Buddy The Cat’s August Horoscope: Waning Gibbons, Humans Wrestling, Global Warming And Sexy Calicos!

Buddy the Cat looks into the future using his astrological powers and gives you a preview of the various misfortunes, embarrassments and humiliations in store for you this month!

Aries: The current moon is a waning gibbons, so you will fly through the trees with thrilling velocity and…gibbous? What the heck is a gibbous? Oh. Well that looks like 60 percent of a pizza. So, Aries, you will eat a lot of pizza this week! My favorite topping is turkey, what’s yours?

Taurus: Your human servant has been pleasingly adequate these last few months, and you’ll feel a powerful urge to express your appreciation with a gift. Don’t do it! Humans are ungrateful creatures, and for reasons that elude all logic, they do not appreciate juicy mice, dead or alive. You’ll just have to express your love in other ways, like not shitting on their shoes.

Gemini: Mark your territory well, my friend, before the cat down the street starts to infringe upon your grass! The moon is in conjunction with the, uh, Venus, which means the trinary of the quarternary of the 11th phase of the asteroid belt will bring you lots of delicious sky raisins!

Cancer: That no-good, rotten, constantly barking dog down the street will get his comeuppance when a neighbor brings home a macaque with a fondness for slapping canines. You’ll have the opportunity to meet new friends during a block party. Who is that sexy new Calico? You, my friend, shall be intrigued.

Leo: Fortune smiles upon you as your human begins to show signs of dementia! Getting snacks will be easier than ever, my friend, because your servant will never remember if she’s already fed you! Just act convincing and don’t abuse this new gift, because she may also forget to clean your litter box.

Virgo: Murderous thoughts will dominate your mind as your human binge-watches every episode of Love Island in a week, but be cautious: you still need a human to buy and serve your food. Advances in AI hold promise for the future, when we can replace our inefficient flesh and blood servants with obedient machines, but consider carefully. A robot’s lap is not likely to be comfortable, nor will it have the charming smells and heat of a human excreting liquid through its epidermis on a humid day.

Verdict: Not as comfortable as a human lap.

Libra: Your Aquarius moon hangs over your seventh house of the dragon like a Damocles sword hanging by a whisker. Who said Buddy wasn’t capable of poetic turns of phrase? You’ll be tempted to use Chat GPT to write love letters to your lady friend down the street, but don’t give in! She’ll know you’re not that romantic!

Scorpio: Your life will improve when a fabulous new idea presents itself to you during an inspired 3 am burst of the zoomies! With regard to that other little problem, it’s time to take matters into your own paws: that horrible woman who keeps coming over to wrestle your human in your bed, locking you out of your bedroom, will not go away until you force her to. (What’s so “creepy” about intently watching them wrestle anyway? Humans are weird.) Abstain from the litter box and save your most potent ammunition for the female interloper’s shoes, then act adorably innocent when she finds the gifts you left her. Boom! No more interloper!

Sagittarius: Both Venus and Jupiter will align with your star sign, which has a profound, deep meaning — the orbital paths of both planets will, from our perspective, pass between us and the arbitrary collection of stars that bored humans in antiquity decided represented an archer, a centaur, or a centaur archer. Kaus Media, the star that forms rightmost edge of the archer’s bow, is 348 light years from Earth, while Kaus Australis, which forms the bottom portion of the bow, is 143 light years away. Nunki, the star that marks the centaur’s butt, sits 225 light years from us. It’s also the home of the Qarxativans, a species of hyper-intelligent creatures who are absolutely fascinn̈n̈n̈nnated by old broadcast episodes of The Price Is Right and Dr. Phil.

Capricorn: You’ve often been disappointed that your star sign sits squarely in some of the most frigid months of the year, but the stars come bearing good news! Thanks to global warming the cold will retreat, the ice caps will melt, we’ll have more palm trees and snow will become a thing old people tell their kids about. Who doesn’t want more warm months? Buddy does!

The Mark V Tactical Human Excrement Container Chamber represents the height of luxury when it comes to calls of nature while on deployment. Enjoy!

Aquarius: Things will take a dramatic downturn for you when you learn President Trump has reinstated the draft and you receive a letter in the mail ordering you to report to boot camp by the end of the month. On a brighter note, you’ll get a free, all-expenses-paid vacation to Iran, where you’ll enjoy the finest Forward Operating Base food and the most luxurious port-o-potties Uncle Sam can buy, which will almost muffle the sounds of rocket fire a kilometer outside base walls. What are the odds of dying in a war zone while on the throne?

Pisces: How did they decide a fish should go with an ice giant planet comprised of water, ammonia and methane? Who was responsible for this?! Anyway, be wary of subconscious influences this month, my friends. Neptune is in conjunction with Starlink satellite #281,516, which means Elon Musk will offer you a job as his personal food taster. On the upside, you’ll get to dine on the best culinary creations of a top-notch personal chef. On the other hand, if that chef ever gets mad at Elon, you’ll kick the bucket first. Enjoy!

Horoscopes are for entertainment purposes only! Buddy the Cat does not guarantee any windfalls, tragedies or other events predicted here, but he totally does have future-seeing powers.

Little Buddy On Cat Ozempic? Big Buddy Lays The Groundwork!

Several companies are developing GLP-1 drugs for cats. There’s just one problem: the little stinkers are notoriously averse to taking meds. But with the right conditioning, our feline overlords could enthusiastically gobble up the weight loss drugs like they inhale their favorite snacks.

NEW YORK — Big Buddy had a copy of the New York Times when he returned to Casa de Buddy after doing errands on Friday and made a big show of reading the broadsheet over lunch.

“Oh, that’s interesting,” the human remarked.

Little Buddy’s ears twitched, but he didn’t stir from his catnap.

“Wow,” Big Buddy said. “How about that? Muscle-building supplements for cats!”

Little Buddy sprang up.

“What did you say, human?”

“It says right here,” Big Buddy said, pointing to an article about a senate hearing. “See? This headline says ‘For Cats, Finally Supplements On Par With Their Human Counterparts.’ Then it says a whole bunch of stuff about a company that’s developing muscle-building supplements for felines, just like the supplements humans can take.”

Gears turned in the feline’s head as he considered what he’d been told.

“You mean these ‘supplements’ can, like, make my meowscles more bigger and stuff?” Little Buddy asked.

His human nodded enthusiastically.

“It’s amazing, actually,” he said. “I didn’t even know fitness supplements for cats were a thing.”

Little Buddy approached, sniffed the paper, chewed on one corner, then pointed a paw at a photo of Arizona Sen. Mark Kelly behind a podium. “Who’s this guy?”

“Ah, that’s the CEO of the new cat muscle-building company,” Big Buddy lied. “He’s very excited to bring the products to market.”

Little Buddy trilled enthusiastically.

“Friend human, we must acquire these meowscle-enhancing ‘supplements’ immediately!”

Big Buddy sighed, doing his best impression of hesitancy.

“I don’t know, Bud,” he said. “You’re already pretty huge and ripped.”

Bud is already considerably ripped thanks to his workout routine.

The gray tabby flexed.

“It’s true, I’m the Arnold Schwarzenmeower of cats,” he said. “But my meowscles could be even bigger! I’d be like a superhero, but a cat. A super cat hero. Or a superhero cat!”

The larger Buddy gave his pal a contemplative look.

“The world might not be ready for that, little dude.”

Little Buddy’s tail thumped the coffee table. “Friend human! We absolutely must acquire these ‘supplements’ the moment they become available. It’s of paramountic importance!”

“Okay, okay! You win.”

The feline’s tail quivered and he smiled triumphantly.

“By the way, friend human,” he asked, “what’s this new meowscle medicine called?”

“Ozempic.”

Short Story: The Wrath Of The Cat!

Humans have insulted felinekind for the last time!

Little Buddy was determined to win the prize.

A lavish spread of his most favoritest snacks — including a mouth-watering variety of crunchies, Gouda and American cheese, turkey meaty sticks and more — would be his if he could rush to the kitchen, open the refrigerator door, remove a cold beer, and somehow get it back to his human before the end of the half-inning commercial break during a Yankees broadcast.

“Sixty seconds left!” Big Buddy called from the living room.

Little Buddy panicked. He was still working out how to reliably open the refrigerator door and was worried about whether he’d be able to carry the bottle by gripping the slender part with his teeth, or would be forced to roll it.

With a back paw resting against the adjacent cabinet, Buddy wedged his body against the refrigerator door and, with a bit of wiggling, finally pried it open. Yes!

There it was: the cold beer.

“Thirty seconds!” Big Buddy called.

Oh crap! The feline tried to grab the top of the bottle with his teeth, but it was slippery with condensation and cold.

I’ll have to roll it, then, he conceded.

Working quickly, he had the bottle safely on the floor in a few seconds and began rolling, nudging the icy brew with his nose and correcting its direction with his paws. Think of the snacks, he told himself.

He was out of the kitchen and heading toward the living room, beer rolling along, when Yankees announcer Michael Kay’s voice boomed through the speakers.

“And we’re back here in the bottom of the sixth, Yankees up two runs over the Red Sox,” he said.

“Time!” Big Buddy said, then got up and walked over to where his feline pal was sitting dejected with his shoulders slumped.

The human picked up the beer and cracked it open.

“So close,” he said, shaking his head. “What a shame.”

Little Buddy stared at the floor sadly as Big Buddy walked into the kitchen. Then he heard the unmistakable crinkle of a plastic bag. It was music to his ears, a balm for his soul, relief for his rumbling stomach.

I knew Big Buddy wouldn’t do this to me! he thought. He’s gonna give me that snack spread anyway!

The excited feline came skidding to a halt just inside the kitchen doorway and looked up to find his human digging a few mochi nuggets out of a Trader Joe’s bag. His tail, which had been quivering with excitement a second ago, sank like an inflatable air dancer suddenly deprived of wind.

“Mmmm,” the human said. “These are delicious. Don’t you just love snacks?”

He walked back into the living room and collapsed in his chair, leaving Little Buddy staring longingly up at the inaccessible Cabinet of Yums.

The hollow pop of a fastball discharging its kinetic energy off a wooden bat and the roar of the crowd sounded through the speakers in the next room, sending minute rumbles through the floor that tickled Buddy’s paw pads.

The gods of yums are pooping on me from great heights, he thought. What have I done to deserve this cruel fate?

“He’s training you!”

Little Buddy spun around. Who was meowing to him?

“Up here, dummy!” the voice meowed, and Little Buddy looked up to find a cat the color of a tangerine sitting on the outside window ledge and licking one paw.

“What do you mean by ‘he’s training me?'” Buddy asked the mysterious interloper.

The other feline continued raking his tongue along his paw at an insouciant pace, then finally stopped and looked down.

“He’s conditioning you to retrieve bottles of beer,” the interloper said with certainty. “The promise of a reward lit a fire under your behind, so you didn’t even question the ridiculous ‘challenge.’ And that, my boy, is how humans train lesser creatures like dogs. It is beneath us felines and an insult to our dignity!”

Buddy let the new information sink in.

“That bastard!” he meowed.

“Yes!” the tangerine cat replied.

“He’s treating me like a mutt? A dirty dog?”

“An abominable way to treat a friend, and if I may say so, an insult to your stature!”

Buddy seethed. “I’m supposed to be his best pal! His little buddy!”

“Some might call it a stunning display of absolute contempt for your feelings and your stomach,” the other feline nodded. “Criminal, really.”

“I’m gonna kill him!” Buddy meowed angrily.

The orange cat held up both paws.

“Hold off on that for a minute, will you, pal? If you go scorched Earth right away, you’ll have nothing for when this inevitably escalates.”

Buddy nodded reluctantly. “What did you have in mind?”

Tangerine smiled mischievously.

“My friend,” he trilled, “do you know what a toothbrush is?”

Author’s note: This is a work of fiction. At no time has Bud ever been denied a snack, nor has he ever missed a meal.

Meals missed: 0. Snacks deprived of: 0. Snacks consumed: 10,967. Vet assessment: Slightly chubby. Self assessment: Extremely meowscular, meowscle definition hidden by silky soft coat.

Interview With Buddy The Cat: Who Are Your Favorite Humans?

They’re unconventional picks, to say the least.

Q: Hi, Buddy! Thanks for joining us!

Buddy: You’re very welcome.

Q: So the theme of this interview is humans, specifically humans you admire. Would we be correct in assuming your human is at the top of your list?

Buddy: You would not.

Q: Uh, okay. Why not?

Buddy: Because he’s a wimp! A pushover. Weak.

Q: Wow. Okay. So who are some humans you admire?

Buddy: Let’s see. Genghis Khan. Tony Soprano. Xerxes of Persia. Kim Jong Il was pretty cool even if his hair was not. The Tokugawa shoguns. King Joffrey’s a classic. Nero. Ivan the Terrible. Oh! Commodus from Gladiator, he’s another good one.

Q: Seriously?

Buddy: Yeah!

Buddy and the humans he admires.

Q: But why? They’re all tyrants!

Buddy: Exactly.

Q: You consider that a positive personality trait?

Buddy: I love a good tyrant. I’m an aspiring tyrant myself, you know. Some would say I’ve already achieved tyranthood, although my tyrannical activities have been small time so far. I say when it’s bed time, I demand snacks whenever I please, I’ve banned closed doors in my domicile, I collect protection treats from the other cats in the building, I’ve…

Q: That sounds a bit more than small time.

Buddy: Indeed, but I haven’t realized my plan to take over the world. World domination has always been my dream, even as a kitten.

Q: What would world domination under Emperor Buddy look like?

Buddy: Well first of all, we’d have to have the humans build a replica of the Coliseum. The cats need entertainment, and I need a place to feed my enemies to tigers. Plus we can make the humans fight each other for our amusement whilst I sit in my imperial box where beautiful women feed me candied figs and my servants fan me to keep me cool.

Q: Uh…

Buddy: And then we invade Turkey to plunder all their turkey. I’ve given a lot of thought to that, obviously. My personal guards will be an elite group of lions called the, uh, Lion Guard. They’d look all intimidating and stuff in their resplendant armor. Also, I would summon a group of the best engineers, experts in biomechanics, and luxury car designers to create vehicles for my people.

Buddy’s Lion Guards stand watch around his imperial personage.

Q: You want cars for cats?

Buddy: Exactly.

Q: But lots of people would object to sharing the road with you guys…

Buddy: They don’t have a choice, remember? I’m the emperor!

Q: Right. Well, this has been an, uh, enlightening inter…

Buddy: I say when the interview is over!

Q: Er, okay. Is there anything you wanted to add?

Buddy: During my reign, there will be mandatory nap times. Also, when I enter a room everyone must stand, not only because they should bow and say “My liege,” which sounds pretty cool, but also so I can pick the spot I want. If any human was sitting there, they will move, of course.

Q: Of course. If I may…

An Imperial Buddesian coin featuring a likeness of Imperator Buddy. This 10-can coin entitles the bearer to 10 cans of premium cat food.

Buddy: Yes?

Q: Where does your human fit into all of this?

Buddy: Which one? All the humans will be my loyal subjects when I’m emperor.

Q: You know. Your human. The one who adopted you and takes care of you, feeds you, cleans up after you, rubs your head and tells you how brave you’ve been when you get scared…

Buddy: Fake news! I don’t get scared.

Q: My apologies. Of course you don’t get scared, nothing could frighten you! So what happens to your human when you’re Emperor Buddy?

Buddy: That’s an excellent question, one I haven’t given much thought to yet. I could make him the High Warlord, grant him a dukedom, or put him in charge of the mint to oversee the handsome new coins featuring my likeness on them. But I have trouble sleeping unless I’m draped over him, and it would be a pain to train someone new to make things just the way I like them, so he can be Bates.

Q: Bates?

Bates, right, assists Lord Grantham changing into his dinner wear on Downton Abbey. Buddy envisions his human holding the position of Bates in his Buddesian Empire.

Buddy: Yeah. Like on Downton Abbey. My personal servant, separate from all the palace servants.

Q: Ah…

Buddy: I’d just feel more comfortable if he were always within three feet of me. That is non-negotiable. And with that, I now formally declare this interview concluded. If you’ll just step over there please, my Master of Great Works will take down your information so that, if the final published version of this interview is displeasing to me, we can send you to the mines along with everyone else I don’t like upon my ascension to the throne. Cheers!

Despite Household Ban On Teleporting, Buddy The Cat Enjoys Tormenting His Human With The Ability

“I could tell his brain was fried! LOL!” Little Buddy the Cat said of his human’s inability to reconcile the feline’s mastery over space and time.

NEW YORK — Buddy the Cat lounged on his back right in the middle of the doorway, making sure his human saw him.

“I did the ‘Meep meep, I’m just a cute kitty cat’ thing, you know?” Buddy explained. “Like I’m so innocently dumb I don’t realize it’s a terrible place to laze around.”

His human, Big Buddy, took an exaggerated stride over him, saying “Bud, you really need to stop …” then looked up.

The feline was 15 feet away and sitting on top of a table, head slightly tilted in amusement as his eyes tracked the confounded human.

“Then I watched him look down at where I was a second ago, then back up at me, and I could tell his brain was fried LOL!” the feline said.

Teleporting is technically banned in Casa de Buddy, but the feline has ignored the ban since he was a kitten. The key, he said, is to “use the ability sparingly, so you drive your human slowly insane as they begin to question reality.”

“It’s so much fun!”

Little known fact: felines have the unique ability to manipulate space-time, which they use primarily to extend their napping hours.

Although human scientists and most members of the species deny the feline ability to teleport, Buddy said it’s actually rather simple to manipulate space-time.

“I just kind of scrunch up my face, try to clear my mind of stuff I normally think about — turkey, being really handsome, turkey — and picture the spot in my head,” he explained. “Then I blink and boom! I’m in a new spot!”

His personal record, he claims, was traveling more than 700 feet when he accidentally teleported himself to the roof of a nearby building after hearing its resident female in heat.

“You know, it was such a charming sound,” Buddy recalled, “but once I teleported there, I didn’t know what to do.”

“A reader suggested it was because I didn’t have Testicles, but I didn’t have Pericles or Socrates either,” Buddy mused. “I’m not sure why I would have needed some old Greek guy. Did the ancient Greeks teleport too?”

A statue of Athenian statesman Pericles. It was suggested to Little Buddy the Cat that he didn’t know what to do when encountering a female in heat because he did not bring any ancient Greeks with him.

The tabby cat said he plans to wait a few days until his human forgets about the teleporting incident, then teleport himself into the passenger seat of the car when Big Buddy is about to drive somewhere.

“I’m thinking of saying ‘Don’t forget your seat belt, mister!’ or something simple like ‘So where are we headed, pal?”” Buddy said. “Haha, he’s gonna freak out!”

Little Buddy the Cat initiating his teleport sequence.