Buddy – Page 18 – Pain In The Bud

Buddy Wants YOU To Adopt A Kitty: Adopt A Cat Month 2023

Ever year, 3.2 million little buddies enter shelters across the US, hoping for forever homes and humans to love them.

A message from Buddy, Purrsident of the Americats:

June is national Adopt A Cat Month here in our great country, and it’s no coincidence that it coincides with kitten season when hundreds of thousands of little buddies are born.

Those babies will need forever homes and attentive human servants to see to their needs, but don’t forget the adult buddies in your local shelter! They need homes too, and if you like to keep things low key, they’re the buddies for you. Bonus: They come pre-installed with purrsonalities, so there’s less guesswork involved if you’re adding a new living room lion to your existing pride.

Just remember, June is ADOPT a cat month, not “buy a cat from a breeder” month! When you adopt a cat, you’re making a friend for life who will be forever grateful to you…although kitty will still expect you to be a good servant, because that is the natural order of things!

Do you patriotic duty and adopt an Americat!

Purrsident Buddy

americats_adopts2 — A patriotic message from Purrsident Buddy! Feel free to share it or print it out. Credit: PITB

americats_adopt — A patriotic message from Purrsident Buddy! Feel free to share it or print it out. Credit: PITB

‘Who Ya Callin’ Chubby?!’ Buddy Goes On A Diet (Again)

Buddy losing his normally meowscular and ripped physique is my fault.

Ruh roh! It’s diet time again.

The meowing protests have begun.

Buddy has noticed his dry food tastes a little bit different, and he’s not happy. And while he may not be good with numbers, he strongly suspects his snack allocations are a little light.

He’s right.

Good boy has become fat boy, and that’s my fault and my responsibility.

When you love your cat, it’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking that giving in all the time is an expression of love.

Cats are pros at insistence, especially when it comes to food. When Buddy stands in front of the treat cabinet and meows mournfully, or when he gives me his sad-eyed stare as if he’s Julius Caesar — “Et tu, Big Bud?” — I’m weak and I fold. Snacks are dispensed.

Fatcat — Chonky cats suffer health problems, reduced mobility and ill-fitting suits. Image: PITB

Yet there’s no denying Bud is plump.

He’s got a belly, and it’s not just his pronounced primordial pouch. His cheeks are starting to fill out. When he loafs, he looks like a gray blob.

He’s also incapable of doing his old door-opening trick, which requires him to jump and momentarily hang from the handle while his feet find purchase on the frame. Shoving off on his hind legs, he would push the handle down while leaning into the door, easing it open.

He’s just too chunky, unable to balance his weight properly to pull it off nowadays.

Most importantly, a chubby Buddy is not a healthy Buddy. That’s my fault.

So it’s back to the diet, and hopefully the little guy can be motivated to move more during play time. If not, well, we’ll have to resort to drastic measures to get him moving. An angry vacuum ought to do it.

Little Buddy And Big Buddy: The Buddies

Human and cat, best buddies.

To celebrate my birthday and Bud’s adoptaversary, the little guy commissioned a portrait of us together. As many of you know, cats think of us as big, slow cats, which is reflected in the resulting painting. I present to you “Buddies: Airbrush on canvas”:

There is a slight inaccuracy, of course: I have gray eyes, not green. If I’m portrayed as a cat, I should probably be an orange tabby as well. And finally, little Buddy should be much more muscular. Perhaps he’s meant to be a kitten in this painting as he was more of a shoulder cat when he was tiny. Other than that, seems pretty accurate!

In truth we don’t really know exactly how cats view us.

We know there’s a parental element, that house cats retain kitten-like qualities for life as they remain in our care. The meow is probably the best example of that, since it mirrors the vocalizations kittens make to their mothers.

We know house cats depend on us physically, psychologically and emotionally. In recent years behavioral scientists have taken studies originally designed for children and modified them for cats, yielding interesting results: House cats who are bonded to their humans behave in ways startlingly similar to humans children.

When we form bonds with them, they draw comfort from our presence and look to us for behavioral cues to determine how they should respond to situations and objects that are new and potentially frightening. Just like kids, cats look to us, and just like kids, they stay calm if we do.

When you treat a cat well, kitty returns that love, trying to comfort you when you’re sick, refusing to leave your side, alerting you to potential trouble.

Bud is super friendly, but he isn’t the cuddliest cat out there. He doesn’t like being hugged or picked up, but he knows that when he pads up to me while purring and sits on my chest or in my lap, I’m never going to force him to stay or subject him to pets he doesn’t want. That’s why he approaches me often and why he feels so relaxed.

It’s probably also why he often wakes me up, purring like an engine, looking for a chin scratch and affirmation that he is indeed a good boy.

Perhaps the biggest complements are Bud grooming my hair and beard, and sleeping on me.

There’s no greater expression of trust between a feline and human than when a cat falls sleep in your lap. Cats are never more vulnerable than when they’re asleep, and sleeping in your lap means your four legged friend feels safe with you and trusts you completely.

‘Who, Me? I Wasn’t Clawing At The Screen Again, I Swear!’

Buddy is a good boy! Buddy doesn’t scratch the screen!

“Hahaha! You humans are so funny with your overactive imaginations!

Your ears and eyes deceive you, human! I was not trying to scratch the screen door again.

I told you, those tears in the screen are from a chalupacabra! I said ‘Look here, chalupacabra, this is Buddy Territory. You’re not welcome here! Get!’

But you know those chalupacabras, they never listen. Stubborn animals!

My claws are NOT stuck in the screen, okay? I’m just resting my paw. I can get free any time I want, it’s just that I don’t want to right now.”

Forty-six minutes later:

“I’m right here, you know. I see you eating that ice cream sandwich. I see how it is. ‘Snacks for me, but not for thee.’ Well I have news for you, human! I’m going to sit here and stare at you all mean-like until you procure a Buddy snack.

You feel guilty? Good! You’re meant to.”

‘Where’s Mine, Dude?’: How My Cat Makes Me Feel Guilty

“I will make you feel guilty, human. Then you will feed me.”

When I adopted Buddy I never thought I’d have such a talkative and friendly cat. Or one who seems to be an expert on human psychology, for that matter.

The little guy has made a habit of following me to the kitchen, even rousing himself from naps the instant he hears the fridge door opening, the rustling of a bag or the clunk of a closing cabinet.

Employing a different strategy than the meow-heavy, “FEED ME NOW!” style he uses at meal time, he sits in the doorway of the kitchen and watches me silently. If I fail to retrieve a snack for him, he doesn’t move.

Last night I’d forgotten to get him something and when I set my cereal bowl down on the coffee table and sank back into the couch, I looked over and saw Bud still sitting in the kitchen doorway, managing to simultaneously look sad and silently incriminating with his big green eyes.

“Where’s mine, dude? Dude, where’s mine?” he seems to say, pouring it on thick. “I thought we did everything together, yet here you are enjoying a snack while your best little Buddy is standing just a few feet away, feeling betrayed as you eat your Frosted Flakes. I guess we weren’t best buddies after all.”

Because I can’t stand that incriminating look and I know the situation will escalate if I don’t act, I dutifully rise from the couch and assume my responsibility as Bud’s faithful human servant, fetching some of his favorite dental treats.

His tail curls into a happy question mark and he trills his happiness.

“Guilty? Betrayed? Ah, all forgotten! Difficulties are dissolved into mere misunderstandings where snacks are concerned, my human friend!”

Maybe I’m overthinking it. Maybe I’m anthropomorphizing the little guy. Or maybe he really is a master of human psychology who can manipulate human emotions with the twist of his paw.