Buddy the Cat argues in favor of ignoring clocks, while Buddy the Cat argues that it’s very important to remain on schedule.
Schedules Are For Squares
Schedule? What are you talking about, human?
I’m a cat. Time means nothing to me. If I want to pass the days curled up in a ball snoozing contentedly, or run around like a possessed kitten while yowling at 4 am, I will. I do what I want.
Try not to get so hung up on things like schedules. The question of whether time flows like a river or exists as discreet quanta is one for the physicists and philosophers. Hakuna Katana, my friend. It means “No worries” in Japanese.
Let yourself get crazy. Bring out the laser laser and let the catnip and snacks flow freely. I’ll just hide your phone and your watch so we can enjoy ourselves.
My Meals Must Be Served Precisely On Schedule!
I knew it! I knew when the clock struck 3:57 pm and you still weren’t moving that my dinner would be late. I tried to warn you by shrieking at you at 20-second intervals, but to no avail.
I have to be honest, I just don’t see the urgency or effort on your part, and that concerns me. We have an agreement that two bowls — one with fresh water and the other with yummy wet food — will be set down in my eating nook no later than 4 pm. Not 4:33 or 4:17 or even 4:02.
FOUR O’CLOCK.
You may not think observing a strict yums schedule is important, but it is.
My body is a fine-tuned machine, human. I didn’t get this tigeresque physique by playing fast and loose with the rules, or by delaying the ingestion of crucial proteins and nutrients.
Do better.
Point-Counterpoint presents two essays taking opposing positions on a topic. Join us next week, when Buddy the Cat will debate Buddy the Cat on another important topic.
An experimental new drug offers hope for cats infected with FIPV, which is almost always fatal.
Anae Evangelista was reeling from the deaths of two close friends when she saw Parsnip in a local shelter’s online post.
The 21-year-old college student had been thinking of getting a cat for weeks after accompanying a friend to a local shelter. After checking the shelter’s adoptable pets again, she fell in love with an adorable tabby with a clipped ear and sky blue eyes and immediately made plans to see her in San Diego.
Parsnip took to Evangelista immediately.
“She was so affectionate, pushing her head into my hand for pets, and I knew she was the one,” Evangelista told PITB.
Although many cats take days or weeks to adjust to their forever homes, Parsnip “strutted into my apartment as if she owned it from day one, zooming all over the place [with] enough energy to bounce off the walls,” Evangelista said.
Parsnip enjoys a snooze with toe beans on display.
Although she had a rough start to life and was rescued from a hoarding situation, Parsnip was friendly, affectionate and warmed quickly to her new home. As human and kitten became fast friends, Parsnip’s presence was an immediate boost to Evangelista’s mental health.
‘She’s been my rock,” she said, “and although she can’t talk, I feel as if she’s constantly encouraging me to stay strong.”
But after about six weeks Parsnip’s energy level took a distressing dive. She was weak, slept a lot and wouldn’t eat much. A vet visit didn’t yield any answers, and the next day Parsnip displayed more telltale signs of a seriously sick cat — she stopped eating and drinking entirely, and began eliminating outside of her litter box.
After consulting another veterinarian, Evangelista finally had an answer. Little Parsnip was suffering from Feline infectious peritonitis, a more virulent strain of feline coronavirus that infects white blood cells resulting in dangerous inflammation, per the Cornell Feline Health Center.
“An intense inflammatory reaction to FIPV occurs around vessels in the tissues where these infected cells locate, often in the abdomen, kidney, or brain,” according to Cornell. “It is this interaction between the body’s own immune system and the virus that is responsible for the development of FIP.”
The disease is “usually progressive and almost always fatal without therapy.”
But there’s hope for Parsnip: With the help of her veterinarian and an online group for people whose cats have FIPV, Evangelista was able to get her kitty accepted for experimental treatment with GS-441524, a nucleoside analogue antiviral drug that has proven effective at treating all types of FIP in several trials in recent years. (It’s been so effective, in fact, that Chinese pharmaceutical manufacturers have been supplying GS-441524 on the black market to cat caretakers who haven’t been able to get their cats into trials.)
Since starting the treatment, Parsnip’s responded well: She’s eating again, the swelling has been in retreat, and she’s once again interested in play time, exploring and other things cats love to do. She’s even able to hop up on the couch again.
That’s a far cry from her condition just three weeks ago when she had a 105-degree fever, no interest in things around her and couldn’t get up under her own power.
The 84-day treatment, subsequent vet visits, monitoring and blood work is expensive: Evangelista estimates it’ll cost her about $5,000 in total. She’s looking to raise half that amount via a GoFundMe. It’s a huge expense, especially for a college student, but for Evangelista, spending the money is without question.
“She’s been my foundation and she deserves the world,” she said, “so I want to give her the chance to live to see it.”
Hes doing what cats do best: Following the red dot.
According to the legend of the “Panther of Kharkiv,” a vengeful house cat has been using his superior feline vision to spot the telltale red laser dots from sniper scopes and warn Ukrainian soldiers they’re targets before snipers can get off a shot.
I imagine it goes something like this:
“Dude, there’s a red dot on your face.”
“You said that 42 times in the last hour.”
“Well, it’s true. Give me my treat as a reward, otherwise I might forget to inform you next time.”
“If I find out you’re lying…”
“Treat, now! Thanks…Mmmm, that’s good. Oh look, there’s another red dot on your head! Quick, take cover and give me another snack!”
Either that or kitty is just launching himself at Ukrainian foreheads, chasing the ever elusive red dot.
Of course you don’t need us to tell you this viral social media story is nonsense, do you?
Mmmmm, Elmer’s!
Hundreds of thousands of people have proven themselves more credulous, and continue to share the Panther of Kharkiv posts on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Youtube, TikTok and other platforms despite warnings that the story isn’t true. The accompanying photo, while real, is from 2018.
“Complete garbage,” is how Liam Collins, a West Point faculty member and former defense advisor to Ukraine, put it.
Psy-ops have long been a part of war, from Alexander the Great’s armies leaving giant-size helmets and breastplates in the ruins of conquered cities to seed tales of impossible huge — and unbeatable — Greek invaders, to a CIA-devised plan to drop condoms on Soviet territory.
“Condoms?!?” you ask. “How exactly do condoms help a war effort?”
Because they were intentionally manufactured in ludicrously huge sizes marked “Medium” and “Small” with “MADE IN USA” prominently stamped on the packaging, which would be left for the enemy to discover and, the thinking went, to kill their morale. (There are also reports that US psyops left footlong condoms on the Ho Chi Minh trail in Vietnam, leading terrified Vietcong to hide their women.)
And, famously, US Army psyops drove around in up-armored Humvees during 2004’s bloody battle of Fallujah, blasting the South Park creators’ “America, F— Yeah!” from military sound systems as Marines engaged insurgent forces.
The point is to raise friendly morale, destroy enemy morale, or both, and it makes perfect sense that psyops would move into the digital domain in a war in which cyber warfare has become a major part of the hostilities.
The Panther of Kharkiv, like tall tales of wars past, collapses under scrutiny.
As Snopes correctly notes, snipers don’t actually use little red laser dots. Not only would they be counter-productive at the distances snipers work, when things like atmospheric conditions and wind speed come into play, but using lasers would alert the enemy that they’re being targeted and give away the location of the sniper(s).
The entire point of a sniper is to take out targets over long distances without giving themselves away. They’re not equipped for routine firefights, and the last thing they want is to be stuck somewhere relying on a sidearm while riflemen flank them. That’s asking to get killed.
The second absurdity is the idea that cats can be reliably trained to do anything of military value. The CIA already tried that in the 1960s with Project Acoustic Kitty, when they outfitted cats with listening devices and released them in the vicinity of Soviet targets in an attempt to eavesdrop on their conversations.
Twenty million dollars, a few years and several failed attempts later, the CIA concluded training cats as spies was “not practical.” The problem, of course, is that you can train cats all you want, and maybe the cats even have the best intentions, but then…Oh hai is that a bird? Is that a bird? Yes, it is! I’m chasing the bird! Wait, birdie! Oooh, what’s this on the ground? A bag with a half-eaten burger? How delicious! …
Cats are easily distracted, easily bored, driven to do their own thing, and not really open to suggestions when it comes to telling them where they should walk or lounge.
The Panther of Kharkiv joins The Ghost of Kyiv as a creation of social media, wish-fulfillment figures of legend for the age of information. The latter has been earning praise as a supposed ace fighter pilot who has been terrorizing Russian Su-35 pilots from the cockpit of a Soviet-era MiG-29.
A surprisingly realistic video of the legendary pilot has been making the rounds on social media, but the footage is actually from Digital Combat Simulator (DCS) World, a game made by developers so obsessive that they even model things like the effect of recoil from mounted guns on aircraft operation.
In the viral video, a Su-35 screams overhead as two Ukranians chatter in the background. A shaky camera tracks the jet until a missile fired from out of the frame blasts it to pieces. The MiG-29 follows a millisecond later, dipping its wings in a celebratory gesture as one of the observers says “Oh shit!”
When a simulator looks like this, it’s easier to understand how people could mistake out-of-context, long-range footage for the real thing:
Now if you put a cat in that footage, wearing goggles and flying wing, people would know it’s fake. On second thought, maybe they wouldn’t.
“It’s clear the Queen loves Lord Buddy and values his counsel dearly. As a generous monarch, she’s able to reward his loyalty in ways commoners are simply unable.”
Feeling the loss of her husband, Prince Phillip, and celebrating her first Christmas without him in more than 70 years, Queen Elizabeth II turned to her friend, Sir Buddy, for friendship over the holidays.
Now she’s elevated the friendly tabby cat, creating him the 1st Earl of Budderset, a new peerage conceived specifically in his honor. Sir Buddy will henceforth be known as Lord Buddy, enjoying all the privileges and prestige that come with being a member of the British aristocracy. He’ll also enjoy the alternate style Count Buddy of Budderset.
“This is an unprecedented honor not only for a feline, but for anyone,” said Gavin Northbridge, a royal observer and author of Your Highness: The Royal Family’s Favorite Marijuana Strains. “It’s clear the Queen loves Lord Buddy and values his counsel dearly. As a generous monarch, she’s able to reward his loyalty in ways commoners are simply unable.”
The elevation in ranks entitles Buddy to London apartments as well as a country estate in Budderset. Buddington House, the new ancestral home of the Buddinese clan, boasts 68 rooms and no doors, as well as amenities including prime window perches, sisal-wrapped couches and a staff of 11 to see to Lord Buddy’s needs.
“His Lordship is a kind employer,” said Snarls Carson, Buddington House’s butler. “All of the servants, including the maids, footman, valet and chef, love working for His Lordship and maintaining Buddington House as the grand estate it’s meant to be.”
Mrs. Catmore, the resident chef at Buddington House, said the Earl is a “demanding lord,” but she’s honored to serve such an important role in his household.
“Orders for snacks are constantly coming from upstairs,” Mrs. Catmore said. “Me and Daisy can barely keep up. If this continues, we’re going to have to hire another girl. His Lordship needs his snacks!”
A statue of Earl Buddy, First Earl of Budderset, on the grounds of Budderset House. Credit: Wikimedia Commons
Lord Buddy is also bringing new twists to the old traditions of British aristocracy. While small game hunting has been one of the preferred leisure time sporting activities of the nobility, the Earl of Budderset has introduced a new game: Instead of hunting foxes, the participants hunt the hounds who would normally help them flush out foxes, pheasants and quail.
The Earl’s version of the hunt also eschews firearms in favor of Super Soakers, and instead of doing physical harm to the dogs, the participants capture and then insult their quarry, with prizes awarded to those who deploy the cleverest insults.
By throwing lavish feasts known for magnificent wine and tables laden with turkey of all flavors and variety, His Lordship has become popular in London society circles, according to royal expert Thomas J. Mace Archer-Mills, Esq.
“The Earl is on the tip of every tongue from Kensington Gardens to Piccadilly Cirus,” said Mace Archer-Mills, author of Royal Bakeology: The Queen’s Favorite Biscuits.
With Lord Buddy’s rapid ascent to knighthood and earldom, some royal observers speculate the queen’s favorite cat could yet climb to even more lofty heights. In the fallout from Prince Andrew’s association with the late disgraced billionaire Jeffrey Epstein — and a civil settlement with one of his accusers — the former royal’s royal patronage and military titles have been vacated, and he’s no longer entitled to styles of address like “His Royal Highness.”
That could open more doors for Lord Buddy.
“Is a future Duke Buddy in the cards? One mustn’t be too hasty with assumptions,” said Devon Camden Dankworth, author of Grand Tyromancy: The Royal Family’s Secret History of Cheese Divination. “But given his lordship’s meteoric rise and the favor he enjoys with the queen and future king, one would be a fool if one were to dismiss the possibility.”
Buddy the cat argues it’s no big deal to walk on your face, human, while Buddy the cat argues it’s an outrage that you disrupt his beauty rest!
Disrupting My Sleep Is Really Rude! by Buddy the Cat, columnist.
Hey! Not cool, dude! I was sleeping and you woke me up by sitting on the other side of the couch! And yesterday I was napping on your keyboard, trying to make up sleep after only getting 12 hours the day before, when you picked me up and placed me on your bed, mumbling some sort of lame apology about how you have to do “work.”
Is it too much to ask for a little consideration around here? Is it too much to ask that you put off nature’s call for a mere three or four hours when I fall asleep in your lap? I’m not asking for much!
The next time you’re tempted to disturb my beauty rest, ask yourself how you’d feel if I did the same thing to you!
Is It Not Reasonable To Walk On Your Face While You Sleep? by Buddy the Cat, columnist
What? Why are you being so dramatic? So I walked on your face and screeched into your ear. What’s the big deal?
I was hungry. I wanted breakfast. The whims of my appetite must always come before your “need” for sleep.
I don’t know if you realize this, human, but you are very comfortable to lounge, sleep, walk and bounce on. I find my creative powers are heightened to their utmost when I’m laying on top of you, keeping you locked into an uncomfortable position while you’re willing to allow your limbs to fall asleep for my comfort.
Is that not the crux of our relationship, anyway? You feed me, take care of me, groom me, entertain me and pick up after me, in exchange for being in my delightful company, yes? It could be argued that allowing me to sleep on you and walk on your face is but a basic part of your duties as a servant.
Now let us discuss the idea of a turkey dispenser next to your my bed…
Point-Counterpoint presents two essays taking opposing positions on a topic. Join us again next week, when Buddy the Cat will debate Buddy the Cat on another important topic.
Schedule? What are you talking about, human?
Hey! Not cool, dude! I was sleeping and you woke me up by sitting on the other side of the couch! And yesterday I was napping on your keyboard, trying to make up sleep after only getting 12 hours the day before, when you picked me up and placed me on your bed, mumbling some sort of lame apology about how you have to do “work.”
Pain In The Bud 