It’s a bit of a paradox.
While it really doesn’t feel like five years have passed since I adopted a tiny gray kitten who quickly took over my home and my heart, sometimes I find it difficult to remember what life was like B.B., or Before Bud.
Buddy is a presence.
Of my cat-minion friends, most serve timid kitties who are experts at making themselves scarce. Some hide so well when guests are over, you’d never know a feline lives in the house. Only a few scattered toys or the presence of a litter box gives them away.
With Buddy there’s never any doubt a cat lives in my his home.
Like a dog, Buddy comes running any time there’s a knock on the door, standing beside me and sizing up visitors. He loves Halloween. He likes meeting new people and revels in attention. From his many perches he keeps watch over the neighborhood like a nosy Italian grandmother who knows everything about everyone in a three-block radius.
He also makes a lot of noise, to the point where I don’t have to look up from what I’m doing to know what he’s up to and where he is. If it’s quiet, that means he’s taking a nap.
I don’t do anything without Buddy getting involved somehow or supervising, and there can never, ever be a closed door between us or it becomes armageddon around here.
Over the past year or so I’ve learned I’m decent at writing amusing anecdotes about the little guy, but one thing I’m lousy at is expressing what he means to me. That’s not a surprise, since I’m terrible at expressing my love and gratitude for the people closest to me in life, nevermind the cats.
Suffice to say the inspiration for all these stories about vast catnip empires and the voice behind the world’s worst advice column is a loyal, endlessly amusing cat tiger with a big heart. And while he may not be “sweet” by traditional kitteh standards and he doesn’t like to be held, he signals his affection in other ways, like grooming my hair and falling asleep in my lap, where he feels safe.
Now that the saccharine stuff is out of the way, let’s end this post with matters of true import: His Grace has decreed that any and all gifts should come in the form of turkey, including but not limited to turkey meaty sticks, turkey moist treats and turkey-themed toys. Send them to Buddy, King of Mew York. The post office will know where to direct them.
Happy birthday, little man!
Pain In The Bud 
Here’s to Buddy, King of the Cat-castle!
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Happy birthday to His Excellency King Buddy!
May it rain turkeys for a week!!
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Raining turkeys? That would be heaven for Buddy!
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Many thanks, Yosey! He shall raise a drumstick in your honor.
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Gizmo here: “High? Hope your daddy gave you some of the good catnip stash. Mommy is doin’ some homegrown for us this year and I can’t wait.
Do you look in the mirror and know how handsome you are? Your eyes are killer and it must be nice not having to do your hair every day. Momma says the dog beauty shop does smart animals like me too and she promised I will visit one day soon. After me, I think you are the most handsome man in all the land and I want to look like you. (except just a little more hair and maybe 2 times more pretty. You can be the smart one, OK?)
I’ve always luved thinking about bad boys and I here tell you do some crazy shit in that big old city. (I don’t have naughty parts and Momma says I can dream about anyone I want to.) I wish you lived with me instead of that stupid female.
I hear you’re a climber. I love climbing trees but don’t go up as far as I did last year. Momma cuts my toe claws short so I don’t make the female bleed. The woman has so many rules and I try and break them all. See, country boyz can be bad boyz too.
So anyway, just wanna wish you a happy B-day and since I’m tired of turkey I will send it your way. My brother Stormy says, ‘whatever,’ and I don’t care what the female says.”
Best wishes for long cat naps and turkey dreams.
PS We have real turkeys here and they are very big and very scarey.
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A manicured and professionally groomed Gizmo? Now that I would like to see. 🙂 I don’t think I’ve ever seen a cat with as much fur as your massive Maine Coon friend.
I hope Big Gizmo is finally being nice to his little lady friend. Clawing her is not cool, big guy!
Buddy says thank you for the birthday well-wishes, and no matter how scary the turkeys are, he would like to meet them. (But I say he will scream and run in terror, ’cause he’s no tough guy.)
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Sophia, Trouble and the orange bowling ball Stanley send a big shout out from Atlanta. But sadly, Trouble found your gifts, had a midnight feast and is snoozing in the cat tree. Happy Birthday to you oh Cat of all Cats!
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Thanks, Karen. Buddy sends his warmest regards to your trio of troublemakers!
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Happy Birthday Bud, I wish you many turkey treats and dreams of chasing turkey through green meadows
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Hey Tonia! Glad you found the new site. May the turkey be with you!
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I wish you so many happy returns that the Guinness Book of Records will be pawsitively flabbergasted.
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