June 01, 2014

How much canned food does an adult cat need per day?

Question: How much food do I have to feed to meet an adult cat's daily requirements? I've read on your site about the importance of canned food, but couldn't find anything to tell me how many cans a day I should feed my cat.

Read Full Post

How much canned food does an adult cat need per day? originally appeared on About.com Cats on Sunday, June 1st, 2014 at 21:20:37.

Permalink | Comment | Email this

May 31, 2014

Cat Picture of the Week: Jackson

Jackson, a handsome tuxedo cat about five years old is the fourth and last Cat Picture of the Week for May 2014.

Read Full Post

Cat Picture of the Week: Jackson originally appeared on About.com Cats on Saturday, May 31st, 2014 at 19:20:08.

Permalink | Comment | Email this

May 28, 2014

New Review: How to Make Your Cat an Internet Celebrity

I have a cat in mind who would make a terrific Internet star. So when a publicist offered a free review copy of "How to Make Your Cat an Internet Celebrity," I eagerly accepted.

Read Full Post

New Review: How to Make Your Cat an Internet Celebrity originally appeared on About.com Cats on Wednesday, May 28th, 2014 at 18:04:18.

Permalink | Comment | Email this

May 27, 2014

Breed of the Week: Manx

The first cat I had as a teenager was a Manx, imaginatively named Bobby.

Read Full Post

Breed of the Week: Manx originally appeared on About.com Cats on Tuesday, May 27th, 2014 at 05:41:23.

Permalink | Comment | Email this

June Features Adopted Shelter Cats

June is less than a week away, and for the month of June we focus on adopted shelter cats, such as the beauty shown below, Lucy. We will honor adopted shelter cats in June by the selection of one each week as the Cat Picture of the Week.

Read Full Post

June Features Adopted Shelter Cats originally appeared on About.com Cats on Tuesday, May 27th, 2014 at 02:00:55.

Permalink | Comment | Email this

May 26, 2014

Happy Birthday, Gaither!

My youngest cat, Gaither, turns one year old today. We adopted him and another tuxedo kitten, Sage, at a Petco Adoption Day Event on October 12, 2013, and we adored them immediately, and they are both more endearing every day.

Read Full Post

Happy Birthday, Gaither! originally appeared on About.com Cats on Monday, May 26th, 2014 at 23:04:25.

Permalink | Comment | Email this

Help Your Cat Beat the Heat

It's 92 degrees fahrenheit on our deck as I write. Much too hot for any cat to be outside, as heatstroke can be the result.

Read Full Post

Help Your Cat Beat the Heat originally appeared on About.com Cats on Monday, May 26th, 2014 at 12:23:09.

Permalink | Comment | Email this

May 25, 2014

Cat Picture of the Week: Bandit

Handsome five year old tuxedo cat Bandit is our third Cat Picture of the Week for May, 2014.

Read Full Post

Cat Picture of the Week: Bandit originally appeared on About.com Cats on Sunday, May 25th, 2014 at 11:01:09.

Permalink | Comment | Email this

Memorial Day Weekend 2014

For almost 100 years, Memorial Day was celebrated on May 30th, but it was called "Decoration Day." At that time it was focused on the Civil War, but shortly after WWI, according to Kennedy Hickman, our About.com Military History Guide, "it was expanded to include those Americans who had fallen in all conflicts." You can read much more about the history of Memorial Day on Kennedy's Web Site.

...

Read Full Post

May 23, 2014

The Difference Between Cat Hair and Cat Fur

I personally never thought much about the difference between cat fur and cat hair until a reader asked me one day.

Read Full Post

The Difference Between Cat Hair and Cat Fur originally appeared on About.com Cats on Friday, May 23rd, 2014 at 01:33:40.

Permalink | Comment | Email this

May 31, 2012

 
I was looking at old pictures and kind of miss the blog. Then I went to make a post and it was all messed up with google account and the email address I don't have anymore. Anyway I am trying a post and maybe I will do this again.

May 08, 2012

Tabby Tuesday

I was snoozing in the sunshine and Mama kept taking photos.  You can see by my ears that I am a little bit annoyed but I knew if I hid my pretty little face she would eventually go away and I could nap.

Well it worked.  She did.  She wasn’t happy with the pictures though so then she started doctoring them up.  Aren’t I pretty enough all on my own Mama?

May 07, 2012

Meezer Mancat Monday

My friends Calle, Halle and Sukki said that I could be their little brother.  I think I will do that.  What do you think?  I like them because they are very pretty.   Chey is laughing cause she says I look like them.  She says I must be a pretty boy.

She doesn’t know how tough I am.  I should go sit on her head.

September 12, 2011

Goodnight, sweet prince

Dear friends,I am sad to have to tell you that Aloysius passed away on Friday, September 9, 2011. He had been healthy up until this summer, but then was diagnosed with kidney failure. Still, he survived for a few weeks, and was able to prowl about and chase chipmunks in his garden. We miss him very much. I know he would have loved to have heard the greetings that he has already received today,

July 31, 2011

Hello!

I'm sorry to be absent from the blog world. It got to be a chore and I needed a break.

We've been really busy the last few months. We moved out of the waterfront house and into the foreclosure. We are hoping to sell the big house soon, it's been really hard with 2 bills for everything!

Work is busy for both of us, and we feel blessed to be working.

The cats and Sissy are all doing good. Sissy had her birthday on Friday.
She is a wonderful little dog and my constant little companion.



I miss everyone here, maybe I can get back to blogging when things calm down a little.
Heck, it's been so long that I doubt anyone will even see this post. :)

February 24, 2011

Moving Foward

Its sad to say that while Avram and I have enjoyed keeping this blog, life moves too fast for us to keep detailed posts up about the boys and share all their wonderful antics and adventures. But fear not we are not disappearing into the ether, we are just changing the format just a little bit. Instead of updating the blog, we will be updating the boys very own facebook fan page where everyone who wants to can keep up to date with their daily doings :)

We hope to see you there :)
~Liz

September 24, 2010

Litter for a Cause

World's Best Cat Litter (the only litter we use and recommend to everyone with a cat) sent us an email spotlighting a very wonderful program where cat litter is being donated to help shelters in Los Angeles provide for their feline charges. I'm happy to spread the word and ask that everyone spread the word and click on the graphic above or go to the facebook page and vote. Every time you vote more litter is donated so please spread the word and vote often!

September 12, 2010

My gotcha day!

I've been ruling the house here for eight years now, and I have never stopped learning how to surprise my humans. Most recently, I learned how to get over the fence. All I have to do is get up in that tree, and I can go catting around down the block.I was able to get up there--despite the fact that my previous human had me declawed. I used the lawn furniture as a ladder.But now they've moved

December 18, 2007

And a Friday in a pear tree...

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!

December 10, 2007

Kitten Under (In) the Christmas Tree


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!



October 02, 2007

The Laughing Cat Edition 3

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!

September 28, 2007

It's Coming!


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!

September 25, 2007

Boredom Leads to Cat House

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!

September 18, 2007

The Laughing Cat Edition 2!


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!

September 02, 2007

The Biggest Challenge

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.



August 27, 2007

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


“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.

August 10, 2007

Where did all the cats go?



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!

August 07, 2007

Kitiara Triumphant!


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?

Announcement: The Laughing Cat Edition 2

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!

July 31, 2007

The Laughing Cat Carnival


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!

July 25, 2007

Build Your Own Cat Toy -- No Skills Required!

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.


July 24, 2007

Cat Claws and Furniture Just Don't Mix



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...

July 20, 2007

7 Strange Things About Me

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!

July 12, 2007

The Laughing Cat Carnival

 
Posted by Picasa

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



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!

July 03, 2007

Cats on Vacation


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…


June 20, 2007

Tummy Time!



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.

Toy Mice are More Fun


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!

June 14, 2007

A Bird in the Chimney is Worth Less Than Two Outside

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!

June 07, 2007

Not All People Suck


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!

June 06, 2007

Gack! Hairballs!

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.

June 04, 2007

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

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!