New York magazine’s article included difficult-to-read details about the severe neglect of a pet cat, and didn’t offer any reassurances that the forsaken feline was okay.
Happy Thursday! Before we get into today’s cat news, I’d like to share my current Google News search string, which has helped me keep my sanity over the last few weeks. It’s simple:
“cat -doja -vance -shot”
And voila, no more stories about Doja Cat, fewer blood pressure-raising articles about people who think shooting felines is a sport, and you’re mercifully saved from the 17,457th “think piece” about JD Vance and cat ladies.
The “relatable” column about severely neglecting a cat
New York magazine’s editors knew they were wading into a minefield with this week’s pet ethics issue, and the author of a story about neglecting her cat knew it too, which is why she took the preventative step of using a nom de plume.
In a column titled “Why Do I Hate My Pet After Having A Baby?” (later softened by the editors to “Why Did I Stop Loving My Cat When I Had A Baby?”), “Audrey” writes about severely neglecting her cat, Lucky, after having her first child.
She not only developed what she calls a “postpartum loathing” of Lucky, she admits to not feeding the poor feline for so long that Lucky ate plants out of desperation, then predictably threw up. The forsaken feline began eliminating on the floor because her litterbox was not being scooped. She lost “at least one tooth” and because even water was denied her, she had to drink out of the toilet. The life-threatening neglect and emotional abuse lasted months.
“If I treated a human the way I treated my cat, I would be in prison for years,” Audrey admits, describing Lucky’s own descent into depression as the cat became the scapegoat for all of Audrey’s negative feelings.
Cats (and dogs) understand a lot more than we give them credit for, especially when it comes to our emotional states, to which they are hyper-attuned because they are directly impacted. We’re talking about animals who have been companions to humans for 10,000 and 30,000 years, respectively. Not only does their companionship predate human civilization and the concept of recorded history, they have evolved to intuitively read human facial expressions and body language. They can even smell our pheromones, which means they’re often consciously aware of our moods before we are.
I’ll never forget what my brother said to me a few weeks after I adopted Bud, upon meeting the little guy for the first time: “You’re his whole world.” I’ve tried to make that world as loving, safe and fun for my cat as I can, because he deserves it. He’s given me back so much in return.
Adopting comes with responsibility. It’s not just about meeting an innocent animal’s basic needs, like food and water. It’s about providing our four-legged friends with good lives and never taking our bad days out on them.
“Audrey” says she tried to get rid of Lucky, leaving the windows of her home open, and because the original version of the story dealt almost exclusively with the author’s mental health, readers were disturbed by the lack of any follow-up on Lucky’s situation.
The negative reaction was so strong that New York’s editors took the unusual step of attaching a note to the story claiming they “confirmed the welfare of the cat prior to publishing the story.”
That didn’t satisfy the magazine’s critics, who accused them of behaving “callously” by presenting the author’s abuse of Lucky as a “relatable” symptom of post-partum depression.
“Why are you ignoring one of the most controversial articles you’ve ever published instead of addressing it?” one reader wrote. “It’s not going to just go away – we will not forget … The people will not stop until that cat is safe and loved, and your publication is held responsible.”
Insisting the magazine’s editors be “held responsible” is a bit much, and I’m not a fan of censorship. The bigger issue is the lack of concern for the cat even in retrospect, and the attempt to normalize postpartum animal abuse, as if it’s just a thing people do. It feels like a missed opportunity to explore why such things happen, and to examine the problem with compassion for all involved, human and animal.
Buddy the Cat’s Le Handsome Club is now open to le handsome cats
This is really just an excuse to show off my latest poster promoting PITB, but readers will recognize the concept of Le Handsome Club from earlier satirical stories about the Budster.
Le Handsome Club: The club for le handsome cats!
I’ve written before about “real Buddy” and “cartoon Buddy,” which is the version of him that exists in PITB’s world of absurd satire. Cartoon Buddy is real Buddy with his quirks, narcissistic qualities and amusing lunacy dialed up to 11.
Someone once asked me how to write a children’s book because they want to write one about their pets. Since I’ve never written a children’s book I wasn’t much help, but I did share the basic process for Buddesian hijinks: Imagine a situation, then imagine how Bud would respond to it if he could speak.
So yes, Le Handsome Club. I could definitely see my cat, who thinks he’s Catdonis and Arnold Schwarzenegger rolled into one, founding a club for really, really, ridiculously good looking cats, to paraphrase Ben Stiller’s Zoolander.
A cat’s affection has to be earned, but the good news is it’s not rocket science. A little patience and consideration for your fluffy little pal goes a long way toward building trust and a strong bond. Once you do, you’ll have a loyal friend for life.
“How do I make my cat like me?”
That question comes up regularly on social media posts, in cat-centric discussion groups, Q&A sites and even in our inbox. People adopt a cat, and whether the little one dives under a bed and refuses to emerge, or just seems reluctant to snuggle the way people imagined, they turn to the internet to find out why they don’t have a purring, contented feline in their lap.
The short answer is you can’t “make” your cat feel anything, and it’s best to dispense with that notion as quickly as possible so you can acknowledge the truth: cats are individuals with their own thoughts and feelings.
The good news, however, is that you can earn your cat’s affection with patience, respect and love. Our patience and respect for our little buddies leads to trust, which in turn creates and strengthens the special bond we share with them.
The love of a cat isn’t as easily won as the love of a dog, and in many ways that makes it even more special. Cats don’t love just anyone.
It starts with acknowledging your cat has feelings, and understanding that you have to respect those feelings as you would those of a person.
Don’t make your cat do things she doesn’t want to do.
Despite what you might think or what you may have been told, most cats don’t like being picked up, held or feeling restricted. The majority of felines don’t like belly rubs, and people have a habit of mistaking a sign of trust — a cat showing her belly — as an invitation to pet.
A cat showing its belly is a sign of trust. It’s a vulnerable position for a cat, and not an invitation for belly rubs. Credit: Wikimedia Commons
Every cat is different, but generally the best way to make sure your kitty doesn’t want to approach you is to ignore her personal boundaries and treat her like a stuffed animal.
Those “cute” videos you see on TikTok of terminally online people spinning their cats to Taylor Swift songs, holding them like phones to reenact scenes from The Princess Diaries, or forcing them to wear ridiculous outfits?
Don’t do that. It destroys your cat’s trust in you, and the cheap dopamine hit you get from strangers “liking” your content isn’t worth stressing your furry pal out and damaging your relationship.
Don’t do this. It’s not funny, the meme is lame and you’ll teach your cat to fear you. Credit: TikTok
If you tend to restrict your cat and hold her in your lap, you’re discouraging her from sitting there in the future. If you give kitty unnecessary baths, you could create a situation in which your cat fears you.
Even if you think you’re not doing anything wrong, if your cat is reluctant to approach you, there’s something that needs fixing, and it’ll require patience.
Don’t subject your cat to forced petting sessions.
Unlike dogs, cats have a limited tolerance for physical affection, and they don’t always want to be touched.
Your pal will be much more likely to regularly approach you for physical affection if you let him come to you. Ignore the impulse to reach out and start petting him like you would a dog. Instead, put your hand out and let your cat initiate the petting. You’ll develop a physical shorthand in which he signals he wants chin scratches or head rubs by leaning in and rubbing his face against your outstretched hand.
All felines have scent glands in their cheeks, and the initial contact of a cat rubbing his cheek against your fingers is an olfactory signal that says “This human is my family. I like this human.”
Even though our noses can’t detect those pheromones, they’re still important to our cat(s), and they’re the reason why cats will scent-mark objects by brushing past them in your home, just like tigers will mark their territories by scent-marking trees with urine. Same concept, but thankfully our miniature house tigers generally don’t feel the need to do the latter. (If yours does, take him to the vet. If he’s not “fixed,” get it done ASAP.)
Less is more when it comes to petting
Stop me if you’ve heard this one before: “I just don’t get it! I was petting my cat and she was purring and loving it, then without warning she bit me!”
Pro tip: A bite like that never comes without warning, it’s just that most of us don’t see the signs right in front of us.
Cats communicate by tail and whisker, and we communicate by making noises with our mouths. Adult cats don’t meow to each other. The little ones are smart enough to understand how we exchange information, so meows, trills, chirps and grunts are their way of trying to speak our language, to communicate on our terms.
But sometimes — like, say, when they’re purring and relaxed — they’re distracted and forget to meow, or they meow and we ignore them.
That’s when they bite, or swipe at us with their paws.
If you pay attention to non-verbal cues, you’ll notice your cat getting overstimulated when her tail starts swishing and her pupils dilate. If those signs aren’t enough, there are others: twitching ears, shifting positions, moving away.
The best way to avoid misunderstandings is to give kitty a few head rubs and chin scratches, then stop. If she wants more, she will let you know. If she doesn’t, she’ll be content to remain on your lap or by your side, knowing you’re not going to keep going indefinitely.
No harm, no foul, no bite.
This cat is not enjoying selfie time with her human. Credit: imgur via Reddit
Don’t take your bad day out on your cat
Remember when you were a kid and your mom or dad came home from a bad day at work with a storm cloud hanging over their head? Maybe they snapped at you for apparently no reason, or made family dinner miserable with fraught silence. Maybe they unfairly got on your case about something minor.
Either way, the tension in the house was palpable because, as kids, your parents controlled your lives and you were dependent on them for everything.
That’s what it’s like for our pets. Whether we call ourselves “fur mommies” and “cat daddies” or not, the fact is that the pet-human dynamic absolutely shares some elements with the parent-child relationship.
Our pets are utterly dependent on us, they’re subject to our moods, and they’re deeply attuned to our emotions.
As a result, how we’re feeling has a big impact on them, for better and worse. Unlike children, who at least have some concept of redirected frustration, cats and dogs have no idea why we have bad moods and no way to insulate themselves from the consequences.
We’re all human and we all get frustrated with our feline friends at some point. If you’ve been sitting in traffic for three hours and come home to find Socks pooped all over the rug or threw up on your comforter, frustration is a natural response.
But for the sake of the innocent little ones we share our homes with, it’s up to us to be mindful of our moods and do our best not to let external factors impact how we treat our pets. Things as seemingly small as our tone of voice can have a major impact on their emotions.
A cat chowing down. Credit: Wikimedia Commons
Don’t feed them crap
This has been covered exhaustively elsewhere, so we’ll direct you to catinfo.org if you have in-depth questions about feline nutrition.
In general, wet food should make up the majority of your cat’s diet. Cats don’t have a high thirst drive and they’ve evolved to get most of their hydration from meat, so a cat who eats mostly — or only — dry food is in danger of developing serious health problems.
Aside from that, more expensive doesn’t always mean better, and the important thing is that your cat’s food has real meat as the top ingredient. If the primary ingredient is a filler like corn or grain, or poultry/beef byproducts, steer clear and find a better alternative.
Feeding quality food means kitty will be happier, healthier, less prone to health complications and more active.
Keep things interesting
You don’t have to spend a lot of money on toys, and everyone who’s ever lived with a feline knows the fluffy little guys are just as likely to take a shine to a new box or the little plastic ring from a milk bottle as they are to the $10 new toy you bought from the pet store.
That said, there are certain toys that are almost universally beloved by felinekind, and the more you keep things interesting for your cat, the happier your furry overlord will be.
You can never go wrong with wands for interactive play. Keep it simple and manipulate the toy at the end of the wand like prey so your house panther can feel like a mighty hunter. Track toys with balls that cats can bat around are good for relatively quiet solo play. Cat tunnels are great too, especially if you toss treats inside them for kitty to find randomly.
A cat playing with a toy mouse. Credit: Wikimedia Commons
You don’t need a special occasion to surprise your little buddy with a catnip and play session, and you’d be surprised how enthralled felines can be by “cat TV” on Youtube. There are dozens of channels that provide hours-long videos of birds eating seeds from outdoor feeders, aquariums filled with interesting fish, and critters like squirrels and rodents.
You can also engage your cat by training her to do simple things like come when called, sit on command high five you. Those “tricks” are very easy to teach and require no more than two or three practice sessions a day, maximum 10 minutes each. Your cat will love it, especially with rewards for learning, and it’s fun to show skeptics that, yes, cats can do tricks just like dogs.
Sometimes “fun” is just something unusual, something your cat rarely gets to do or see. On occasion, I let Buddy walk up and down the hallway with me in my apartment building late at night when chances are low we’ll encounter anyone.
Elevators: products of foul sorcery that swallow humans and sometimes spit out Korean rappers.
He loves to stop at each door, listen and take in the strange sounds and scents. If anyone emerges from one of the doors or the elevator opens, he just makes haste back to our apartment, where I leave the door slightly ajar for that reason. As for the elevator, he seems to think it’s some sort of product of foul sorcery — it rumbles, the doors open by themselves, and when people walk in, they don’t walk out. Sometimes they enter only to emerge as a different person a few minutes later!
I’m happy to indulge his paranoia with regard to the elevator, because it means I don’t have to worry about curiosity getting the better of him.
If you’ve got rooms your cat doesn’t normally have access to, a yard with cat-proof fencing, or an activity you only do sometimes, consider breaking up your cat’s day with a little exploration or some ‘nip-fueled fun.
“Extremely accurate portrait of the Buddies” commissioned by Buddy the Cat in 2024.
Treat your cat as a friend
Your cat may not have legal personhood, but he is a fully sentient being who feels emotions just as strongly as people do. Cats experience the full range of primary and secondary emotions, but not tertiary emotions. That means kitty can feel happy, sad, excited, anxious, jealous, bored, depressed and overjoyed, but she’s not going to be embarrassed if another cat’s wearing the same collar or fret over whether people and other cats like her.
The important thing is remembering cats have feelings.
It’s not rocket science, and it doesn’t cost us anything to treat our cats with respect, patience and love. Bonding with a cat requires more than just feeding, watering and scooping, but the effort is always worth it and you’ll have a loyal friend for life. Good luck!
Top image of incredibly sexy beast (Buddy) copyright Pain In The Bud.
I love my cat, except when he’s standing on my head and screeching into my ear at 80 decibels to make sure sleep is not an option.
Regular readers of this blog know I dote on my cat.
I don’t call him “Your Grace” without reason. He always eats first. He regularly uses me as his pillow. He knows how to manipulate me, he always gets what he wants, and I’ve been told many times how he’s got me “wrapped around his paw.”
He rules the roost, and has done so since the night he arrived as a baby and came striding out of his carrier like a furry little Ghenghis Khan, conquering everything in sight.
No one can doubt that I love the little guy.
But if you were a fly on the wall when I wake up, well, you might think differently. Bud is, to put it bluntly, absolutely relentless when he wants something, which puts us at odds when it comes to that most crucial commodity, sleep.
Some of the most vile things that have ever come out of my mouth have been prompted by the little guy’s snooze-disturbing antics. I’ve called him ALF (Annoying Little F—-er), I’ve threatened to sell him to the local Chinese restaurant, I’ve thrown pillows at him, and when my sleep-deprived brain can’t come up with something more creative, I half-mumble “Shut up, you furry little turdball!”
Buddy the Cat: Never at a loss for meows.
Those are the more tame ones! The worst thing, the bit that makes me feel bad, is that Bud just wants me to wake up so we can hang out and be buddies.
He doesn’t want food. He’s got a bowl of dry food set out for him before bed every night precisely so he doesn’t have to wake me up. Nope. He wants to knead my shoulder, purr up a storm and have me scratch his chin while I tell him what a good boy he is. And instead of that, I’m turtling up beneath the blanket, pillow over my head, telling him he’ll be served as General Tsao’s Buddy if he doesn’t shut his trap.
All this time I’ve told myself that it’s okay because he doesn’t understand what I’m saying, and he knows I wouldn’t harm a hair on his head.
But what if he does understand some of it?
That’s the subject of a new column by Karin Spicer. Writing in the Dayton Daily News, Spicer describes her morning ritual with her cat, Pip, and how she’s encouraged her naturally vocal cat to vocalize even more by talking to him.
“No sleep for you, human! There are foreheads to rub, chins to scratch and ‘good boys’ to be said!”
Like Pip, Bud is a naturally talkative cat, and like Pip, his motor mouth tendencies have been cultivated by plenty of attention, affection and interaction.
“Cats want to bond with their owners,” says Catster’s Michelle Gunter, who is quoted in Spicer’s column about Pip. “If you take the time to communicate with them in soft, calming tones, that bond will strengthen faster. Your tone and the affection you offer during these periods can help show your cat that you love them and want to spend time with them.”
You mean to tell me all this time I’ve been undoing some of that bonding by hurling vile invective at my Buddy when he tries to annoy me out of sleep?
You mean to tell me he can infer by my tone of voice that I’m threatening to sell him to Somali pirates for $15 and a pack of gum?!?
Sheeeeit!
Disclaimer:No Buddies were harmed in the creation of this content, except perhaps for some bruised egos.
Roadside zoos persist despite recent law changes, but even the best zoos fail to provide adequate facilities and enrichment for big cats, the report found.
The Amur tigress at Bearsdley Zoo is the lone occupant of her enclosure, which is large by the zoo’s standards, outfitted with a pool, toys and other enrichment, but small compared to what her natural range would be.
When I visited last summer, I spent the better part of an hour watching her pace the perimeter of her enclosure, walking in an endless loop as if in a daze, never stopping, altering her stride or reacting to anything.
But what made me realize how bad captivity really is for big cats was what I saw at the Smithsonian National Zoo, a well-funded world class facility. The tigers there have two outdoor enclosures with a topographic design: they’re vertical spaces separated into tiers, with large trees and narrow “caves” for shelter from the elements. Both enclosures are surrounded by wide moats that ring the perimeter just inside the security fencing.
One of two similar Bengal tiger habitats in the Smithsonian National Zoo in Washington. Credit: ZooChat
It was feeding time on a hot summer day. Lionesses chowed down on large slabs of meat and licked blocks of ice, but the lone male tiger next door was pacing in a circle. He paced and paced, covering the same 10 to 12 feet, ignoring his food. I watched him for a long time. His behavior was a clear sign of zoochosis.
If a tiger in a national accredited zoo — where an entire team of keepers and caretakers is responsible for enrichment and welfare — suffers from clear signs of captivity-induced distress, what chance do tigers in other facilities have?
When we think of big cats suffering in captivity, we think of the roadside zoos where the Joe Exotics and Doc Antles of the world exploit them for financial gain, drug them, force them to take selfies with visitors and keep them in cruel conditions. But a new report from Born Free USA goes beyond roadside zoos and says big cat arrangements, even in the best zoos, are inappropriate, unhealthy and demoralizing for the animals.
“Unable to escape the crowds of humans, unable to follow some of their fundamental urges such as hunting and roaming over large distances, unable to fulfil their social needs – whether that be living solitarily or forming a pride with others – big cats show us their mental anguish by adopting abnormal behaviors,” reads the report [PDF], Clawing at the Cages. “These behaviors, known as stereotypies, manifest in obsessive pacing. Some big cats spend most of their days tracing the same, short, tedious route around their enclosures. This behavior is a recognized sign of stress, and only documented in captive animals.”
A captive jaguar. Credit: Yigithan/Pexels
The wild lives of animals like tigers are fundamentally at odds with the concept of zoos. In the wild, tigers range up to 50 miles in a single day, occupying vast ranges. Male tigers protect their home ranges, their mates and their cubs from other males as well as threats of all sorts.
That sort of lifestyle, which is hard-coded into their DNA, is not compatible with a guest-oriented operation in which habitats are designed primarily to give people the best view of the animals.
Lions might have it slightly better, though that’s arguable. As a social species they can interact with each other and they tend to have larger enclosures, but zoos rarely group animals according to their preferred family units or prides, instead matching individuals according to breeding plans as part of conservation efforts.
Yet even the conservation aspect is iffy, according to Born Free USA. Because of restrictions on “importing” animals and a population that is descended from just a handful of big cats, inbreeding is rampant. There’s a lack of scientific research on the captive zoo-held population, but the authors cite a 1983 study that found “six animals out of the approximately 1,000 Siberian tigers held in zoos in 1983 were responsible for 69.4% of the founder representation of the living population at that time. 70% of the population had a positive inbreeding
coefficient.”
Because little has been done to remedy that genetic bottleneck, “genetic viability remains low, and inbreeding of big cats in zoos can only have increased in the intervening years since these studies,” the report states.
Inbred cats suffer more health problems, don’t live as long and are much more susceptible to birth defects.
A cheetah. Credit: Magda Ehlers/Pexels
Despite the passing of the Big Cat Public Safety Act, Born Free USA’s report notes, roadside zoos still exist, and many of them have simply ignored the new laws because their operators know inspectors are overworked and lack manpower. Years can elapse between inspections, even at roadside zoos operated by serial offenders with long histories of keeping animals in abysmal conditions.
For example, Single Vision of Melrose, Florida — which bills itself as a “conservation” facility — openly flaunts its mistreatment of big cats with enormously popular video content from “Safari Sammie” on Youtube, TikTok and Instagram, despite the fact that it’s been the subject of dozens of violations and has an ignominious record when it comes to the health of its big cats. The facility was charged with 20 violations of animal rights laws in the previous two years, and has had multiple cases of animals dying due to neglect, yet continues to sell “experiences” in which “guests” can interact with heavily sedated tigers, jaguars, cheetahs and other wild cats.
In her videos, “Safari Sammie” — an employee of Single Vision — is routinely seen interacting directly with the apex predators, treating them like house cats and creating dangerous situations.
Other roadside zoos and animal “experience” operators continue to intentionally inbreed big cats to create “exotic” white tigers as well as ligers, tigons and other hybrids that aren’t found in the wild but are big attractions.
Overall, the report found:
Zoos fail to provide adequate environments for big cats, including lack of space, lack of ability to hide from public view, and the regular practice of locking big cats in tiny night quarters during the hours when zoos are
closed. The latter often results in big cats spending the vast majority of their time significantly confined.
Social and behavioral needs are not met in zoos. For example, solitary big cats are often forced to live with conspecifics, and social big cats are prevented from creating natural prides. Big cats are prevented from
hunting live prey – a behavior fundamental to them – while often housed alongside prey animals who also suffer stress from being forced to live near predators.
Inbreeding of big cats has become commonplace due to limited genetic diversity among captive populations, as well as unethical and deliberate inbreeding of color morphs such as white tigers and lions,
resulting in significant health issues for the cats involved.
Due to the inbreeding of big cats in zoos, as well as their habituation to humans, big cats kept in zoos are generally not candidates for release to the wild. As such, extensive and ongoing breeding programs simply serve to ensure that zoos remain “stocked” with these animals.
Monitoring of data on big cats in captivity is incomplete, with significant numbers of individuals disappearing from studbooks – the databases ostensibly responsible for tracking living big cats in captive facilities.
The licensing system intended to implement the Animal Welfare Act in the United States only achieves superficial monitoring of big cats in zoos, due in part to its risk-based assessment protocols as well as lack of meaningful
information in reporting that would allow effective public understanding and external expert oversight.
Despite the introduction of the Big Cat Public Safety Act in the U.S. in early 2023, some facilities continue to engage in dangerous activities with big cats, both in violation of, and in compliance with the new law.
Zoos around the world have killed healthy big cats due to overcrowding and lack of perceived usefulness to breeding programs. Other healthy big cats have been killed when human error or enclosure failure allowed their escape, or when attacked by conspecifics in their enclosures.
Due to all the issues above, and others, the overall health and welfare of big cats is compromised in zoos. This results in high mortality (particularly in infants), and recognizable signs of stress in the form of significant occurrences of stereotypic behaviors.
The report includes detailed anecdotes of typical problems in captive situations involving jaguars, lions, tigers and cheetahs, documents persistent problems with habitat design and security, and outlines loopholes and other problems with existing laws, which still don’t go far enough to ensure some of the world’s most iconic apex predators aren’t exploited and forced to endure lifelong misery.
You can find the report’s landing page, with links to a petition, a summary and the full text here.
The respondents also admitted they “forget” to feed their furry friends an average of three times a week. Say what?!?
Americans don’t know basic facts about their cats, fail to properly care for them and overestimate how well they do as pet parents, according to a new poll.
The survey of cat owners commissioned by PetSafe found most people in the US who have cats in their home don’t know their feline friends typically have 18 toes, for example, and don’t realize cats purr when they’re content as well as when they’re trying to soothe themselves.
Respondents said they frequently forget to refill their furry little buddies’ water bowls, but the thing that really blew my mind is that people supposedly forget to feed their cats an average of three times a week.
How is that possible?!?
The number of times Bud has missed a meal in 10 years is precisely zero. Even when I had COVID, even when half my face was frozen with Bell’s Palsy and I was throbbing with the worst headache I’d ever endured, I fed the little guy according to his schedule.
It’s not just that he reminds me. There’s a whole ritual around it, an elaborate series of increasingly affirmative and urgent meows that quickly give way to panic if Buddy doesn’t see activity associated with a bowl of fresh wet food and water delivered to his nook.
The pre-reminder reminders begin about 45 minutes to an hour before feeding time, with Bud’s infallible internal clock signaling upcoming meal time.
At the 30 minute mark Bud will put himself directly in my line of sight and stare at me. Then he’ll start to meow at regular intervals, and if I’m not up and heading to the kitchen by T-minus 15 minutes to yums, the meowing begins in earnest.
Even the act of retrieving a pack of wet food from the Buddy Cabinet is highly formalized and ritualistic: the little dude grunts and trills excitedly as I open the seal, dump the food in his bowl, mash it up and pile it in the middle the way he likes it.
Then he leads me back to his nook, looking over his head every few paces to make sure I’m right behind him, even though we’ve done this song and dance literally 7,318 times as of today. (It’s probably more than that since I fed him more than twice a day when he was a kitten, and doesn’t include his bowl of dry food for his late night snack/overnight emergency supply so he doesn’t have to wake me up if he’s hungry.)
I realize Bud’s a bit of a tyrant and there’s no peace until he gets what he wants, but still. Cats are cats. So really, how does anyone “forget” to feed their cat?
Pain In The Bud 