I’m always here for my Big Buddy when he’s feeling down, I mostly scratch where I’m supposed to, and I don’t poop outside the litter box. Also, if there were any mouses around I would totally get rid of them, but there’s no mouses probably because they are scared of me because I’m so ripped.
I know you see me when I’m sleeping, which is kinda creepy, and you see me when I’m awake, so you know I don’t knock over the Christmas tree and I’ve only broken like three or four ornaments. I didn’t break any of Big Buddy’s guitars this year either!
Here is my Christmas wish list. I hope you can make it to my house this year! I will put out a glass of milk and some turkey in case you’re hungry or thirsty when you come by.
Your friend,
Buddy
You see me when I’m sleeping, you know when I’m awake…
I’ve always wanted a Roomba, which is a little robot designed for kitties to ride on. It looks like so much fun! I really want one.
I want a saw so I can cut Buddy-size holes in the doors in my house. That way no doors can stop me!
I want a boot or a sneaker big enough for me to nap in. When I was little I used to sleep in Big Buddy’s shoes. They smelled so good and they were nice and cozy. I haven’t fit in a long time because I got big. I need a big shoe.
I want a bell I can ring when I want snacks!
And the last thing I want is a hammock that goes on the window so I can watch the birds.
So my list is a Roomba, a saw, a shoe big enough to nap in, a bell and a hammock. If you can’t bring all those things, that’s okay.
How do kittens burn off extra energy? Buddy shows us how it’s done!
Whenever I look at photos of Baby Buddy, I try to remind myself there was a whole lot of crazy that came with the cute.
The surreptitious pooping underneath my bed. The relentless nightly war waged against my ankles and feet. The incessant meowing as if he’d reconciled classical and quantum physics and needed to tell me all about it right this very instant.
Actually he hasn’t quite given up that last hobby. He still tackles weighty subjects in minutes-long soliloquies delivered in meow, but he’s generally less insistent unless the topic involves food.
One of my fondest memories of Baby Bud involves that hyper talkativeness combined with boundless kitten energy and Buddy’s unique brand of crazy.
It started with bedtime. I was settling in for sleep and Bud was making it clear he would have none of it. So I sighed, making sure my feet were fully wrapped in the armor of a blanket to render kitten claws and teeth ineffective.
One of his favorite moves as a kitten was to wait until I was falling asleep, my heart rate slowing, before going kamikaze on my feet. He’d listen for the first snore, chomp down on my toes and gleefully flee before I realized what was happening, happily trilling and chirping after another successful ambush.
This time Buddy had something else in mind. As soon as the lights were off and I was settled in bed, he took off like the Roadrunner, ricocheting off the walls and yelling out “BRRRRRRUUUPPP!!!! BRRRRRRUUUPPP!!!” as he pinballed around the room.
This went on for several minutes until, without warning, Buddy skidded to a halt on my back, meowed the kitten equivalent of “OH YEAH!” and collapsed on top of me with an epic sigh of contentment. He was asleep within seconds.
I can’t do justice in words to how funny it was, except to say I was laying there belly-laughing with my kitten on top of me, afraid I was going to wake him up.
At the time it was also validation. This kitten was my first-ever pet, and he was clearly a happy little dude. That made me happy too.
I miss Baby Buddy, but I love adult Buddy even more precisely because I have more memories like this one to fondly look back on…and because adult Buddy mercifully doesn’t treat my feet like scratching posts when I’m asleep!
Buddy’s having a difficult time adjusting to his new diet.
Day 1: I meowed for treats for two hours and 37 minutes this morning, to no avail. Has Buddy the Larger suffered a stroke? This could pose serious problems for my snacking requirements.
Day 2: This must be a joke. A bad, totally-not-funny joke that’s gonna end with my teeth and claws delivering the final punchline. I WANT MY TREATS NOW.
Day 3: This new kibble is tasteless. Blue Buffalo Wilderness, my ass. More like Brown Cardboard Inside. Thank God I still get turkey. Oh, turkey, I love you.
Day 4: It has been 93 hours, 22 minutes and 17 seconds since my last treat, a creamy, moist morsel of manufactured goodness that activated the reward pathways in my brain like only the finest kitty crack can. You got any on you, bro?
Day 5: By employing my own talents of stealth and acrobatics, I’ve discovered not only is Big Buddy withholding snacks from me, they’ve all disappeared from the snack cabinet! What horrible sorcery is this?
Day 6: Last night I helped myself to some of Big Buddy’s pasta when he left the room to refill his beverage. It’s awful, rubbery stuff topped with sauce made from tomato, that infernal vegetable. Yet I gulped it down. What’s happening to me?!
Buddy doesn’t like wearing his costume, but he loves greeting trick-or-treaters.
Buddy is my little helper this Halloween, as he is every year.
When the doorbell rings he runs excitedly over to the door like a dog, looking back at me like “Come on, dude! People are here! Open the door and give them candy!”
The kids love him.
“Oh, he’s so cute!” one little girl, dressed as a Disney princess, exclaimed just a few minutes ago.
“Look! A kitty cat!” another said, pointing happily.
Unfortunately Buddy will not wear his costume. Maybe that’s for the best, since he could be accused of cultural appropriation. Can cats appropriate culture?
It was all I could do to get that grainy, poorly-lit iPhone photo above. Sorry! The little dude doesn’t like collars, clothes, costumes or anything else on his body. Not even snacks can bribe him.
I couldn’t get the hat to stay on his head more than a few seconds, and he’s a little escape artist with the poncho. There was no way he would have sat like that long enough for me to get a shot with the Canon, unfortunately.
But he is a good little helper with the trick-or-treaters, and later tonight he’ll nap in my lap as I curse myself for eating too many leftover Twix and Snickers. He’s my buddy!
Buddy goes into business with 411, the Nigerian Royal Family Cat. The offer almost seems too good to be true!
Dear Sir or Madam,
Warm salutations and greetings to you, my friend! I am writing to your most esteemed personage having just been informed by my attorneys that I stand to inherit more than 5,000 pounds of premium catnip, including Meowie Wowie, Purrple Haze, Kitty Kush and Mewbury OG.
However, due to the Byzantine inheritance laws of my homeland of Nigeria, I am unable to come into my considerable catnip fortune without an American bank account, which is needed to pay the inheritance fee to the Nigerian Office of Catnip Inheritance.
This is where I must humbly ask for your assistance, good sir or madame. It is my fervent hope that we may come to an agreement in which you allow me to make the inheritance payment from your account in exchange for a large portion of my inheritance. Would 2,000 pounds of catnip be acceptable recompense to you for this favor?
Yours truly, your friend,
Grand Prince Four One Nine, Nigerian Royal Family Cat
Dear 419,
Wow! Five thousand pounds of catnip! This sounds almost too good to be true! If I were you I’d build a big vault for all my catnip and go swimming in it daily, like Scrooge McDuck does with his money!
I don’t know where Nigeria is but it sounds like a wonderful country. I stole my human’s bank information and have attached it to this email. When will I get my 2,000 pounds of catnip?
Your friend,
Buddy
Photo by Andrew Marttila.
Dearest Most Magnificent Buddy,
Warm salutations! It is my life’s honor to count you among my friends and execute this business deal together. Good fortune smiles on us both, and soon we will be bathing in rivers of catnip, the envy of all other cats!
There has been a small hiccup with the Ministry of Inheritance. In order to process my payment, I am required to submit a small processing fee with the Royal Processing Fee Bureau of Nigeria. It is only a paltry sum of $2,000, but again I am only able to make this payment via an American bank account.
If you would be so kind as to authorize the payment, you shall be reimbursed of course and we will be basking in our new catnip fortunes shortly!
With great affection and respect,
Four One Nine, Feline of the Nigerian Royal Family
Dear 419,
If you can repay the $2,000 right away, I’m happy to help! I’ll look out for the check and the catnip in the mail!
Buddy
Photo by Andrew Martilla.
Most Marvelous Benefactor Buddy,
You, Sir, are my most valued and trusted friend! They say American cats are fat, lazy and selfish, but they are wrong, for you are not selfish at all! I have let it be known in my village that Buddy of America is a wonderful and wise cat. They sing songs about you and your generosity.
We are almost in possession of our catnip, my friend! All that remains is to cover the shipping fee and the Royal Nigerian Export fee. They are paltry sums, merely $4,000 and $3,500 respectively. I have already had my servant mail the $2,000 reimbursement for the processing fee, and will similarly return the funds promptly upon paying the export and shipping fees from your respected American bank account.
I received but a small sample of the Meowie Wowie this afternoon and raise a toast in your honor!
Your Loyal Friend,
Four One Nine, Cat Royal of the Family
Dear 419,
I’m fresh out of cash. What if I could scrounge up some cans of tuna and some old toys? Could we bribe the clerk to waive the export fee?
Buddy
Dear 419,
I haven’t gotten my $2,000 reimbursed and still no catnip! I know you probably forgot to write me back, but can you please tell me what the status is?
Buddy
Dear 419,
You tricked me! No catnip, no reimbursement, no village cats singing songs about me!
It just so happens I have a cousin in your country. He’s gonna pay you a visit!
Buddy
Photo by Andrew Martilla.
Dearest Most Esteemed Honorable Buddy,
Your, ahem, cousin presented himself just minutes ago. Please, on my behalf, thank him again for not eating me! I did not know lions could be so merciful and had already emptied my bladder by the time I realized he would allow me to live.
Here is your $2,000 and the first 200 lbs of catnip you are owed. The rest will be delivered in installments for the next 24 months.
Lastly, I am instructed to inform you that, per your cousin’s direction, the music teachers have been drafting paeans to your majesty, and the kittens will stage a three-act play about how awesome you and your cousin are. But mostly your cousin.
Pain In The Bud 