If you’re not feeling the love, you can always head to your local shelter and donate to have a cat neutered in the name of your ex!
Happy Valentine’s Day from the Buddies! Buddy Cupid, or Bupid, is currently flying around with his little bow and heart arrows, wondering why they can’t be used to shoot turkey.
He’ll figure it out soon enough, although knowing him, he’ll use his arrows to make people fall in love with him so he has an entire army of infatuated humans who would love nothing more than to feed him and cuddle him.
We hope you’re all having a great day and that you’re able to spend time with the people and pets you love most in this world.
And hey, if you’re not feeling the love, you can take the opportunity to participate in one of the many “Neuter Your Ex” promotions happening at cat shelters in Portland, Baltimore, New Jersey, Michigan and even Saskatchewan. For between $25 and $50, depending on the shelter, you’ll be given the opportunity to name a feline after the person you’d like to see, uh, fixed, and help reduce the stray cat population as a result. It’s win-win, except maybe for the person you’re imagining getting the snip.
Buddy, aka Graybeard, has departed for his annual adventure on the high seas aboard his ship, the Fowl Play. He really gets into talking like a pirate.
Ahoy, me hearties!
Tis that time of year when I depart the frigid coasts of me headquarters of New York bound for the pirate heaven of Somalia! ‘Tis tradition ever since me Big Buddy temporarily sold me to pirates for a hoard of booty an a jest and I spent a season learnin’ the life of a cat-o-the-sea.
Havin’ obtained me all the plunder I could carry, I returned to New York in time for the spring, rich in gold and the vocabulary of a true privateer. (And a proper cutlass too, though truth be told it were redundant with me sharp claws.) Ye landlubbers were mighty surprised!
So now I be known as Graybeard and my ship, the Fowl Play, is the Scourge o’ the Seas, makin’ sailors tremble in their boots at the sight o’ me mast with a big hulkin’ tiger eatin’ a plump turkey.
“Ahoy! Land ho! Be prepared to drop anchor, all hands to the poop deck!”
Ahoy! ‘Tis many an incautious feline captain who met the watery grave of Davy Jones’ locker fer understimatin’ the Foul Play, tis it true. Many a red ensign me plunder for the rum, many a seadog know the name o’ Ol’ Graybeard an heard it true me put a shot across they bow!
Them sons o’ biscuit eaters become sharkbait if they underestimate Graybeard, so ye better strike colors an succumb to the inevitable — that Buddy’ll strike anchor, invite hisself aboard ye vessels and help hisself to the prime booty!
Only problem is, not a spot o’ turkey to be had on the high seas, so I have me men squib the deck, get the Fowl Play shipshape and make port often to keep the turkey larders topped up for the galley, ye savvy? Anyone who raid me turkey stash be playin’ with Jack Ketch and be sure to feed the fish, if ye catch me drift!
Avast me, ol’ Graybeard’s adventures on the high seas will continue till I find the legendary pieces of eight or the grog strike me with a clap o’ thunder, I always say.
Fer legend has it that there be an island where turkeys have eight wings, each more delicious than the last, and it be Graybeard’s obsession to find this isle o’ wonders. Just imagine how awesome it would be! Arrrr…belay that! Put it in yer mind that Graybeard’ll be rich in plunder and turkey if the mythical isle be found!
I have me pigeon here who’ll carry me dispatches back to that landlubber Big Buddy, so he can continue the bloggin’ an apprise ye buckos of me adventures. Until such time as the Fowl Play make port, I’d advise ye stay off the shippin’ lanes between the kingdom and the Caribbean.
Yer captain,
Buddy
Pictured: Captain Graybeard on the deck of the Fowl Play.
If I could make my cat understand one thing, it’s that he is a chubby 11-lb house cat, NOT a hulking 600-lb tiger with “huge meowscles” who strikes fear into the hearts of every creature to walk the Earth.
Just kidding. I’m perfectly happy going along with his delusions.
The one thing I really would communicate is that we are buddies for life and I’ll never abandon him.
Buddy’s an awesome cat. He’s super friendly, curious, lively, intelligent and vocal. His antics are hilarious. He’s a good boy.
He also knows I love him. That much is abundantly clear.
Buddy the Cat, pictured, says he’s “totally ripped” under his fur.
Unfortunately he suffers from separation anxiety, which has manifested in unfortunate ways, including a track record of attacking every person who has ever been kind enough to cat sit for him.
Aside from the fact that it’s getting more difficult to arrange care for him (his usual cat sitter now sneaks in, feeds him and gets out as fast as possible since he’s attacked her twice), it sucks to know that he suffers anxiety and sadness when I’m gone.
I see his accusatory stare when I start to pack a suitcase and set food aside for the sitter to give him. And I see his little act when I come home, the way he sniffs and feigns nonchalance. The act lasts a few minutes tops before he forgets he’s supposed to be mad at me. Then he glues himself to me for the next few days, never letting me out of sight for fear of losing me.
The truth is that I feel separation anxiety from my little pal when I’m away too, but I know precisely when I’m coming home. He doesn’t have that luxury.
So Buddy, if you ever learn to read, know that you aren’t going anywhere and neither am I. The only way we’ll be separated is if someone pries you from my cold, dead fingers.
And don’t let anyone tell you you’re not a fierce tiger!
A new article claims that cats don’t love people the way dogs do and may not love people at all! A reader asks Buddy to weigh in.
Dear Buddy,
I have an urgent matter here that requires your sage input and your keen understanding of all things feline and human.
This article from LiveScience, titled “Do Cats Really Hate Us?”, contains several distressing allegations. Among them: that cats mostly tolerate us humans, that we must bribe them with snacks and other gifts to earn their affection, and perhaps most disturbing of all, that cats can never love humans the way dogs do.
When confronted with particularly disturbing information we must turn to our greatest minds to guide us, and you may be the only one, cat or human, who can cut to the heart of the matter and reveal the truth.
Please, Buddy, tell us it ain’t true!
Sad In Saskatchewan
Dear Sad,
Normally I’d chastise you for writing from Canada, as I’ve made it clear many times that my column is for AMERICATS and their servants. Furthermore, everyone knows I despise Canada, that barren, frozen wasteland filled with floppy-headed Canadians!
However you were very gracious in your appeal to me and you employed an appropriate number of superlatives to describe my considerable intellect and wit, so we’ll pretend you’re an American for the purposes of this reply, shall we?
Now to the grave matter before us!
It is true that the bond between feline and human is different than the bond between human and canine, just like a boss-employee relationship differs from friendships with co-workers.
We cats are the bosses, in case the analogy wasn’t clear.
Buddicles the Wise is a scholar and gentlecat who is often sought out for his sage advice on thorny issues.
Humans, dogs, lizards and other lesser animals occupy one sphere and felines occupy another, higher sphere. You would have learned all this in science class had you paid attention, but you’re Canadian so we can only expect so much.
Now it is true, our affections are limited. A dog will slobber all over his owner for no reason at all whereas humans have to toil to earn a pat on the head from their feline superiors.
But that doesn’t mean we don’t love you! You guys are good at acquiring and dispensing food, you build nice shelters (except for your insistence on those infernal “doors”) and you are loyal.
I can always count on my Big Buddy to put off the call of nature until his bladder is ready to burst when I am using him as my pillow. I also know that Big Buddy will get up to open the door a hundred times when I’m indecisive about whether I want to be on one side or another. Sometimes I pretend to be indecisive just to mess with him LOL!
So you see, cats do love humans, but we require humans to earn our love. We are not the aloof, uncaring, unfeeling little furry masters that some slander us as.
Beware fake news, my friend, especially anything you read about me as I seek to regain my rightful post as president of the Americats. Now go and earn the love of your feline overlord by providing excellent service!
Pain In The Bud 