometimes miss the obvious. Ok, being blond probably isn't really an excuse for that but I'm running with it anyway.

On Tuesday, I published a list of cat friendly web sites and I left off the cat site I visit most often (besides this one.) TheCatSite.com is a fount of kitty info. My favorite section is the forum page where you can delve into an assortment of cat questions. I love reading about other people's problem cats. It makes me feel like Friday might not be so strange after all!

Check it out, ask cat questions maybe even answer a few. Just remember that no advice there, or here for that matter, can take the place of a vet's advice. That person with the screen name howtoholdacat? Yep, that's me! I hope to see you there.

Why Your Head Does Not a Cat Pillow Make

2007-05-22T12:47:00.000-04:00

In case you never noticed, cats like a warm place to nap. They’re often spotted napping in a patch of sunlight or sleeping on top of laundry fresh from the dryer. Ordinarily, this is considered cute behavior and the Web is flooded with adorable pictures of cats sleeping in funny poses. However, it’s not so cute when at 2 A.M. your cat decides your head is the warmest place. How do you keep them off your face so you can get your beauty rest?

I’ve written before about Friday’s nighttime habits, but that was limited to play at night and did not discuss how I got him to be a good bed buddy. Once he decided that sleep was cool he began to sleep with me. On my head. We’d overcome his need to play at 4 A.M. but we hadn’t yet found a sleep pattern where I actually got to sleep. He literally would lie down on top of my head. It isn’t as cute as it sounds, trust me. If it wasn’t my head it was my rib cage which he would plaster himself to with amazing staying power. To get him off of me I had to wake and physically move him which really ruins a good night’s sleep.

After some trial and error, I learned a move which I call the Kitty Spatula that went a long way to keeping Friday off of me at night. I let Friday snuggle up wherever he wants when he first gets in bed: head, side, whatever. Then I read for about 20 minutes. While I’m reading, Friday begins to get sleepy. Once he’s good and soggy I slide one hand under his shoulders and the other under his hips and deposit him at the foot of the bed. If he’s sleepy enough and if I’ve moved him smoothly enough he’ll sleep there for the rest of the night. This arrangement works out very well as I read every night anyway.

Perhaps you’re not into reading (why are you here then?) or perhaps my method simply doesn’t work on your particular cat (I understand I’m wrong from time to time). The key to finding a solution you can live and sleep with is to create a sleeping environment for your cat that is more desirable than the one he created.

Try giving your cat his own bed. You can make one out of anything soft such as old towels or blankets or you can buy one such as this. Cats also like to lie on paper. Try putting out a few newspapers (in another room so you don’t hear crinkling) or if you don’t want newsprint on your hands a magazine or some scrap paper. Anything will do so long as your cat won’t shred it which is counterproductive since shredding paper is loud and will also wake you.

Remember cats like it warm, especially in winter. A favorite product is this heated cat bed. A sensor turns on a small heating unit when the cat puts weight in the bed. There are several varieties to choose from so you can find one to fit your cat’s needs. Just don’t try to substitute with a heating pad. These beds only come on when the cat is in them and a heating pad left on all the time is a fire hazard.

Finally, when you make a new bed for your cat sprinkle it with a bit of catnip. This will draw their interest and after 20 minutes of catnip, cats often become sleepy. Oh, look, there’s a new cool bed for them right there…

Good luck and remember cats are individuals so a bit of testing will be necessary to find the right solution for your furry friend.
cat cats cat humor cat comedy cat beds

The Cat Friendly World Wide Web

2007-05-22T09:35:00.000-04:00

The web is full of useless information. Occasionally, you run across a site that just happens to be funny or not quite as useless as others. Here are a few not so useless cat related sites that I dug up for you my devoted reader.

Weekend Warriors!
Summer is on the way (or if you live in the south like I do it's already here) and now is the time for Do-It-Yourself projects. Who says all your hard work has to be wasted on something that benefits you? Isn't it time you did something for your cat? Here are a few ideas from truly dedicated cat owners.

Build Your Own Cat Tree
Hey, cat trees are expensive. After all that top quality food you buy for your cats who has money left over for trees? I know my cats eat better than I do (Spaghetti O's are less than a buck a can) but is that enough for them? Heck no! They want to be able to climb to the ceiling and kamikaze each other from new heights.

If you want a tree for your kitties but don't want to take out a home equity loan to do it, check out PandEcats.com. Their step by step instructions will have your cat napping feet about your sofa in no time!

Build an Outdoor Enclosure
When fake trees aren't good enough, build this nifty enclosure so your kitty can enjoy the great outdoors (real trees and all) without the worry of predators, catnappers, automobiles and cooties (*actual enclosure does not prevent cooties.)

Mary Anne Miller of The CatSite.com will show you how to set up this outdoor enclosure for your cats. All you need are some 2x4's, chicken wire and, of course, cats. The site has great photos of their version but altering the enclosure to suit your (I mean your cat's) needs would be quite simple.

For the Non-Hammer Savvy
Not into tools? No problem! Cat Wallks has the coolest cat furniture around. It's a cat tree that hangs right on the wall. Customize it to suit your needs. Talk about a conversation piece. Cat Wallks lets your cats be your decor. No dusting needed! Framed art will be so passe after you install these kitty toys!

For the Broke and Lazy
Who says the internet has to be about work and spending money? Why not use it for it's original intent? Goofing off! For an overdose of adorable visit KittenWar.com where two cat pictures are pitted against one another in a battle to be the most cute. Vote on your favorite. Picture after picture brings you snuggly cuteness versus even more snuggly cuteness. It's engrossing so be ready to explain to your boss why that project you're "working on" is still in a pile on the corner of your desk before you click this link!

You've seen it here before and you'll probably see it here again. Stuff On My Cat is a fantastic web site where you can see what happens when good cat owners get bored. People submit picture of stuff they put on their cats. You'll see everything from pinatas to laundry baskets on top of these cats. The site is well organized and you can search the images categorically. It's a must see and a personal favorite.

The Internet Has Helpful Information?
A little known truth I recently uncovered is that there are some web sites dedicated to the betterment of the world. Two cat related sites are Animal Hubbub and Feral Cat Behavior.

Animal Hubbub is a slick site that discusses all things animals. Their For Felines Only page answers cat related questions (which you don't need because you already know the answers from reading my blog), discusses cat issues and features a plethora of cute cat pictures.

Feral Cat Behavior is a blog about one family's devotion to homeless and abandoned cats. Whether you have feral cats or not, learning about them can offer tremendous insight into cat behavior. If your cat is behaving strangely check out this blog (after you've read mine of course!) you might find the answers you're looking for.
cat cats cat humor cat comedy cat websites

Tortoise Attack!

2007-05-18T10:01:00.000-04:00

While Stumbling around the web, I came across this video. I didn't believe the caption but watched it anyway. I wonder if a tortoise could whip my cats into shape. Somehow I think any tortoise coming in this house would need 2 shells!
cat cats cat humor cat comedy tortoise attack

Can't We All Just Get Along?

2007-05-16T10:58:00.000-04:00

One amazing cat is leading her own peace rally! Ok, maybe not quite a peace rally, but this kitty sure knows how to spread the love. Despite raising three kittens of her own, this mommy cat eagerly adopted seven chicks who's own mother died. They're just one big happy family!

I don't doubt that my own three cats would also be happy to adopt the chicks, but I'm certain that's not a picture I could post on the internet. The only similarity between the pictures would be the look of bliss on the adult cat's face. For the sake of the chicks I'm glad that cat found them!
cat cats cat humor cat comedy mommy cat

Can Anyone Recommend a Good Therapist?

2007-05-15T09:39:00.000-04:00

There’s something wrong with Hemmy. He likes to play with catnip, he likes to play with cat toys, but his favorite game in the world is dog hunting. I first noticed this strange behavior when, as a stray, he arrived on my deck years ago. He lived outside until we were sure we could not find his previous owner and had him checked for illness. During this time, he spent much of his day sunning on the deck in the back yard.

One day while he was sunning his big brown belly, a Labrador retriever strolled through the back corner of the yard. Hemmy sat up and stared. Most cats on seeing a large dog freeze and hide or if unnoticed slink off somewhere safer. Not my Hemmy! A strange look came over his face, it was the sort of the look Bugs Bunny gives the camera when he’s about to play a trick on Elmer Fudd. Almost gleefully, Hemmy jumped up, darted down the steps and strode purposefully across the yard toward the dog. Luckily, it’s a very big yard backed with woods and Hemmy never caught him. Who knows what scars that poor dog may still have if he had!

This strange trend manifests itself at the vet’s office as well. Hemmy doesn’t mind going to the vet. Even after countless trips and major surgery, he is ambivalent about the experience. He does object, however, to being in the carrier. He objects very, very loudly, so contrary to my own rule I usually take him out and let him sit in my lap in the waiting room. Unlike the other cats in laps, he sits up tall and looks around with interest. He scans the dogs with that twinkly look in his eye. He usually locks in on the largest dog present and stares him down dying to get away from me to pick a fight.

What can I say? My cat is a man. He lives to have a good fight. When stray cats fight outside Friday and Kit are visibly upset. Hemmy dashes over (inside the house, of course) and vows to fight the winner. In supervised trips to the backyard, he picks fights with the neighbor’s dog through the fence. Hemmy slaps him and the dog runs in circles.

It’s not that Hemmy has a personal dislike for any of the animals he fights (or tries to fight) with. In fact he usually likes them. He and the neighbor’s dog are great friends. He just loves to roughhouse. If he were a person, he would make a great hockey player.

But there’s a secret he doesn’t want told. He’s really a softy on the inside! He is the best snuggler in the house. When he turns on the cuddle he just can’t get close enough to you and his purr is rich and warm. When he nestles up next to me on the couch I forget all about my stress and know that I have the best cat in the world, even if he does cause my heart to stop when he rushes toward danger!

cat cats cat humor cat comedy

A New and Hideous Terror

2007-05-14T12:09:00.000-04:00

A new and hideous terror entered my house Saturday. It was a peaceful spring morning. The cats lounged on various bits of household furniture languidly observing the birds that had gathered to splash in the water from the sprinkler. The dog quietly chewed a bone in the floor and I took my time rising and facing the day. Then IT happened. My sister pulled her SUV into the driveway and deposited her four-month-old daughter on my couch. The stillness was shattered like a baseball crashing through a window.

The only children in my house are the kind with four legs. The cats were mortified that I would allow such a smelly, noisy little thing into their house! Kit headed for her sanctuary under the bed. She wasn’t responsible for the disruption and she didn’t think she should be subjected to such horror. That thing on the couch was my problem. Hemmy couldn’t decide how to feel. He’d had breakfast and couldn’t see how the baby could interfere with that. He could have lived without the noise, though. He removed himself to the cat room at the back of the house and settled for watching the birds at the bird feeder. Friday, our customs inspector, began sniffing everything. There were plenty of items for him to cover: diaper bags, swings, car seats, the baby herself. It was as if Babies-R-Us had erupted in my living room – and my kitchen, dining room, office, etc. Friday didn’t really like the baby but he’s imperturbable regarding loud noises so he settled down in the corner to see if anything interesting developed.

Naturally, the screaming began 15 minutes after my sister left. I heated a bottle in the microwave all the time being harangued by my dog, Claire. Claire, who to date has tried to maul two children and hated her own puppies, suddenly decided motherhood becomes her. She moved back and forth between me and my niece, watching the baby soulfully and shooting scornful looks at me for not feeding the baby faster. She guarded the baby all day and would not let her out of her sight. Considering the look of extreme interest on Friday’s face, I decided a back up in baby guarding might not be such a bad thing.

Finally, the baby was fed, changed and sleeping soundly on a pallet in the corner of my dining room while I worked on a painting. Kit, drawn by a morbid curiosity decided to investigate. She tip-toed into the room and was past me before I was even aware of her. Slowly, as though stalking prey that might turn around and eat her, she crept toward the baby. She stretched her neck out as far as it would go, loath to get closer than necessary. With the tip of her nose, she leaned in and sniffed the baby’s foot. She recoiled in disgust and looked at me like I was crazy for bringing that nasty little animal into the house. Disdainfully, she sassed out of the room, presumably to groom any baby-scent off her pristine gray and white coat. Children, she no doubt thought, are better outdoor pets.

Hemmy, too, gave the baby a sniff. Once he’s finished digesting he becomes much more animated and can easily be persuaded to try new things. Still a bit on the fence, he approached the baby with his ears cocked to the sides in uncertainty. He sniffed the baby’s foot and she kicked him in the face. He jumped back confused and offended and shot her a nasty look. He decided babies aren’t for him.

Lucky thing for the cats that we don’t have a baby of our own. Kit and Hemmy would buy bus tickets and there’s absolutely no telling what evil scheme Friday would devise. The good news is the dog would be happy. She’s the only one though. My cats are happiest being the babies in this house!
cat cats cat humor cat comedy cats and children

When Disaster Strikes Only the Strong Survive

2007-05-09T08:17:00.000-04:00

It’s a sad day here at How to Hold a Cat Without Losing an Eye. Yesterday afternoon, tragedy struck our household. While working here in my office I heard a loud crash come from somewhere in the house. I just happened to be on the phone with my husband at the time. Together, (sort of) we explored the house to find the source of the disaster. I found Kit in the living room. Her shorthaired tail was fluffed out fluffier than a feather boa. Several picture frames that I keep on the mantle were scattered across the floor. Amidst the frames lay my favorite vase shattered into a thousand (ok, it was more like thirty) pieces.

“Nooooooooooooooooooooo,” I wailed! I loved that vase! It was a wedding gift from a friend and it was so cute! It was made in the shape of a cat and it’s two ears open up to hold flowers. Adorable isn’t a strong enough word to describe it. It was one of my favorite pieces.

Kit knowing she’s not allowed on the mantle darted for the bedroom. My husband hung up the phone to let me face my grief in silence. Friday, unable to resist disasters, strolled over to inspect the ceramic carcass. I shooed him away and began cleaning up the scene of the disaster. Kit commits murder thoroughly. The pieces were scattered about the living room, fragments were found in the fireplace (was she planning to destroy the evidence?!) some of them smaller than my fingertip. It looked like a trashcan burial was soon to follow. Still, a nagging thought persisted. Ceramic glues back together almost seamlessly, but do I have the skills? Archaeologists glue thousand year old ceramics back together all the time, I reflected. Suddenly confident I collected the pieces with renewed vigor.

I rushed them to the ER, my computer desk, and began surgery prep. Superglue? Check! Paper towels? Check! Anything else? No! I was ready. I began the operation. Progress was slow and painful. It seemed like half the cat was missing. For hours, I toiled over my patient, winning small victories and suffering crushing setbacks. After hours of diligent labor, I sat back from my work and wiped my brow. The cat would live. It would look like a ridiculous parody of Quasimodo and the dry flowers I keep in it will forever have to hide the missing piece of its ear but my favorite vase is back home recovering.

I’m holding up ok. It was a near disaster but knowing my vase is counting on me helps me face each new day with determination to overcome crack lines and those little bits of superglue that I didn’t quite get off.

Now that the vase is on it’s way to recovery I have a few moments to consider Kit’s actions. Why would she commit such a heinous act? What does she have against that vase? Is she threatened by it’s cuteness? Does she want flowers stuck in her ears? These are just some of the questions we hope will be answered in the upcoming trial.

It’s hard for a mother to see her two children squabble like that. As a form of therapy, I’ve decided to visit the local art studio where my vase was born. Nothing’s certain but I might just buy another one to replace my Quasimodo vase. By the way, does anyone know a good way to get super glue off your fingers?
cat cats cat humor cat comedy

For the exciting conclusion to this story, tune in to, I mean link over to Confession is Good for the Soul!

Make the Punishment Fit the Crime

2007-05-08T12:28:00.000-04:00

Friday has a knack for getting into trouble. Like cats avoid water it comes naturally to him. Yell, throw things, squirt him he’s imperturbable. When caught on the dining room table he blinks happily at me even though he knows that tables are off limits. He just doesn’t mind being fussed at. His cavalier attitude is what prompted Mom to pull the nastiest trick that has ever been played on him or any cat.

When Friday was a young cat, we lived at my parents. I was a college student and Mom and Dad were generous enough to let Friday and I move in so I could study. Friday spent his time tormenting my grandmother’s crotchety old cat and learning to open doors. He was constantly in trouble with Dad for opening the doors to Dad’s home office while Dad was on the phone with customers.

One of his favorite times was dinner. Mom usually cooked dinner and it was always yummy. Friday would “help” her cook by lying in the kitchen floor and scavenging for tid-bits that Mom was glad to slip him. We would sit around the table together and eat. Friday even had his own chair, pulled out from the table of course. He liked that chair because he could see what we were eating. He was allowed to get in any other empty chair but he was not allowed to put his head at table level. He remembered the rule occasionally but more often than not, a pair of black ears would slowly rise from the underbelly of the table only to disappear again when someone discouraged their progress.

It was on one of these occasions that Mom made Friday the maddest he has ever been. He was in the chair next to her and the smell of chicken proved too much. I saw his ears raising and started to correct him but Mom stopped me. She let him put his head at table level! He was thrilled and began to get a particularly smug look on his face as he sat surveying the contents of the table. Busy being full of himself he didn’t notice Mom slowly sliding his chair flush to the table. The curved back of the chair and the straight edge of the table meant that he wouldn’t be able to put his head down. He was stuck.

Mom tickled his back paw. He turned to “get” her back and sudden realization took over. He wriggled and squirmed bumping the chair slightly and freeing himself. We laughed at the look of sheer anger on his face when he realized he had been tricked. He was so mad at us! He stalked down the hallway and plotted his revenge. He wouldn’t talk to either one of us for the rest of the evening.

Mean? You bet it was mean, but Friday’s no fool. He never, ever stuck his head up to the table again. Not so long as Mom was in the chair next to him, anyway! He might not mind fussing but he hates to be laughed at!

cat cats cat humor cat comedy

Adding a New Cat to Your Home Doesn't Mean Someone Will Bleed

2007-05-07T11:22:00.000-04:00

A question that I often see on the Internet is what are the steps to introduce a new cat into a household. This is a great question because cats are typically solitary animals and the addition of a new cat can cause stress and possibly some bad behavior. However, I’ve also noticed that it seems to cause much more stress to the humans involved than it does to the felines!

First, be certain that another cat is a good idea. For some tips and suggestions see my article Cat Math: Does adding one more cat cause four times the havoc?

Once you’ve decided that another cat is right for you arm yourself with information! For a great article about what to expect when you add a new cat to your house see Introducing Pets to a New Cat at the Humane Society of the United States.

When you add your new cat, remember that it is very important for you to stay calm. No sense in creating more stress! Also, keep in mind that cats know what steps to take to meet a new cat. They really can in many cases sort it out for themselves so don’t be afraid to let them interact while you watch quietly near by. Step in only if there is significant reaction. Ignore hissing and growling that’s just part of the process and it does not hurt either cat, unless someone has really bad breath!

If you feel you need heavy artillery to ease your new cat into your home, pick up some Feliway. This nifty product plugs into an outlet and releases cat pheromones into your house. This will help your cats feel calm and cool no drugs needed!

Finally, enjoy watching your kitties get to know each other and discover the games they’ll play together. Two cats are so much fun you might even cancel your cable!
cat cats cat humor cat comedy new cat

Barn Cat Spanky

2007-05-04T11:14:00.000-04:00

Spanky is a muted calico who lives at the barn where my friends and I ride horses. Like some rare and blessed people, she has found her life’s calling. You might think that a cat who lives at a barn would find their calling hunting mice. That’s probably true of many cats, but not Spanky. Spanky is the official barn greeter.

Our barn is an active one. Kids come and go by the SUV full to take riding lessons and learn about horse care. Not all of the kids who come to the stable ride horses. Many are the younger siblings of riders and are too short to sit a horse on their own. While their older sisters learn to walk and trot the young children are entertained by Spanky.

Fearless, Spanky allows the kids to pet her and tote her around the barn. She could easily get away from them. The rafters are high and easy for any cat to climb but Spanky benignly allows her back paws to drag the ground as a too short child holds her under her front legs and carries her through the aisle. I love watching her with the kids. Just when I think some child has finally carried her as far as she will go, Spanky lets her pick her up yet again. Unflappable she purrs at the kids, never a tooth or claw to be seen.

It’s not just kids, Spanky loves everyone. She greets all visitors with proper Southern politeness. Whether they’re a “cat person” or not matters not to her. In fact, her gentle spirit and affectionate purrs have convinced more than one person that they might like cats after all!

Some might say it’s too bad that such a loving cat doesn’t have a house of her own. House or no, Spanky has a home at our farm. Those who know her know that one house just couldn’t hold enough people for her to love. The barn is where she belongs, loving each of us as we come. The more people the more love Spanky seems to exude.
cat cats cat humor cat comedy barn cat

Barn Kitty Boo!

2007-05-03T10:28:00.001-04:00

Autumn glided in with lady-like grace that year. The trees blushed at her coming. The dirt road wandered away from the busy city and lead it’s travelers into the cool, quiet of the countryside. The still-green fields were speckled with the browns and grays of horses who munched on the last of the summer grass.

The silence was broken by a golf cart careening down the dirt road kicking up the red dust that makes up all Southern dirt roads. Too young to drive a real car and too old to sit at home my friends and I headed to our favorite teenage hangout: the barn. From Jessica’s house, it was a short trip by golf cart to the stables where we took riding lessons and kept our horses. The weather promised to be beautiful and we had the whole Saturday to spend riding, grooming and visiting with our four legged friends.

Despite my best efforts, I drew the back seat for that trip, boring because it was too hard to talk to the girls up front. I stared backwards contemplating the view and enjoying the fresh weather. Suddenly, from the side of the road a tiny gray kitten darted from the grass and chased after the golf cart mewing and running his hardest.

“Stop!” I shouted to the girls up front. We collected the little guy from the road. He purred when I picked him up. Thinking him lost, we began knocking on doors. There were only a few to check at. No one was missing a kitten. He was so tiny and hungry. He must have been without a home for some time. With no other ideas, we took him to the barn.

He was a beautiful cat. He was white with large gray patches and a little white spot right next to his nose. His eyes were startling green. His looks were only the beginning of his charm. He loved people! His efforts to locate much needed food that afternoon were distracted by our presence. We were captivated.

After some discussion, we decided to go back to Jessica’s. There was no cat food at the barn (Miss Kitty had moved to the house by this time) and the kitten was too hungry to delay. Jessica had two cats and plenty of food to share. We set him in a large bucket with a bed of hay and retraced our steps.

Jessica’s large, adult cats threatened the kitten’s life. Nicki’s family lived in a place that did not permit pets. The kitten came to my house. I was thrilled! He was a ball of fun. After a few days of food and water he began to feel great. He played hide and go seek with my sister and I. I would tip toe through the kitchen and into to dining room to surprise him but he’d sneak up behind me and pounce me first! We named him Boo because he was always jumping out at us.

To my deep regret, I wasn’t allowed to keep him. Mom was sympathetic to my cause but as good parents do, she backed my father. She loved Boo too so she made certain that he went to a loving home. We were sad to see him go but as things do it worked out for the best. My grandmother moved in with us just a few short years later and brought her cat, Snowball.

Though Boo’s involvement in my life was brief, I’ll never forget the day he dashed desperately after the only humans he could find, three girls on a golf cart. Humans are not the only the only creatures with character. Boo’s determination to survive lead him to a happy, healthy home of his own. We can learn so much from animals if we take the time to listen. Boo taught me never to give up. I still chase my dreams, even if my legs are too short to catch them.
cat cat humor barn cat

Barn Kitty Miss Kitty

2007-05-01T11:58:00.000-04:00

Miss Kitty lived at the barn where I took riding lessons. She was dainty and lady-like. A small muted calico, she was far more interested in being a house kitty than a barn kitty. It seemed that there were several “liabilities” at the barn that prevented her from fully appreciating an outdoor life. Three dogs hung around the barn and she didn’t like smelling them. Furthermore, horses, in her opinion, were large and attracted flies.

She was supposed to control the mouse population. Ha! She didn’t eat mice; she ate crunchies. Mice were for cats who didn’t live in houses. She didn’t live in a house except for those times when she darted past my riding instructor’s feet through the door. She was extremely annoyed when caught and put outside. After about a year of this, my instructor surrendered and Miss Kitty became Miss House Kitty after all.

This left the mouse population unchecked. My instructor fearless of horses, dogs and even big, black furry spiders was DEATHLY afraid of mice. The mice would become trapped in the grain bin when the grain level was low and could not jump back out. With girlish nerves, my instructor would scoop them up in a feed scoop, leap back, and squeal as she tried to fling the mice free of the feed bin. Concerned for the well-being of the mice I volunteered to scoop them out. And so we went day to day feeding mice and delivering them safely to the floor of the feed room. Compassion outweighed common sense.

In the end, Miss Kitty taught me an important lesson. You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink. You can give a cat a mouse but you can’t make her pounce!
cat cat humor barn cat

Barn Kitty Ted

2007-04-30T10:56:00.000-04:00

Ted was a strange name for a cat. Then again, Ted was a strange cat. He was huge and relatively shapeless. I mean you could tell he was a cat. He did have whiskers and a tail after all, but his mid-section was large, soft, and puddled into a big gray blob when he laid down. He laid down a lot. But what made him strange wasn’t his shape, it was his unbelievably outgoing personality and his panache for golf carts.

Ted came to live at a private farm where I kept my horse Cairo. He was an instant hit with people and horses alike. He was friendly and good-natured and took an immediate interest in the workings of a horse farm. He was particularly intrigued by the feeding process. You might assume from the comments regarding his girth that he helped the horses eat their meals. Not so, cats have no taste for grain, sweetened or otherwise. No, his focus was on our movements around the farm as we delivered horse feed to each paddock and pasture.

When feeding horses there is often a lot of ground to cover. Carrying feed to even a few horses can be very time consuming and heavy so we kept a golf cart onto which we would load the horse feed and drive the food, rather than walk it, to the horses. Ted was fond of the golf cart. Each evening I would collect the cart, drive to the feed room, and begin scooping the feed into buckets. As I prepared the food Ted would arrive and make himself comfortable on the front passenger seat. He’d lay there supervising as I drove around the farm feeding the horses and wouldn’t get up until all the work was done. He had a keen sense of responsibility.

One night, I had prepared all the buckets and was ready to begin delivering the feed but Ted wasn’t on the golf cart. I called for him but after several minutes with no Ted, I set out for the farthest pasture to feed Huck and Flash. As I was feeding the horses, Ted finally appeared. He was indignant. Fussing and scolding he plopped onto his seat and fixed himself there with a glare that defied me to move him. Laughing, I told him to be on time next time!

Those days are gone now. I sold Cairo, the other horses moved away and Ted left us for Kitty Heaven but I’ve never forgotten my friend Ted or how he kept me company as I cared for the horses. I hope that there are horses to feed and golf carts in Kitty Heaven and someone else who appreciates Ted’s company as much as I did. I don’t think the afterlife would be quite Heaven for Ted any other way.
cat cats cat humor cat comedy barn cat

Plastic Cat Carrier of Death

2007-04-25T17:46:00.000-04:00

Vet time! Fun for everyone! You bleed, you cry to say nothing of how your cat feels! The first step of this process is always delightful. Catching your cat and shoving…er, putting, him into the Plastic Cat Carrier of Death!

Rare is the cat who is helpful to this process. Cats quickly learn that carriers (and being in them) mean something even more unpleasant is soon to follow. The simplest solution as far as the cat is concerned is simply to avoid being caught. This can cause great frustration when you want (or worse need) your cat to be in a carrier.

What’s a cat owner to do? Well, it’s simple, in theory anyway. You want to put your cat in the carrier with the least amount of stress possible. But how? Follow my steps and you’ll be on the way to your vet’s office with the fewest scars possible.

1.) Allow plenty of time. Give yourself extra time to crate your cats. It’s your job to remain calm as your cat probably won’t. Worrying that you’ll be late to an appointment will distract you and your cat will feed off of your stress. Plan on more time than you need to prevent even more crating frazzle!

2.) Do not allow your cat to see the carrier. As I often say, forewarned is forearmed. The sight of the carrier alone is enough to provoke claws, hissing and flailing. Put the crate in a room away from your cat and close the door. Put your cat on your shoulder (For tips on holding your cat see How To Hold a Cat) and prevent him from looking forward by scratching his ears as you carry him to the kennel. The first glimpse your of the kennel your cat should have is when you slide him in.

3.) Gravity is your friend. When you put the kennel in the room, open the door and set it on its end so the door is the top-most part. Instead of cramming your cat into the crate head first, slide them in down and backwards. If you’ve prevented your cat from seeing the crate they’ll be halfway in before they realize they’re in a Squirm-Necessary-Situation.

4.) Close the door quickly. Do I really need to explain this?

5.) Calm, calm, calm. Talk in a calm “purry” voice. Nope, they won’t stop screaming (most likely) but it’s still your job to offer what comfort you can. A treat or two before you head out the door (make it a good one) won’t hurt unless your cat is prone to be sick in the car. If so or if you are not sure, save the treat for later.

Skip the radio in the car or keep it low. Cat’s ears are far more sensitive than ours are. Put them in the back and be mindful of the temperature. Just because you are comfortable up front that doesn’t mean your cat is, too. The stress will increase their temperature as well so if you live in an area that is hot like I do pay even more attention! Go easy on the brakes and sharp turns. Plastic carrier bottoms are slippery and your cat’s claws won’t give them much purchase there so don’t send your baby on a rollercoaster ride!

Finally, never ever, ever allow your cat to move freely about your car. This is dangerous for you, your cat and other drivers. Carriers may cause your cat stress but they’re great safety tools. There are many models on the market to suit your needs and budget so there’s no excuse for not using one and my fantastic best-you’ve-ever-read steps to crating will save you a ton of grief!

Now, you just have to get through the vet appointment!
cat cats cat humor cat comedy cat carriers

Drowning Cat Toys -- When Dead Just Isn't Dead Enough

2007-04-25T16:37:00.000-04:00

It’s Monday morning and the alarm (electronic or feline) has finally rousted you from your snug bed. You shuffle to the kitchen for a tall cup of joe to shake the sleep from your eyes. You halt riveted in terror! There, in your cat’s water dish, is a dead mouse!

Actually, to be fair, the mouse was never alive. You pulled the little purple catnip filled guy from a package just a couple of days ago. Fluffy had a ball batting him off your walls and down the hallway. Now, before your own shower you have to dry off Fluffy’s new best friend, or enemy depending on your perspective.

Why did Fluffy decide to drown the mouse? Drowning prey isn’t exactly “normal” cat behavior. Did she join some strange cult? What gives?

There is the possibility that it was an accident. During the course of play the mouse could have taken a bad bounce off your refrigerator and landed in the bowl. But if you’re noticing an epidemic of drowned mice it could be that Fluffy is hiding the mouse. Hey, it’s just the right color and she doesn’t want to share. According to About.com, cats in the wild often hide their kills in a nest to protect them from predators. Sticking the mouse in her water bowl is Fluffy’s way of keeping her precious mousies from that drooling canine you insist on having.
cat cats cat humor cat comedy cat toys

It's Four A.M. Why aren't you up yet?

2007-04-24T11:10:00.000-04:00

My cat Friday is too intelligent for his own good. Some might call him a problem solver, but those who have lived with him have often called him a troublemaker. Obstacles do not daunt him. He will puzzle over a situation tirelessly until he achieves his desired result. This has created numerous opportunities for me to overcome difficult behaviors to live with and to marvel at his intelligence.

His problem solving abilities enabled him to learn how to open doors. Seriously. He stands on his back legs, places a front paw on either side of the knob and twists. By carefully studying my actions, Friday learned the steps necessary to open a door. First, he tried touching the doorknob with his paws. When that failed to open the door, he studied my actions more intently. Finally, after much poking and prodding, he realized that he had to turn the doorknob. It chills my blood to think that the creature who shares my pillow every night is that smart. Luckily, his super-fluffy paws mean that he has to be very determined to turn the knob since his paws often slip and make it difficult to get a firm grip.

Friday’s problem solving skills have created other “amusing” habits. As a kitten, he slept less and he bounded out of bed around four a.m. I was a college student at the time and lived rent-free with gracious parents. As far as I was concerned, there was only one four on my clock and it was followed by p.m.

My mother habitually rises at 4:45 and Friday would often keep her company as she prepared for her day. Soon, however, it was not enough for him to play with Mom. Friday decided that if he were awake I should be awake, so he expected me to get up and play too. I am a late riser and I have been known to be very cranky when woken, but Friday has never minded my bad moods.

It began with his paws on my face. Naturally, this woke me, but I did not want to react. I knew that if I responded in any way Friday would know how to wake me and therefore would continue the behavior. Sometimes, I would feign sleep, roll over and put the pillow over my head to block his attempts; but cat paws are narrow and he would only slide one under the pillow and rub my face. I hoped that by pretending to sleep he would give up and go away. He did not give up. He simply changed his tactics.

Being such an intelligent creature, Friday had often observed that I rose from bed when the alarm clock began playing music; so, his next plan of attack was to make the alarm clock sound. I know I said he is smart but thankfully programming electronics is beyond his reach. He sniffed at it. He poked it with his paws. He even stood on it, but all to no avail. The alarm clock did not go off. Sadly, it actually woke me as my subconscious recognized a distinct creaking noise made by the plastic on the clock. I’ll admit I was impressed with his actions. It was even a bit funny. It is hard to feign sleep when you are snickering but I did my best. Looking at the time on the clock seemed to help.

Friday pondered the problem some more. He realized that I was awake when my eyes were open. Not a problem. He sat on the pillow and he tried to lift one of my eyelids with a paw. (You think I’m kidding. I wish I were.) I kept my eyes closed until he repeated the process and used a claw. That worked. My eyes snapped open. I can fake many things but claws in my eyelids typically prevent me from faking sleep. In the end, I am forced to confess that I underestimated Friday. He won that round but I do have my limits. He may have woken me, but he could not make me get out of bed. We never reached a solution that made us both happy. However, as Friday grew older he began to sleep later. Now, nearly eight years have passed and I am the one waking him up. Revenge is sweet!

cat cat humor early morning

Felines, Bovines, Where do you draw the line?

2007-04-20T10:29:00.000-04:00

For the sake of you, my devoted readers, and my own insatiable curiosity (it will be the death of me one day) I’m spending a beautiful early spring day inside researching one of the oldest unsolved mysteries on earth. Why do cats eat grass?

The sage world of the Internet is all together unsatisfactory on this issue. However, everyone one from bloggers to scientists seem to agree that cats may eat grass to aid in digestion, supplement nutrients, remedy hairballs or to cause vomiting in the case of an upset stomach. All also agree that there is no actual scientific evidence to support their claims only that these are the most commonly accepted answers. Wow. What unimaginative disappointing information. Worse still, it’s only a guess. When will some enterprising scientist take on this question that’s so critical to life on Earth?

One idea put forward that I happen to agree with is that they eat grass because they like it. My own cats often nibble at some blades with sheer looks of peace on their fuzzy faces and they’re vomit and hairball free. Yet, this point has its detractors. Some argue against this idea saying that cats are true carnivores and therefore should have no drive to nibble the green.

Naturally, I have my own unique theory about why cats eat grass. I believe cats eat grass as a means of flossing. By running the blades of tall stalks of grass between their teeth they dislodge bits of the dry cereal you call “food.” Flossing, as all cats know, is an important step in a cat’s hygienic routine. It prevents bad breath and tooth decay. Besides, cats usually have cat hair in their mouths and the grass is a nice change. Just last week, I discovered I’d left my lap top on. Mysteriously, someone had pulled up Colgate.com’s article on the importance of flossing. I’m not saying it was one of my cats, but it wasn’t me and my husband was at work. Coincidence? I think not.

Whatever you choose to believe many authors pointed out that grass grown indoors especially for your cats protects them from possibly ingesting poisons such as fertilizers or weed killers that outdoor grass may carry. Most sites then offer a link so you can buy cat grass and pad the site’s pockets! I’ll abstain but I admit I thought about it!

One thing is certain. Many cats do eat grass. No matter the reasons why, offer your favorite feline friend some greens and leave the reasons why up to them. But I bet if you look closely, you’ll notice their teeth are a bit cleaner!

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cat grass

Lost Pets and the Flier Crusades

2007-04-19T10:10:00.000-04:00

Thankfully, it's been many years since I've had a pet who went missing. However, I have found a few animals in recent years and dutifully I've made fliers and marched around the neighborhood armed with duct tape and posters in an effort to reunite the pet with his family.

In one case, my neighbor’s greyhound and basset hound broke out for a second time. I knew where they lived so I decided to walk them home. It was summer which is hot anywhere but in Georgia it’s HOT and sticky! The greyhound had no trouble keeping up but halfway home the basset sat down on a curb and wouldn’t budge. Wishing I had driven them home, I bent down and picked him up. He was a hefty, well-fed basset so we only made it to the corner before I sat down on a curb and wouldn’t budge. Luckily, a neighbor held the dogs while I went back for the car. I drove them home and then changed my sweaty, nasty clothes!

Lost pets are a problem for many people. If you’ve lost a pet and you don’t have a crazy neighbor like me, see Linda Wilson Fuoco of the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette article called There’s a lot to do when a pet is lost. Read the full article for some fantastic tips to help you bring Fluffy home safe and fluffy. If you haven’t lost a pet, read it anyway! Fuoco offers suggestions for ways the average person can lend a hand finding lost pets.

Finally, if you have lost a pet and a stranger is good enough to recover them and spend time helping bring him home, remember to ask if they incurred any costs and offer to reimburse them. Also, a donation to the local Humane Society in their name is a friendly gesture and you’ll be helping other animals find homes of their own.

cat cat humor lost pets

How to Pill a Cat

2007-04-18T15:33:00.000-04:00

Pilling a cat is a painful, frightening experience for many humans. Likewise, it is a painful, frightening experience for many cats! People are left physically scarred and cats are left emotionally scarred. Luckily, this no longer has to be the fate of you or your cat. By employing my Patented-Almost-Completely-Fool-Proof-Cat-Pilling-Technique listed below you too can achieve pilling harmony.

To use my Patented-Almost-Completely-Fool-Proof-Cat-Pilling-Technique wait until your cat is snoring, then, quietly, in another room retrieve the pill. After several pilling encounters, your cat will learn the sound of the pill bottle and will hide so silence at this step is extremely important, unless you like crawling under the bed to scrape your cat off the floor. Once you have the pill conceal it in your dominant hand, we will use the right. When you are completely ready to administer the pill, you may go to the room where your cat is sleeping.

Quickly, wake your cat by gently lifting him. Kneel on the floor and place your cat between your knees. Press your feet together to prevent your cat from escaping by backing up. Place your left hand under your cat’s chin and tilt his head back towards your stomach. Use your thumb and forefinger to open your cat’s mouth by gently pressing on either side of the mouth at the back of his lips. When your cat’s mouth is open, look inside. With your right hand, carefully aim the pill for the back of your cat’s mouth and shoot it in. Gently close your cat’s mouth with your left hand and hold until your are certain the pill has gone down.

There are some other things you should know while pilling a cat: hissing is helpful, the tongue is not slippery and blowing in your cat’s face is not rude. If your cat should hiss at you during this process, laugh to yourself. A hissing cat has an open mouth, which saves you the trouble of doing this step yourself. Better still, a cat will often look you in the eye while hissing. This will cause your cat to look up at you. You should be able to easily see inside your cat’s mouth and have a clear shot at his throat.
If the pill hits your cat’s rough tongue, it is very likely that he will be able to spit it out of his mouth. Once the pill is covered in spit, it is even harder to get it down so careful aim cannot be stressed enough. Your first shot is always your best. Once your cat is aware of what you are attempting to do, the difficulty of this exercise increases exponentially. Never give your cat a chance to build a counterattack. Remember, forewarned is forearmed. Finally, if the pill is in your cat’s mouth but not down his throat, try blowing a burst of air in your cat’s face (be gentle and avoid his eyes). If startled, your cat may swallow and thus take the pill.

Finally, the dismount may be the most important step of this process. Think of it as setting up for the next pill. You want your cat to leave the encounter as calmly as possible. Do not allow him to dart away. Instead, gently restrain him with all his paws on the floor with your left hand and scratch him with your right. When he relaxes, let go, but keep petting. By allowing him to walk away, you help him feel as though he was in control all along. He knows that he really wasn’t in control but he feels better pretending that he could have been in control. Get in the habit of offering some top-notch treats such as tuna immediately after, your cat may make a few allowances for the discomforts of being pilled if he’s convinced the payoff is better than the humiliation.

Good luck and go boldly! Remember faint heart never pilled pissy cat!
cat cat humor cat pill

As If the Cats Don't Give Me Enough to Worry About

2007-04-17T16:15:00.000-04:00

Today’s post is not about cats. It’s actually about baby birds but it’s too funny not to share. Besides, cats like birds; especially little tasty ones!

We used to have a giant bush in front of our window. It became damaged early in it’s little bush life and it grew a funny trunk sort of like a tree. After years of neglect, it had become very large. After moving into the house, I decided to cut it down. It blocked my only view of our driveway and I felt it posed a bit of a safety concern. I don’t know how to use a chain saw so I opted for an axe and early one summer morning I strolled into my front yard to hack down the bush and perfect my Paul Bunyan imitation.

Things were going very well. I discovered an unknown ax talent and merrily took out some aggressions on the trunk of the bush. Finally, it gave a crack and fell on its side. I flipped it over and chopped through the last bits of trunk that were hanging on. Frankly, I was surprised at how quickly I took it down. Feeling very pleased with myself in a super-woman sort of way I began to drag my conquered foe to the curb. Suddenly I froze. My happy feelings fled out of my chest. Hopping in my flower bed were panicked baby mocking birds who’s house I’d just demolished.

I flung open the front door and called for my husband’s help. There was another large bush adjacent to the one I’d mowed down. I put the baby’s nest in it and we began collecting them. Baby birds were everywhere; yet, what seemed like 12 babies were really only two very active babies. We darted after them, scooping them to safety before the neighborhood cat discovered them. My own cat’s three faces were pressed to the window above us. I later cleaned drool off the glass.

Baby birds aren’t terribly cooperative. We’d put them in their nest and they’d hop back out and explore their new bush. That may have sufficed for older birds but they seemed so flimsy and young that we wanted them in their nest. Finally, one consented to stay put and the other was at least in the bush.

Work loomed large so my husband and I headed out. Later that afternoon I decided to check on the babies I’d displaced. I wanted to check on the one who wasn’t in his nest that morning. I hoped he’d made it back. I stood on tiptoes and peered into the bush. SWISH, THUNK! Mommy or Daddy mockingbird had had quite enough of my interference in their baby’s lives and pecked me on the head.

“Ouch,” I protested! “I’m only trying to help,” I called to the bird who was now sitting in the neighbor’s camellia bush. Purse on my head for safety I peered in again. Happily, both babies were snug in their nest.

Spring is here and the yard calls me to plant, water and grow. I’m worried though, there’s this other bush that needs to go… Maybe, I’ll wait until winter. That or I’ll employ a team to do a thorough anti-baby bird search. Dive-bombing mockingbirds can leave a mark!cat cat humor

Trouble in all the Wrong Places

2007-04-13T15:33:00.000-04:00

There is a serious threat to the animal-world at large, particularly the world of animal rescue. An unknown enemy lurks in the corners, hindering the adoptions of thousands of animals, stopping loving families from adding a new member. You may have been affected without even knowing it! What is this insidious hinderer of animal love? The Vigilante Animal Rescuer!

You probably know her best as the “Crazy Cat Lady” who lives down the street. She collects cats like some people collect baseball cards. No tabby is safe from her and no one else can care for animals as well as she can. She steals your outdoor cat because she doesn’t think cats should be outside. She overhears you at the vet discussing your cat’s serious medical condition and interrupts the doctor to prescribe her own treatment. She knows the right food to feed, the right bed to buy and the right way to put the food in the cat’s bowl. She is the arbiter of what is right for every animal in every situation and knows what is best for your pets whether she has met them or not. Whatever you do for Fluffy, it’s not up to her standards.

Arm yourself! These women must be stopped! Remember, forewarned is forearmed so know what signs to watch for. Though they look normal, the Vigilante can be recognized by her actions and affiliations. She is the power-hungry member of your local ASPCA or Humane Society. Last year, she led a coup and wrested control of the organization. She established new “improved” militant adoption rules. No pets go to homes that cannot meet the following standards: well-dressed would be adopters, no children in the home, no women of childbearing years, no other pets, a fenced in yard even if it is a cat you’re adopting, a minimum household income of $200,000 a year, no fish, no hot air balloon pilots, no manicurist, no shag carpet, no art deco, no stoves, no electricity, no, no, NO!

You want to adopt a cat! Ha! Her two story Victorian, comfortably devoid of other pesky humans has room for 40 more cats bucko and she doesn’t like the looks of you!

Warn your friends. Warn your neighbors. Until a vaccine is ready, no animal lover is safe from her bigoted, grasping ways. Unite animal lovers of the world! Unite! Overthrow the Vigilantes before there are no cats left!

A Rare Chance to Share the Spotlight

2007-04-12T11:55:00.000-04:00

I like blogging because I think I'm funny; therefore, I don't really like sharing the spotlight. Nevertheless, there are LOTS of funny authors out there. Here's a sample of some of my favs.

Stuff on My Cat has some great cat pics. Here's one but cruise on over and check out the giggles for yourself.

Can someone shine part of the spotlight back over here? Carnival of the Cats is a collection of bloggers who comment on our favorite topic: cats. I get some shine as they've added a couple of How To Hold a Cat clips to their weekly publishing. You can read about all things cat and even vote on your favorite cat model.

Finally, see why cats don't like you at My Cat Hates You. Funny pics to remind you that you are mortal and your cat knows where you sleep!

Hair Care and My Cat

2007-04-11T11:15:00.000-04:00

Friday has a magnificent coat. He has thick, black hair and each dusky strand is about 4 inches long. His tail is a marvel of bushy fluff that gently bounces with each step he takes. When he sheds out his winter coat, even my heinous pink carpet turns gray. The only drawback (for him, I could do without cat hair on everything) is that the fine strands of his undercoat often mat leaving huge clumps of Friday hair in tangled masses in his “armpits.”

While Friday enjoys a good brushing, he strictly limits the brush to his head and back. Anytime I’ve tried to brush between his front legs I’ve been hissed at. Friday’s hissing breath generally knocks me out but if that doesn’t work he’s got four fully loaded paws and a mouth full of teeth and he’s not afraid to use them.

To combat mats, I have surrendered any notions of preemptive strikes. Instead, I periodically feel behind his front legs. No mats, no problem but when mats have formed it takes both my husband and I to remove them. I sit in my office desk and my husband in his. Gently, I put Friday on his back against my chest. My husband darts in, grabs his back legs and holds him still. Friday begins wailing and screaming as I feel around and isolate the mat. Once the mat is located and contained, I trim it out using dull, round pointed scissors. Of course, it is never that simple.

Friday makes a production of the process. He objects loudly to being turned on his back, a position that while unfortunate is the best way I’ve found to keep him still while cutting. Of course, still is a subjective word here. Friday is an expert squirmer. He knows just how to contort his body to gain a claw hold and launch himself into the floor. I have lost many a good shirt and earned a few scars from his lethal back paws, hence the need for two people.

Once we’ve got a firm hold on him he typically quits squirming. With two of us, he can’t quite get away. But he’ll never stop arguing with me. He cries so vociferously that the dog actually is quite concerned that we’re injuring the cat. She sits close by and watches attentively worrying that she might need to bite one of us to protect Friday.

Hemmy, on the other paw, enjoys the mat removal process with a glee that only a sibling could feel for a brother’s distress. He figures that since Friday is down he might as well finish him off. It’s a bit of a problem keeping him from chasing Friday on a normal day (see Catch Him if You Can’t Help It) but when Friday is pinned down and crying it’s just too much for Hemmy. Slowly his brown, felt ears will rise from beside my chair, a wicked gleam in the yellow eyes that accompany them; his paw cocked and ready. I shoo him off but as soon as Friday is mat free and released, Hemmy jumps on him. Don’t bother putting Friday someplace where Hemmy can’t get to him like high on my computer desk. He’ll only jump down and stroll right past Hemmy. For such a smart cat, he can be strangely dumb.

***Dumb, maybe, but dumb with fabulous hair! --Friday

cat cat humor

Why Pet Sitters Drink Decaf

2007-04-10T15:28:00.000-04:00

Pet sitting is not for the faint of heart. Animals are unpredictable; there are some days it takes every trick in my bag just to survive. If you are considering pet sitting as a career read this first. You should know what you’re asking for.

Mondays are the busiest day of the week for me. I reserve my office time to do payroll, balance the checkbook and take care of my assorted paperwork. I had quite a stack waiting for me on my desk as last week was spring break and the locals fled town to make way for the golf fans that descend on our city once a year. It certainly isn’t our busiest time of year but I spent considerable extra time out in the “field” facing down everything from pony-sized dogs to itty-bitty caged rodents. Throw in out of town relatives at the in-laws to visit and I was out more than I was in.

I still had one sit that carried over into this week so I went to take care of the three large dogs before I locked myself in the office for the day. I like the three dogs but I’ve had many simpler pet sits. This one in particular is very time consuming, as the dogs need a lot of exercise and it isn’t exactly next door. I walk one each day that I go and the sit generally takes longer than the 30 minutes we typically alot. It was the Rotty’s turn to go for a walk. He likes to chase after cats and squirrels so we have been practicing not chasing them, especially while on the leash. As we rounded a corner for home, I spied a cat just inside the overhang of a storm drain. I saw the cat before the dog did and decided not to let him get up to the curb and prepared myself to correct him if he lunged. Seconds later he spied the cat and lunged despite my mental preparations. Startled the cat jumped and fell back into the storm drain. I could hear her claws scraping like nails on a chalkboard as she frantically tried to save herself from the fall. Typically cool in critical circumstances I freaked!

“Oh, my God!” I yelled at the dog. “What are we going to do?” I looked under the drain. No cat. Panicked I rushed the dog home and tried to decide my next move. Over my dead body was I leaving the cat in the bottom of a storm drain. I put the dog away and hurried back to the corner calling Animal Control on my cell phone as I went. They had to come. If they didn’t come I’d call the Sanitation Department but so help me someone was coming to rescue that poor cat who I’d sentenced to a slow, torturous death in a dank dark hole.

I could picture the cat huddled at the bottom of a long shaft, partially submerged in water possibly suffering with a broken leg. I fought back tears. The poor cat with the broken leg. I decided to volunteer to be lowered by ropes down into the pit. I’m scared of heights but it was my fault after all. I should be the one to get wet and dirty and cold, it was unbelievably cold for April. If no owner was apparent I would insist on taking the cat with me, Animal Control rules be damned. I’d take her to the vet to have her leg fixed. If an owner appeared after she was well, I wouldn’t take their money. I’d nearly killed their cat, paying for her injuries was the least that I could do. If no owner ever appeared, she could live with my husband and me. I would hear no arguments from him. We have three cats already, what’s one more?

I sat by the storm drain waiting for the promised Animal Control person. My mind raced. What if Animal Control wouldn’t get the cat out of the hole? If they wouldn’t help, I’d call every media outlet in town and scream about how they’d left this poor little cat to die. I imagined the public outcry. That could be anyone’s cat down there. I knew the locals would be furious that no one came to the cat’s aid and imagined the frantic scramble at the offices trying to deflect the inevitable criticism and media nightmare. I’d probably be interviewed on TV. I’d need to touch up my make up.

I was planning on how I would put the soggy cat with a broken leg in our office for a few days to recover before I integrated her to our household when the man from Animal Control arrived. He looked like Superman to me as he climbed out of the white county truck and pulled on a pair of leather gloves.

“Thank you for coming,” I said, “I feel just awful.” I pressed my hand to my chest, trying hard not to cry again. He smiled patiently and asked me what color the cat was and if it was indeed a cat or possibly a kitten. “Grey, cat, long hair.” This is what I do for a living after all. I know an adult cat when I see one, even if all I saw were the cat’s front legs.

He pulled out a screwdriver and a pair of pliers. He lifted the edge of the manhole cover with the screwdriver and shoved the pliers under to make room for his hands. Mightily, he heaved the cover back and rolled it onto the curb. Fearing the sight of a small broken body ten feet below I steeled myself and looked into the hole. There, about four feet below the street surface I saw a couple of broken liquor bottles on a soft sandy bottom. No cats, broken or otherwise. A tunnel led under the street to another storm drain. I confess, I was surprised at the shallowness of the hole but insisted the man climb into the hole and look down the tunnel all the same. Complaining of spiders, he took a large flashlight and went in. No cats in the tunnel either.

Needing my sleep, I begged him to crawl into the manhole across the street. It was equally shallow. Still no cats. Three tunnels led from this storm drain to two more storm drains, a man hold cover in the center of the street and one master storm drain that lead to wherever storm water goes to die. Careful of spiders, the man patiently looked down each of the three tunnels. It was beginning to dawn on me that not only would we not find the cat but also that the cat should have no trouble jumping out of the shallow hole if and when she was good and ready. Though I would have been happiest to see the cat and offer my apologies, I had abandoned my pleas to God to let the cat live. It seemed perfectly likely that the cat was alive and had probably crawled out of the hole shortly after I walked the dog home. I was feeling much better; my visions of martyrdom dying as quickly as the storm drains were shallow.

The man in the hole looked up at me, “You know, cats live in storm drains. We go to property to pick up feral cats and they dart right down them.” He eyed the other two storm drains hoping I would relent. Secretly, I rooted for the feral cats and their storm drains but the man was only doing his job and he had been very kind and patient with me with regards to my not-broken legged, un-soggy cat who I hadn’t killed. In the spirit of benevolence, I consented that crawling in the other holes wasn’t necessary and in all likelihood wouldn’t produce the cat anyway, slippery little things that they are.

So, I returned to the office an hour and a half later than I would have had I not suffered through the saga of the falling cat but I didn’t care. Thought I can’t be 100% certain the cat suffered no injuries I felt much better about the situation and I didn’t suffer nightmares of the sweet little cat who I’d decided to call Saffron shivering at the bottom of a wet, sunless shaft dying of starvation and exposure. Besides, if there’s one thing about paperwork it’s that it will still be there waiting for you when you return. I finally finished it with the help of a cup of coffee. After my morning ordeal, I made it a decaf!

Still considering a career as a pet sitter? If so, you’ll probably be wildly successful. Just remember to stick to the decaf and stay away from storm drains!
catcat humorpet sitting

Why are Cats Aloof?

2007-04-05T14:30:00.000-04:00

Cats, unlike lesser animals such as dogs, often seem to be independent and act as though they don’t need humans. This is due to the fact that they are independent and don’t need humans. This is not to say, however, that they do not choose to interact with us or even, in extreme cases, decide they like us. Many people expect cats to respond to them the same ways dogs respond to them. This is a mistake. The way in which cats interact with humans should in no way be compared to the way dogs interact with humans. They are two distinct species each with their own “hard wiring” that causes them to respond to us in very different ways.

Take dogs for example. Dogs are inferior to cats. Not only do they have nasty drooling problems but also they are incapable of cleaning themselves, climbing trees or acquiring food without the assistance of several other drooling dogs. It is this latter example that points to a dog’s willingness to live alongside humans.

Dogs are pack animals. To eat, they need the help of the other members of their pack. Working in tandem they hunt and take down prey much larger than any one dog. Their numbers mean they can kill something big like a moose and feeding so many mouths means they need to kill large prey. Thus, dogs understand what it is to need other animals and to work together in a pack.

Cats, on the other paw, are typically solitary hunters. (Lions hunt more like dogs so are excluded here and the status of their “supposed cat-hood” should be called sharply into question. I suspect they drool. But I digress.) Cats generally hunt alone and as dogs hunt large prey, they tend to hunt small prey. Mice, the McDonald’s #1 combo in the world of the cat, are quick, small and great at hiding. This means cats must be quick and stealthy if they want to eat. Two cats make twice the noise which could alert a mouse about to peep out of his hole so one cat is better by himself. Besides, if he invites another cat they can never agree on the same restaurant and then feelings get hurt and the night ends much too soon…

Because cats hunt alone, they are masters of self-reliance. Sure it’s nice that we fill their bowls but the little predators don’t need the assistance of anyone else, feline, canine or otherwise in order to grab a quick meal. This means that as humans we have to earn the friendship of cats in different ways than the ways in which we earn the friendship of dogs. Give a dog food, and he’s yours. Give a cat food and he’s listening but he’s not signing anything. A cat chooses his friends based on personal tastes.

To be a good cat friend do offer food (tuna is a favorite) but be someone who’s easy to get along with too. Do not force yourself on a cat. If you wish to pet him, hold your hand out near him but let him come up to you. Never pet until he has finished sniffing and if he moves away from you stop and move back from him. Once he knows you’re “cool” he’ll be a snuggly companion who’ll sit in your lap and never leave drool on your pants.

No dogs were harmed in the writing of this entry.
cat cats cat humor cat comedy

Catch Him if You Can't Help It

2007-04-03T14:41:00.000-04:00

One of my cat Friday’s favorite games is to be chased through the house. I’m often the proverbial playground “It” and he pleads with me to try to catch him. His eyes bug out and he chirps, a noise between a meow and a purr, as he coaxes me to run. I start toward him and off he goes running full tilt down the hallway. He puts his whole body into it; his legs pump at Mach speed. He holds his fluffy tail cocked to the right, unknowingly creating drag. When he runs on the linoleum or the hardwood floors his paws slide frantically. Sometimes he crashes into the walls or furniture, whichever happens to be on the far end of a slide. He’ll beg anyone to chase him: myself, my husband, the dog. So long as someone is on his “heels,” he’s happy.

He’s happy because he knows he’s faster than we are. He’s delightfully fast! He’s the fastest cat in the world. Except he’s not. He’s really slow. Unaccountably slow, in fact. My husband and I laugh that we can walk behind him and keep up when he is “fast running”. Don’t mention that to him though! Should you “catch” him while he is running by reaching out and touching him, he gets mad. We’re not supposed to catch him. We can’t catch him because he’s so much faster than we are, or so he thinks.

Sometimes he wants me to chase him but I’m working. He’ll meow and get ready to run but I don’t look up from my work. So, he tries standing on my desk, blocking my view of my monitor. I shoo him away. Finally, he’s forced to take drastic action. He scratches the carpet. If I rise to scold him he runs, and I am forced into his game. If I ignore him, scratching the carpet goes uncorrected. What is a cat mom to do (as if anything could be done)?

Luckily, Hemmy is always willing to chase Friday. If Friday’s favorite game is being chased then Hemmy’s favorite game is chasing him. Hemmy hunts Friday through the house, stalking like a small lion. Friday, with gazelle-like alertness, chirps and runs. Down the hall they rush, a thunder of paws closely followed by a thump then hissing and growling. Hemmy doesn’t follow Friday’s rules and he catches him and tackles him. Friday isn’t a fan of rough housing. Though he is the bigger cat, he whines and fusses at Hemmy, which only entertains Hemmy more; his eyes take on a mischievous twinkle that grows in intensity with every growl and hiss Friday emits. Friday squirms away and runs from Hemmy and thus round two is born.

And so it goes: chirping, running, thumping, growling, back to chirping. The circle of life in my house is the circle pattern formed from room to room as cats rush through the house in a never-ending game of tag. Yeah, it’s a bit noisy but far more melodious than that horrible song! Besides, it beats my babies being involved in the for real Circle of Life. And so Brian and I will continue walking behind Friday and Hemmy will continue rolling him end over end and maybe, just maybe, Friday will take a turn at being “It.”cat cats cat humor cat comedy circle of life

Easter's Gone to the Cats

2007-04-02T14:20:00.000-04:00

Easter is one of my favorite times of the year. It heralds the arrival of spring and fills you up with picnic lunches but what I like about Easter most are egg hunts. When I was a kid I loved to try to find the most eggs. I usually didn’t but it was fun anyway. As I’ve grown older I’ve found that I enjoy hiding the eggs more than hunting them but I still have just as much fun as I did when I was a kid.

Perhaps you are like me and the only “kids” you have possess twice the typical number of legs. Since I enjoy Easter so much, I decided to celebrate it with my children: Hemmy, Friday and Kit. We had our own kitty cat Easter egg hunt. Of course, we didn’t actually use eggs and we kept it indoors but we had just as much fun as any “real” egg hunt I’ve ever been on.

In place of the eggs, we used cat treats. I selected the most aromatic from our cache and “hid” them inside of various cat toys. I put a couple in a cardboard box with Smacking Holes see Cat Toys and Your Bank Account. I put some in the track of a scratching post that has a little ball that runs around it; and I put some inside a plastic laundry basket. They had no trouble finding the treats but they did have a few challenges when it came to getting the treats.

Hemmy was the funniest. He knew there were treats in the laundry basket but he couldn’t fit his paw through the slits on the sides. He pushed it all over the room with his paws and his teeth. He was so desperate to get the treats that it never occurred to him to get inside of the basket. Friday had no trouble overcoming the obstacle. He hopped in the basket and beat Hemmy to the prize. Kit was lady-like when she scooped a treat from the scratching post and ate it delicately from her paw. She can afford to be gentile. The boys know she’ll smack them in the head if they bother her food!

All the cats are sound asleep. They wore themselves out in the hunting. I can’t wait to do it again tomorrow!cat cat humor cat easter

Cat Torture: The Surprising Benefits

2007-03-30T13:47:00.000-04:00

Cats are finicky. I know what a bombshell. They love to have their heads scratched and their backs stroked but they do not like a person to touch their stomach or paws. Doing so could earn you a new scar. But could routinely annoying your cat by touching these sensitive areas be beneficial?

Absolutely and not just to get even with them! A cat may bleed you on a good day for touching his paw but what happens to you when he has a splinter in it that causes him pain? I’d rather not think about how you’ll look after you try to remove it! You could practice touching their paws and stomachs when they’re healthy or have good medical coverage for that trip to the ER!

I “torture” my cats daily. When they’re curled up sleeping next to me I hold their outstretched paw in my hand. Practice means that I can stroke the top of their paws a bit before they pull away. This was very handy when Friday injured his paw a few months ago. Because he trusts me, I was able to hold his paw and examine it closely. It required a trip to the vet in the end but not because I needed help determining the injury.

To gain claw-free access to the stomach I wait until my cat is on his side or back. Then, I scratch in between his front legs on his chest. I have met many cats who like this. Once they’re comfortable with this action I slowly run my hand over their stomach being sure to stop immediately if they start to react. Then, I leave the stomach alone and begin scratching again. Over time, I can pet their stomachs more. In Hemmy’s case, there’s a lot of stomach to pet!

All of this practice means I can be the first “responder” to one of my cats should they become ill or injured. Hemmy is my accident-prone child so I spend extra time working with him. I never know when we’ll make another emergency trip to the vet so it pays to be prepared.

I hope you’ll adopt my torture policy too! I’d hate for you to pay for a trip to the vet and a trip to the ER all on the same day!

cat cats cat comedy cat torture

Cat Math: Does adding one more cat cause four times the havoc?

2007-03-29T15:51:00.000-04:00

You’ve got one cat and due to a head injury or un-diagnosable virus attacking your brain stem you decide to get another one! “Why?!” Exclaims the blog author who has three cats of her own. Perhaps you should lay down somewhere cool before you make this decision.

Despite my little jokes, there are occasions where inviting a second cat into your home can be a good idea. If your cat is young and active, a comparable playmate can be a lot of fun. Sometimes, the introduction of a second cat can serve as a distraction to certain behaviors you’d rather your cat not exhibit. Then again, there is always the worry that they’ll gang up on you and teach each other new naughty behaviors! While they often seem aloof many cats do enjoy a buddy to groom, cuddle and pounce!

Just as there can be good times to add a new cat to your household, there can be bad times as well. As a pet sitter, clients often amaze me. They’ll have a great pet who’s lived with them for years. As their pet approaches their last days the clients will get a new pet. Now I know they are trying to buffer the emotional blow they know is coming when Fluffy finally passes, but this is selfish thinking. After all those years Fluffy put up with being poked while sleeping and smacked in the head by the children in the house, hasn’t she earned a peaceful twilight? Like Fluffy is laying there in her little bed dozing and thinking to herself, “Gosh, I wish I had a little kitten to jump on my head while I’m resting and to chew my tail while I’m trying to use my litter box.” If this sounds like your house do Fluffy a favor and hold off on that new addition just a bit longer.

SOAP BOX TIME: Having two cats does double the fun but remember that it doubles the responsibility (like vet bills, food cost and litter box duty) too. Before you decide to add a second pet of any kind, please do decide to get a pet. Don’t bring a new guy home on a whim because you noticed his cute face in a store window while shopping. I get calls weekly from people who have had pets for years but, “just can’t keep them anymore,” and they want me to help their friend and companion find a new home. Be committed to any little animal you bring home and they will, in turn, be committed to you!

Enough soap box! I do solemnly swear to engage only in comedy and bad puns for at least 3 posts before I dust the soap box off again!

cat cat humor

Trimming Cat Claws as an Olympic Sport

2007-03-28T11:05:00.000-04:00

Kit is easily the best behaved of my three cats. She never misses the litter box, she is polite to company and she always uses her scratching post. And use her scratching post she does. She digs in with zest and shreds it to bits. My other cats reserve that type of scratching for my couch. They could take some lessons!

All Kit’s scratching creates some super-sharp claws, which presents a problem when she walks. The slim little tips become stuck in the carpet and she has to peel her foot away from the floor with every step. It sounds like Velcro being ripped apart. The worst part is she tends to pace when she wants something. At five-thirty this morning, she decided she wanted to go outside. She made Velcro sounds all over the bedroom for an hour. It is time she had a manicure!

Trimming Kit’s claws should only be attempted by a trained professional or a Hollywood stuntman. Kit is sassy and imperial and if she wanted her nails trimmed she’d prance up and demand it. Because she has never once demanded that I trim her nails, she thinks me presumptuous in the extreme when I come at her with the trimmers. To her credit, she doesn’t really scratch at me but she’s an expert squirmer and she could teach a sailor a few profanities even he’s never heard. Trimming her nails requires agility, speed and the ability to tune out her swearing. It’s so much fun.

I’m blonde so sometimes it takes me a couple of tries to get things right. After a few attempts of trying to hold that slippery little cat (she’s eight pounds wet) still to trim her claws, I realized that there was a much easier way. The next time she needed a trim, I waited until she was asleep, not just asleep but in such a deep sleep she was soggy. I was through one whole paw before she realized I was doing something she didn’t like.

It worked so well that now I wait until my cats are out cold before I do anything with them. This is particularly useful when pilling them. The pill is usually down before they wake up. No more crawling under the couch to find the slimy pill that was spit past my head and by this evening, no more Velcro paws. At least for a few weeks.
cat cat humor trimming cat claws pilling cat

Cat Toys and Your Bank Account

2007-03-27T09:45:00.000-04:00

Have you ever noticed how much money a person can spend on cat toys? No longer do consumers pick up toy mice or jingle bell balls at the grocery store. Now one can spend a year’s salary on cat furniture, electronic cat toys and even cat videos to play when you are not at home. In such a busy world full of cat toys, how do you know which one your cat will like?

The rule of thumb is: the more you spend, the more disinterest your cat will show. I once bought my cat a plastic cheese. It had holes cut in the side so he could hide in it and a plastic mouse that dangled on a string and rattled when moved (moved by me, never the cat). It won me no love from Friday but Hemmy once peed in it and Kit often used it as a springboard to get up on top of a table. I threw it away a week ago because I got tired of tripping on it.

Their favorite toy is a cardboard box (free so it follows my theory). I tape three sides down so the opening is just a small hole. They think they are really hiding when they are in there. For fun, I cut small holes all around the sides and on the top of the box. I call these Smacking Holes. They make the already interesting cardboard box a kitty Disney World.

The cats make me laugh until I cry when they are in the box. One will get inside and believe that he’s hidden from the others but before long the other two are outside of the box reaching in smacking the cat inside, looks of sheer glee on their faces. Whoever is inside falls over himself to get out of the box, a little less glee on his face. You would think they would learn but within minutes, someone else is inside the box dodging paws from two sides.

You can keep your cat chairs, cat trees and cat houses, but can I have the box they came in?

cat cat humor cat toys

Smarty Cat

2007-03-26T11:39:00.000-04:00

There are many challenges to living with a smart cat, especially if the cat is smarter than you are! When you think of living with a smart cat you typically think of cats who check to see if you are looking before they get on the counters or cats who figure out how to turn on the faucet so they can drink fresh water. You forget that sometimes the biggest challenge is not letting them see you laugh at their antics!

Friday is not just smart he’s downright brilliant. He can open doors. He stands up on his back legs and turns the knob with his front paws and I’m not talking about fancy door knobs with a little lever. I’m talking about plain round door knobs. He even knows that outside doors have to be unlocked before the knob will turn but thank God, he cannot manage that on his own.

My husband and I typically use our dining room table as mere decoration and like so many American families we flop down on the couch and watch TV while we eat our dinner. Friday knows better than to beg me for food. I’ll only shoo him away. His father is another matter. Brian has been known to sneak him a piece of chicken on occasion so Friday restricts his begging to the most productive quarters.

Friday will sit on the arm of the couch next to Brian and stare at him. When staring doesn’t work (he typically allows 1.2 seconds for this tactic) he’ll poke Brian’s arm with his paw as though Brian might not have noticed the twelve pound cat leaning toward his plate. When direct tactics fail to produce food Friday pulls out his “cute” weapon. I assure you he can be extremely cute when he decides to be. Worse still, he knows he’s cute!

If Brian is eating something like a hamburger, he’ll hold it up with both hands just in front of his mouth and wait. Friday in full-tilt cute mode will start rubbing his head on Brian’s shoulder as though the burger doesn’t even exist and he simply wants to tell Brian how much he loves him. As his love deepens, he begins to move down Brian’s arm rubbing more passionately with every inch. Suddenly, he “accidentally” finds that his nose is near the burger. Of course, he was just loving Brian but when there’s such a juicy temptation so close to his sensitive little nose… He stretches out and just as he’s about to get a taste of the burger Brian moves it away.

Ok, now we sound like cruel and unusual cat parents. I’ll accept the unusual charge but cruel is going to far. Friday always gets a piece. Brian just doesn’t let him do it for himself! I’ve often scolded Brian for teasing Friday so much but I’ve got to admit it really is funny to watch Friday scheme. The funniest part is watching Brian shake as he tries not to laugh and interrupt Friday’s progress.

Would Friday act this way if it didn’t get him somewhere? Of course not. He rarely bothers to ask me for people food because I don’t give it to him. Tip of the day: if your cat is exhibiting behavior that you don’t like examine the situation and see if you could actually be the cause of the behavior. In this case, Brian certainly is the cause but we’ve decided the comedy out weights any inconvenience to us or our dinner!
cat cat humor cat burger

What's in a Name?

2007-03-24T00:03:00.000-04:00

Hemmingway, one of my three feline-children, is named after the famous author Earnest Hemmingway. Hemmingway (the author not the cat) is famous for many things. Besides being a magnificent author, he was a big game hunter, a womanizer (of rich women especially) and a collector of cats, specifically polydactyl cats. These are cats with extra toes, which causes their paws to look like mittens. Hemmy (the cat not the author) is polydactyl, hence his name.

Yet, Hemmy lives up to his namesake in other ways as well. We’ve had beautiful weather recently. A few days ago my cats begged to go outside. When the weather is nice, they get supervised trips into the backyard. Our dog Claire comes too. The cats are so happy. They get to eat grass and roll in the dirt. We have a rule that no clean cats are allowed back inside the house. Hemmy obeys that rule with zeal. He's covered in dirt and dry grass withing 3 minutes of darting out of the back door. Funny, he seems to forget the rule about not getting on the counters.

Anyway, I was snapping some pics of Friday and Hemmy for this blog at the back of our yard when Claire, the dog, began barking at some squirrels in a nearby tree. When she started barking, the neighbor's Labrador realized we were outside and came barreling up to the fence, fangs bared and barking and snarling with a ferocity that made me start despite the fence. Claire rushed to meet the challenge. Praise God for chain link. Friday headed for the back door, which I always leave open when we're outside. I knew Kit who was closest to the house would already be inside. Hemmy, who was rolling on his back, sprang up. Did he follow Friday to the safety of the house? No! Like his namesake hunted lions, he rushed to meet the Labrador head on! I shrieked and dropped the camera. Unlike Claire, Hemmy could climb the fence. My yells stopped him and I was able to snatch him up before he climbed the fence. We all went inside after that. Of course, I had to drag Claire in. I know this blog is about cats but I have to admit that I was proud of my dog. Though the neighbor's dog was about 4 inches taller and probably half my dog's age, the Labrador quickly cowed in the face of Claire's "counter-attack." Your kid made the honor roll, my dog shut the neighbor's dog up...but I digress.

What is the moral of the story you might ask? Be careful what you name your pets. They just may live up to it! Pick a nice tame name like Sleepy or Sir-Purrs-A-Lot, but never-ever name your cat Hemmingway.
cat cat humor cat dog

Catch a Tiger...From Your Breeder?

2007-03-21T21:29:00.000-04:00

Ever decide that living with a house cat didn't pose enough problems and desire a large cat, say like a tiger? Great news! Now you can have the challenge of a house cat and an apex predator rolled into one*! All joking aside (and how often does that happen here?) what a cool cat. The "Toyger" as this new breed is dubbed is house cat with tiger stripes. Best of all, should you choose to purchase one of these beauties part of your payment goes to tiger conservation. Get a conversation piece, best new buddy and warm fuzzy all at the same time.

For more info check out the National Geographic article where I first learned of this super-cool new cat breed: http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2007/03/070321-toygers-photos.html

*Toygers contain no tiger genes but are bred from Bengal cats!
cat rare breed cat humor

My Cat Won't Play With His Scratching Post -- Prefers Carpet

2007-03-21T11:00:00.000-04:00

Reader Question: My cat ignores the scratching post I bought for him. What should I do?

Cats, fickle creatures that they are, often turn their noses up at scratching posts only to stroll to the nearby couch and sink their claws in. Other cats can’t seem lay off the carpet.

There are two problems with scratching posts. First, they often do not weigh enough. If the post should move when your cat tries to scratch, it is not going to pass Kitty’s inspection. Cats like to really dig in when they scratch so any post you offer should be hefty. If you have the sort that hang on doorknobs or that are made of cardboard and your cat ignores them the lack of substantial weight could be the culprit.

The second problem is that some cats prefer to scratch vertically and others prefer to scratch horizontally. If your cat likes to scratch vertically, he may ignore posts that lay flat on the floor. Likewise, horizontal scratchers may ignore posts that sit up.

To determine what your cat prefers, observe where he most frequently scratches. If he stands on his back legs and digs into your favorite recliner, he’ll probably like a post that sits up and down. If your carpet is the typical culprit, buy a post that lays flush on the floor. I have three cats with a combination of tastes. I bought the sort that sits up and then laid it on its side so it is at an angle. This seems to be a hit with all three. (It’s a miracle!)

Finally, when you bring home a new post entice your cat to play with it by spiking it with catnip! While using the litter box seems to come naturally to most cats differentiating between your couch and the scratching post takes a bit of practice, so make that post the most interesting thing in your house for a few days until it catches on!
cat cat humor

Water Water Everywhere but None is Cat Approved

2007-03-20T10:51:00.000-04:00

It is a pleasant Saturday afternoon. You are lounging on your sofa recovering from mowing the lawn. You have a good book and a tall glass of water. As you begin to slip gently into a sweet afternoon nap, your reverie is shattered! Your innocent, refreshing glass of water flips end over end splashing you, the couch and your paperback. From the corner of your eye you see a gray tabby tail whisking around the corner. Your cat was drinking from your water glass. Gross!

But why? There is a bowl of water specifically for your cat. You bought a cute one with little cat images on the side and a fishy on the bottom. Better still, you filled it with fresh water before you mowed the lawn. Why would your cat want your water? Ask yourself this important question. Could it be that the water you put out for your cat contains cooties?

Cooties are any icky foreign substances that find their way into your cat’s water. It could be anything: dog spit, a piece of rapidly disintegrating cat food or even a clump of cat hair (where would we find that!) Cats do not like cooties in their water. Many cats prefer running water since it tends to sweep cooties away.

To avoid a suddenly wet lap try moving your cat’s water bowl away from their food bowl so crunchies don’t fall in while they’re eating. Wash the bowl with soap frequently to kill germs and kill that pink pond scum that likes to grow on the bowl. If you have the money, consider investing in a fountain that recycles the water. These are great for even the fussiest cats.
cat cat comedy

You Can't Keep A Fat Cat Off Broadway

2007-03-19T11:29:00.000-04:00

Hemmingway. He’s big, he’s brown and he performs Broadway musicals twice a day in my kitchen. (You thought your cat was talented.) Hemmy, as he is better known, is a Maine Coon mix that wandered up on my front porch some years ago. His loving personality made him an instant favorite. When no owners surfaced after an extensive search, we were delighted to call him the newest member of our family. We took him to the vet for all the basics: shots, neutering and worming. We bought him a collar and welcomed him into the very corners of our lives.

But a problem soon arose. Despite the vet worming him and my subsequent efforts, his belly remained bloated. I grew concerned. Perhaps there was some sort of blockage. After all, he was a stray. We could only guess at his history. Back to the vet we went. Frowning, Dr. Griffin poked at Hemmy’s stomach and announced that a sonogram was in order. I felt cold when Dr. Griffin called us back to discuss the results. After a bit of dancing around the point, we came to it: Hemmy was fat.

Dear God! A fat cat in my house! That would never do. Off to the big box pet supply retailer we went armed with a checkbook determined to destroy feline belly fat. We bought diet food to cut calories and toys to stimulate play.

Hemmy does not eat food. He vacuums it into his belly at Mach speeds. We decided the best course of action would be to split his daily allowance into portions and feed him twice a day. We knew that if we fed him the full portion all at once that he would eat it immediately and be hungry later. We started with large portions and slowly trimmed him down to the amount recommended by our vet. Hemmy raved and protested the changes but he lost weight.

Now, many years later, Hemmy maintains a healthy weight. We still feed him two servings a day of a top quality food. He likes the food. He does not like the limited quantity.

One unexpected side effect is that twice a day there is a miniature production in my house where Hemmy plays the starring role of a poor, neglected brown cat on the brink of starvation. He’s very convincing. A well-known Broadway producer recently contacted us regarding Hemmy’s abilities. He is working on an upcoming show with a role similar to the one Hemmy is currently performing, and he heard that Hemmy works for peanuts (well, cat food, but you get the idea). After some debate, we turned down the role. We were afraid the stress of life on Broadway might cause Hemmy to regain his lost weight.

However, Hemmy still gives two performances a day in my kitchen. For anyone wishing to attend one the begging…er, I mean acting, typically begins about two hours before the actual feeding time so there are plenty of opportunities to catch Hemmy in action. For ticket information, please call 404-555-4816.

cat cat comedy

How To Hold a Cat (Cat Approved!)

2007-02-27T21:03:00.000-05:00

It is rare to find a cat who enjoys being held. This is due to two factors. First, it is not natural. Wild cats spend their whole nine lives on their own four paws unless they are being carried by a predator. Since this usually means they are about to be eaten, cats religiously try to avoid being held. Second, the way in which many of us pick up and hold a cat causes them to feel insecure or even to experience pain.

With a bit of practice it’s easy to help even the most reticent cat feel more at ease when being held. Follow these steps and you’ll be on your way to kitty snuggles in no time.

When you pick your cat up use two hands and be gentle. Never, ever put your hands under your cat’s ribs or stomach to pick him up. Instead, place one hand on the back of his front legs and another under his butt on his back legs. Lift him smoothly. No one likes to be snatched.

Next, transfer his front paws to your shoulder. Use your near side hand to scratch his ears. This will calm and steady him. Use your opposite hand to support his weight. Always place this hand under his back paws. He will feel like he has control and stability this way, much like he is laying on the branch of a tree.

While he is on your shoulder, keep him calm by scratching his ears and talking softly to him. Never make a “shhh” sound. He’ll think you’re hissing and that’s counterproductive, especially when his claws and teeth are so close to your face. Keep the initial sessions short. Hold your cat only a few seconds until his confidence grows.

The dismount is the most important part. With support under the legs like you did when you lifted him, gently set your cat on the floor. Never drop your cat even if he can land on his feet. Pay attention to this next step. If you allow your cat to immediately dart away you’ve made no progress. Gently put pressure on his shoulder or hold him under his front legs with one hand while scratching him with your other hand. When you feel him completely relax, let go, but keep petting for a few more seconds. Don’t be afraid to offer a few treats. Cats can be bought – but not cheaply so consider offering a few pieces of chicken and skip the dry crunchies you bought at the grocery store.

Continue practicing and gradually lengthening the time you hold your cat. By following these steps you can gain your cat’s confidence. I don’t promise that your cat will love to be held, only that you can improve his attitude towards it. Remember, there may come a time in your cat’s life, such as in an emergency, where you will need to be able to hold him. Practice when he is healthy and in a safe environment could save his life! And for the non-emergencies there’s no better remedy for a bad day than a purr-filled snuggle when you return home.

cat cat comedy

What Holding A Cat is All About

2007-02-27T16:48:00.000-05:00

For the last eight years, I have worked as a professional pet sitter. For a portion of that time, I was a college student. Once I earned my degree, I said goodbye to the world of professional pet sitting and sat down at an office desk. Desks are not nearly as interesting as animals and with-in just a few months I found myself organizing keys and heading back out to be with my four-legged friends. I loved it so much that I bought the company I had worked for and dedicated my every day to pet sitting.

During my years, I have often heard the same questions from my clients: “Why does my cat throw up? Why won’t he use the litter box? What do I do when I move my cats? How will they react?” Not only did my clients have the same questions, I noticed many of them making the same mistakes: they were unsure or afraid to give pills, they put food and water bowls beside litter boxes and worst, they could not distinguish the difference between medical conditions and behavioral problems.

I decided to begin recording the answers to some of these questions here so that others might benefit from what I have learned through my years of pet sitting and cat ownership. I am not a vet and I have had no formal training with animals, but I can offer paws-on experience and a lot of humor to see you through some of the basics of living with a cat.

I hope that if you do not find the answers you are looking for that you will email me with your questions. There are many topics to be addressed but I welcome the challenge of a few more!

cat cat comedy