For Sale?


Mrrrooowwww? There is a FOR SALE sign in front of my house and, while I am certainly overdue for upgraded living quarters, I am peeved that I’ve not yet been consulted about my future residence. On several occasions I’ve overheard my lady person reference ‘dream home’ this and ‘dream home’ that. Not to be outdone, my manperson will then chime in with his own ‘dream home’ wishes.

But has anyone bothered to ask me what my ‘dream home’ requires? Of course not! Therefore, I must have my cattorney issue my demands in formal fashion to those who intend to choose our next home without input from me.

For the record, my two primary requirements are:
- Windowsills that are at least 10” in width.
- Dining accommodations in at least 3 locations within the home (this may or may not be related to the need for 10” windowsills).

I’ve also heard murmurings that, after the move to our new home, a dog will be invited to join us. I fear my feline rights to a comfortable lifestyle are in dire jeopardy and I can’t wait to hear what my my cattorney has to say about that!

But Nobody Asked Me!!

Meee-SayItIsn’t-Soooww! There are subtle murmurings occurring around my house that are causing me tremendous concern: it seems my ladyperson and manperson are contemplating the acquisition of … it's so hard to say the word … {{Ugh}} A DOG!!

Did they not learn their lesson with their first attempt at trying to civilize a canine? It simply cannot be done! So why would anyone want to bring such a beast into their home? I can list on my paws and yours the many indiscretions a dog is inclined to partake of and I’ve yet to meet one who knows the first thing about commanding his people.

Cross your fingers that the conversations about a potential new housemate are simply more of the foolish ramblings my ladyperson and manperson are prone to spew forth. Stay tuned…

Whaaat?

You've never seen a cat sitting on a chair before??

♥ Purrrrrrrr, indeed! ♥



I don't know who this spectacular feline is but I MUST find her number! Does she know how to catch a gentleman's eye or what??!

As if There were any Question ...

"The best way to get on with any cat is to treat it as an equal, or the superior it knows itself to be."
~ Elizabeth Peters


A Sort-of Public Message

Meee-yikesitsgettinghot-oowww! Please indulge me as I make a small request on behalf of my pals who aren't as lucky as me to have the indoor conveniences that I enjoy.

It's that time of year when the sun is a raging fireball and rain is increasingly scant. For my cat buds who prefer to wing it alone and not be encumbered by manservants, the changing weather means it's increasingly more difficult for them to find a cool spot to rest and an even rarer find is clean water to refresh themselves with. So, would it hurt you to keep a bowl of fresh water outside on or around your property? Preferably in a shady spot? And while you're at it, how about sprinkling out a bit of fine kibble every now and then?

While I'm happily the first in line to enjoy a good leisurely stretch & roll on sun-warmed concrete, I have the luxury of cooling off afterward in air-conditioned comfort. So, while I pay a heavy price for my luxuries (ie the constant antagonizing from my manperson coupled with the incessant chatter of my ladyperson), I can't deny that my outside-dwelling counterparts pay a hefty price of their own.

So, do your part. After all, to quote the (obviously very wise) ladyperson Faith Resnick: "People that hate cats will come back as mice in their next life".

Getting Away(?)

Meeeee-they-have-no-idea-ooowwww! My manperson and ladyperson went off on another of their weekend jaunts that they refer to as 'getting away'. First of all, I'd like to know exactly WHAT they are pretending to 'get away' from. Their lives seem rather boring and uneventful and I am certain that tending to my needs is the only bright spot in their day.
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Nonetheless, I appreciate their scheduled disappearances because it gives me a chance to entertain my own friends without interruption. And entertain I did! The bubbly flowed and the feline cuties danced their dainty paws off! Afterward, I saw to it that there remained no evidence of my revelry so as to not tip off they who pay the mortgage. Trust me: if my ladyperson knew of the festivities, she'd expect an invite for next time. And if my manperson knew, he'd expect financial restitution for the decreased levels in his liquor cabinet. Neither of these scenarios do I intend to endure.
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But I did have a special way of welcoming them back home: with full knowledge that they would be returning at night and to a dark house, my cat buds and I rearranged the living room furniture. The giant plant stand moved to just inside the front door produced the most amusing reaction. (They are still finding bits of fern in the carpet!) Yes, now I understand why 'getting away' is so fun!

You call that 'Vodka'??

Meeeehiccuppoowww! Perhaps this was my manperson's idea of humor, but the beverage he graciously offered me a sip of turned out to be the most vulgar-tasting spirit ever to rest on my well-trained taste buds. He calls it "vodka". I call it "Ripple in a vodka bottle". I should have known he was a fan of the unrefined brands of adult beverage. And to think I used to keep my good liquors locked in a cabinet for fear he might attempt a sip .... I see there is no need to do so now. Obviously, after years of dining upon the gruel he calls "food" his taste buds are ruined beyond repair.
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At least now I know where to go when one of my hard-living gutter cat friends shows up looking for a nightcap before resting his weary head. (They don't appreciate my fine liquors, either.)

Whew! Being a Cat can be Very Exhausting!

Meeeewhew!ooowww ... It is safe to say that you can not truly appreciate or begin to understand all of the work that goes into being a cat. Please indulge me while I detail for you just a few of my many workday duties:
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* I must visit every pillow in the house at least twice to test its fluffiness.
* I'm obligated to remove any tasty remnants from dishes that might have been left in the sink from the night before.
* For security measures, I must spend at least 3 hours perched on the sunniest windowsill of the house to thwart off any potential break-ins from neighborhood birds.
* In must make certain I am visable through windows on the front side of the house to remind neighborhood dogs that they are outside in the cold and I am inside where it is warm.
* I meticulously bathe from eartip to the end of my tail: I'll start on my ladyperson's side of the bed, eventually migrating to the sofa. And I ALWAYS finish my bath in the manperson's Lazy-Boy recliner.
* I must empty my chowchow bowl and practice my weakest and most pitiful cry so I am ready to admonish my ladyperson the instant she walks in the door at 5:00.
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So?! You think you could do it? I think not!!


Meeeeefreakinoowww!! I don't know what the deal is, but my manperson and ladyperson appear completely ignorant to the fact that it is C-O-L-D this time of year. How do I know? They refuse to increase the heat in the house! Either they are too 'economically challenged' to pay a higher heating bill or senility has finally crept in and they can no longer tell cold from warm. Regardless, IT IS COLD IN MY HOUSE!! You'd think my ladyperson would catch on since she awakens each moning to find me sleeping ON HER FACE. And one would think that wiping cat hairs from one's eyes each morning would be a tad bit annoying but - well, we are talking about MY cat hairs so ... never mind! I'm certain she feels lucky!

Happy Halloween, Kiddo's!

MeeeBOOooowww! Look, kids - I realize there will be oodles of you winding your way through my neighborhood on Halloween night in search of chocolates and other tasty delicacies. And eventually, one by one, each of you will end up at my residence. Regretably, I must inform you that my manperson and ladyperson will have already eaten the more delectable candies before you arrive. In fact, I suspect the only thing passed out at our home on Halloween night will be the two of them, with crumpled fun-size Snickers and Baby Ruth wrappers scattered about their feet. So if you still insist on showing up expecting treats for your little plastic jack-o-lanterns, don't say you weren't warned!

Meeeyummoowwww! Calm down .... I'm just visiting with the fishy my ladyperson calls "Catfood". He got his name because every time I visit the fishtank (just to say 'Hey' of course), Catfood rushes up to say 'Hey' back at me. My ladyperson thinks I'm planning to eat that fish but has she not noticed how small and slimy he is? Does she really think I'd ever entertain the thought of eating this commoner of a fish? Even if he were prepared with a crabmeat stuffing and sauteed in a lemon & garlic butter sauce, I simply would not consider dining upon him.
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I'm sorry, but when I think of aquatic treats for dinner, this is NOT what I have in mind....!

Could this be Love??

Meeee-ayeayeaye!-oowww! Sigh …. the lovely lady pictured above may be the daintiest, most delicate, and most scrumptious (yes, I said it!) of any feline ever in existence. I spotted her while vacationing in Louisiana and I am unable - and unwilling - to erase her image from my mind. I was unsuccessful in obtaining her contact information but am hopeful that she or her staff will see this message and a second meeting can occur.

Just look at her! Is it any wonder I am smitten??


Cat on a Mission!


MeeeTheBirdsHaveGotToGooowww! Spring is in the air! Warm breezes, fragrant blossoms, interesting insect sounds, and: the annoying, incessant chirping of birds that starts earlier and earlier each morn. To make matters worse, my ladyperson insists on sleeping with a window slightly open. It never fails: when I have sufficiently nudged my ladyperson and manperson to the edges of the bed so I can comfortably recline in the middle section and I am just getting settled into my deepest of sleep, the chirping begins. And don't humor me by calling it 'singing': I've not heard such racket in any symphony hall I've visited!

So, I have decided to hunt the little critters down and one-by-one, 'encourage' them to vacate my property. While I am not one to dine on simple neighborhood fowl, I have more than one feline acquaintance lacking the selective palate I enjoy.

So chirp on, birdies! But don't say you weren't warned...


Green Beer ... Never Again!!!

Meeeohmyachingheadoowww! I hosted a Saint Paddy's Day party last night and I am indeed paying today for last night's pleasure. Hmmm ... Perhaps as a remedy, I shall recall visions of the cute little kitty waitresses dressed in flirtatious leprechaun garb ...
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Oh My! I feel better already!

Can We Talk?

Meeethiscannotcontinueoowww! Within the writings of my fellow cat authors, I have begun to notice a trend that I find quite disturbing. It seems that many of my feline literary counterparts are prone to referring to their people as their ‘pets’. It is time for me address this movement and, hopefully, put a swift end to it.
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Under no circumstances should a home owned by a cat have any reference to ‘pets’. Cats are not pets. Cats do not share their homes with pets. And we certainly do not own pets. Granted, there will most likely be people in a cat’s home. And sometimes those people acquire a dog or other such animal that they feel a need to nurture.
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But these people and their assorted tagalong animals are merely allowed to remain in our homes because they serve us well. If I did not allow my manperson and ladyperson to reside with me, I would have to employ staff to replace them. And since I am just now getting them trained almost to my standards, it would be quite foolish to bid them adieu. My manperson knows his place: he only speaks to me when spoken to and he is close to perfecting his cat massage technique. My ladyperson is well aware that her primary focus should be on my never-empty chowchow bowl and the fresh, cool water that must be available to me all hours of the day and night. So, you see, clearly they are not my pets. I prefer to think of them more as ‘my personnel’.
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And while my home, too, has been known to have a dog, please note that I refused to allow the dog to become part of my staff. She did, however, provide me with plenty of fodder for this website and a multitude of laughs with my cat pals. One might say the dog became my private entertainer. But certainly not my 'pet'!
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I will continue on my mission and may I ask? If you read or hear of a cat who identifies his people as his 'pets', please notify me. Perhaps I shall visit with the misguided feline and redirect his attitude.

Never Underestimate the Fortitude of a Cat!


MeeeeItoldyousooowww! Look very closely at the photo above …. No doubt you’ll first notice the 600-pound black bear at the top of the tree. But if you draw your sight downward, you’ll see exactly what prompted this bear’s rapid ascent. Meet Jack: the proud, 15-pound orange Tabby that is determined to keep this bear – or any other varmint, mind you – off of his property!
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As the black bear clamored up the tree trunk for safety, Jack patiently waited for him to dare to return to the ground. The bear did try, once, and Jack chased him hissing and spitting up a second tree.
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Eventually, Jack grew bored with this imbecile bear and moseyed on to more important matters, which gave the bear his opportunity to escape into neighboring woods.
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So anybody who dares to declare a cat less-effective as a guardian than a smelly hound obviously doesn’t know Jack!

67% of Pet Owners Claim to Understand Pet Woofs & Meows ... ??

Meeethisistoofunnyooww! I was catching up on my reading when this amusing little news story caught my eye: "67 Percent of Owners Claim to Understand Pet Woofs & Meows". I laughed so hard I nearly spilled my cinnamon caffe latte!! Once again, the persons of the world are desperate to believe that maybe - just maybe - they can communicate with the felines among them. While there is no question that they can communicate with dogs (how difficult could it be to comprehend dog-speak when "Woof!" can only mean, "I'm hungry" or "I want to go outside"?), cat-speak is at an entirely different level of communication.
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The article does help me to understand better why my manperson and ladyperson insist on engaging me in mundane conversations: they truly believe I'm listening! Actually, SHE more than HE: my ladyperson can go on and on and on to me about events in her own life that, quite frankly, are of zero interest to me. However, I have learned that if I reward her with a seemingly interested wide-eyed gaze and I utter a few syllables, she is satisfied and generally moves on.
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---> On a serious note, one extremely alarming portion of the news story pertains to a new trend of persons buying fewer Christmas gifts for their pets. My own manperson and ladyperson best not even consider such antics, as they are already alarmingly inept in their gift-giving skills.
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For your amusement, here are the highlights of the news story:
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"Sixty-seven percent of pet owners say they understand their animals' woofs, meows or other sounds, saying they comprehend completely. Sixty-two percent of pet owners say that when they speak, their critter gets the message. The high level of communication is but one way the poll highlights the bond between many owners and their pets.
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More women than men say they and their pets understand each other's verbal stabs at communication. , Molly Thibodeau of Fort Riley, Kansas, said her two cats understand her so completely that if she wants to shoo them off furniture, "I point at them and they get right down." On the flip side, men are twice as likely as women to say they and their pets are clueless about what each is saying to the other. "It's kind of like, 'What are you doing?'" Edwin Oto, of Moraga, California, says of his futile efforts to figure out what his dog wants when she keeps barking after he lets her into the house.
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When it comes to communicating in the other direction, cat owners do better. Twenty-five percent of them say they completely understand their cats' meows, compared with 16 percent of dog owners who claim to be totally fluent in barks. But Jane Starring, 48, of Barrington, R.I., says she and her family are confounded by their 8-year-old cat, Flannel, who often chases people about the house meowing. "We're not sure we're making much progress understanding him," said Starring. "I don't know what his point is."
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William Miller, a professor of veterinary medicine and medical director of Cornell University's Companion Animal Hospital, says it's not unusual for many owners and pets to understand some of each other's speech. He said animals and people learn to communicate verbally by over time associating certain sounds with actions, such as a particular bark when a dog wishes to go outside or the soothing tone many people use when petting their cat.
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With many households having more than one pet, 74 percent of all pet owners have a dog and 46 percent have a cat, according to the poll. Men and women were about equally likely to own either kind of animal. Twelve percent of pet owners have fish, 7 percent have birds, and 2 percent or fewer have horses, rabbits, rodents, turtles, lizards or other pets.
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---> Fifteen percent of all owners said they have scaled back spending for their pets in the past year. Of the group that is cutting back, seventy-one percent say they've thought about buying fewer toys or clothes, while 60 percent cite switching to less costly pet food. Even so, 43 percent of owners said they would buy holiday gifts for their pets, compared with 46 percent who said they had done so last year."

The Enemy has Arrived!!




Meee-theywillpay!-oowww! Do you recall my previous report regarding the canine expected to spend the holidays at my home, per an unapproved-by-me agreement between my ladyperson and an acquaintance? You will NOT believe what has since occurred...
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On what started as a pleasant day, I arose from my late-afternoon nap (the one I take after watching ‘Jeopardy’) and proceeded to the front door to meet my ladyperson as she returned home from her workplace. Normally at such time and after an authoritative nudge from me, she tends to my food and drink needs. However on this occasion, I could hear much commotion in the garage from where my ladyperson was and I detected the scent that no cat should ever be forced to incur: D-O-G!! Even worse yet, she dared to be so bold as to bring the creature into my home without my permission. She used the flimsy excuse of thinking it would be a good idea if the horrid beast and I became acquainted prior to the impending Christmas visit.
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As you can imagine, my evening plans of relaxing while watching my favorite Animal Planet television show “It’s Me or the Dog” were instantly shattered. That infantile creature pursued me unashamedly, even when I escaped to the sanctity of my own backyard.
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And so I was reminded – once again – that my ladyperson and manperson cannot be trusted and are simply here to insert discomfort into my otherwise calm existence. But not to worry: while the smelly beast was confined to the bizarre portable dwelling that his own manperson provided for this ‘visit’, I reminded him in my own not-so-subtle nature that this was indeed my home and under no circumstances will he be allowed to return.
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If he’s a smart dog (<--- quite the oxymoron, eh?), he will advise his own manperson that he prefers to stay home for the holidays. I will keep you posted….