Oh Oh Oh Ozempic For Our Oh Oh Oh Obese Cats? It’s Close To Reality

In apocalyptic news for house cats everywhere, a pharmaceutical company is kicking off a trial of a GLP-1 drug for felines.

If cats could read newspapers, chances are they’d be gripped by a cold terror right about now, wondering if they’re among the unfortunates to have their yums curtailed by the same weight loss drugs their humans have been gobbling.

As the New York Times reports, a biopharma company headquartered in San Francisco, Okava Pharmaceuticals, is about to begin a trial to determine if GLP-1 drugs can help our chonksters slim down. More than 60 percent of American pets are packing extra pounds, the Times notes, while consequences like diabetes are shortening the lifespans and reducing quality of life for felines and canines.

“It is our belief that the condition of obesity, the condition of being overweight, is by far the number one most significant preventative health challenge in all of veterinary medicine,” Okava founder and CEO Michael Klotsman told the paper.

The upcoming study will include 50 cats. Most will receive a GPL-1 medication while a control group — about one third of the cats — will be given a placebo.

Since cats aren’t exactly known for being cooperative when it comes to taking oral medicine and weekly injections at a veterinary office are impractical, Okava has developed a system with a patch about the size of a microchip that will dispense the weight loss drugs over six months before a tiny cartridge needs to be replaced.

If all goes well with the trial, Okava will seek FDA approval and address other obstacles like convincing caretakers that their little pals can benefit from the feline version of Ozempic, Mounjaro and Wegovy.

That may be easier said than done considering our relationships with our furry friends and the role food plays in things like training, bonding and every day life

For lots of cat caretakers “their main way that they interact with and show their love to their pet often revolves around food,” Dr. Maryanne Murphy, a veterinary nutritionist at the University of Tennessee, told the Times.

How could the dynamic between cat and human change if the flow of yums is reduced to meals only? Will training — for everything from walking on a harness, to entering a carrier and fun tricks like high fives — still work if the reward is just a bit of encouragement or a scratch behind the ear?

An earlier weight loss drug developed for dogs, Slentrol, did not catch on because, as one veterinarian noted, “the main way [people] interacted with their pet was by feeding them, and seeing their excitement and happiness when they were eating the food.”

There’s also the not-so-small matter of cost. GLP-1 drugs are in high demand, and they’re expensive. One in eight Americans has taken Ozempic or one of its competitors. At times, the demand has threatened availability for diabetics, for whom the drugs were developed in the first place.

If the trials are successful and the GLP-1 drugs for pets gain FDA approval — which would require a series of much larger scale, more rigorous studies — the company hopes to offer them to consumers at a cost of about $100 per month per pet.

Even if this iteration of the drug fails, it’s unlikely to derail the larger effort. Vets have been prescribing tiny doses of the human version to cats with diabetes, and perhaps most telling of all, pet obesity continues to rise despite years of efforts by the veterinarian community to get people to play with their pets more and feed them less.

As Dr. Ernie Ward, a veterarian and founder of the Association for Pet Obesity Prevention, told the paper: “We haven’t moved the needle.”


And now we check in with our correspondent, Buddy the Cat. Buddy, what do you think about the possibility of GLP-1 for your species and the end of the proverbial gravy train?

Buddy? Bud? Are we having technical difficulties?

I’m sorry, ladies and gentlemen, we can’t find Buddy the Cat. We’ll resume this segment if and when we manage to locate him.

Dear Buddy: Do All Cats Look Like Wrinkly Aliens Under Their Fur?

Would your cat resemble a sphynx if you shaved its fur? Buddy the Cat investigates!

Dear Buddy,

Do all cats look like sphynxes underneath their coats? What I mean is, if someone were to shave off all your fur, would you look like a weird wrinkly little alien thing too?

Wondering In Wyoming

Dear Wondering,

Who told you that? Is Big Buddy planning to have me shaved? Is he gonna condemn me to one of those “groomers” and have me transformed into some undignified, naked, dumb-looking creature?

I will end him!

Buddy

Dear Buddy,

Whoah, hold up there, champ! No one’s got anything planned for you, it’s just a hypothetical. I’m genuinely curious about the no fur thing, that’s all. And I asked you because you’re the expert on every topic!

Wondering in Wyoming

Wondering,

Okay, okay, but I’m not letting my guard down. As the wise man George W. Bush once said: “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me…uh, you can’t get fooled again!”

I thought about your question and became more curiositized as well because sphynxes are weird and I don’t want to look like those freaks. Get mistaken for one and the next thing you know, they’re bringing you back to their mothership.

Above: These sphynxes are plotting your doom! They want to beam you up to their ship, test your skin for potential scratching post material, and eat your brains.

I can assure you that I would not resemble a sphynx if somehow I was overpowered (a tall order that would require a small army), drugged and shaved of my luxurious fur. I would just look more ripped, as there wouldn’t be any long fur to cover up my six pack and my rippling meowscles.

Due to his impressive meowsculature, Buddy would simply look even more ripped if someone with a death wish tried to shave his fur.

As for other cats, apparently they would not look like sphynxes either, because those freaks are uniquely covered in wrinkly skin, which is probably a side effect of the strange atmospheric conditions on their homeworld.

During my detailed investigatory investigation, I found images of domestic shorthairs, Maine Coons, Persians, Bengals, ragdolls and many other types of cats who were forced to endure ignominious “lion cuts” and other ridiculous “grooming” efforts. While many of them looked skinny and much less impressive without their fur bulking them up, they pretty much look like regular cats with a fuzzy, velvety coat instead of fluff.

Not as ripped as me, obviously, but not like sphynxes either.

I hope that answers your question. Remain vigilant, my friend! One never knows when one’s devious human might decide to humiliate one by shaving off all of one’s fur.

Your friend,

Buddy

Felines Evaluate Human Looks, Temperament And Behavior At 8th Annual People Fancy Show

Cats judged their humans based on appearance, obedience and other categories at the Jacob Javitz Center in Manhattan.

NEW YORK — Marvin Wheeler was on all fours, with a pair of cats holding his mouth open with their paws and another wrapping a tape measure around his waist.

“The torso should be medium in proportion to the rest of the body,” a ginger tabby said, “while the snout –“

Wheeler yelped as the tabby gave his nose a firm slap with her paw.

“– should be slender and no more than half an inch above the top lip.”

Wheeler grunted as a Maine Coon shoved him off the table, and a trio of feline judges held up scorecards, awarding the engineer from New Jersey a 5.5, 6, and 5 out of 10 respectively.

“Does anyone have any objections?” asked the master of ceremonies, a rotund Norwegian forest cat named Milo.

Wheeler’s feline shook her head, and Milo leaned forward toward his mic. “Next!”

Feline judges award scores to one of the competitors at the 8th Annual People Fancy Show.

“Bring her up, fellas,” he continued, gesturing toward several cats escorting 53-year-old Martha Silverwind to the stage.

“Okay, next we have a librarian from Toronto, Canada, who is here for her first human show. We’re gonna be evaluating her on temperament, hair color, obedience training…”

More than 1,000 people were examined and judged by cats this weekend at the Jacob Javitz Center in New York for the 8th Annual Human Show sponsored by the Human Fancy League of America and the Society For Better Homes For Felines.

Helena Chione, an astronomer from Houston, Texas, waits for to be evaluated by judges on Saturday at the Jacob Javitz Center in New York, site of the 8th Annual Human Show. Her feline, Clyde, entered her in the Best Temperament category.

Ronald Greer, a dermatologist from Grewnwich, Conn., patiently waited for his turn while relaxing in his cage, which held a small bowl of cereal, a bottle of Poland Spring water and a chamber pot.

“I saw an ad for the show, and I thought, ‘Simba, why not see how Ronnie stacks up against other humans?'” Greer’s feline told a reporter. “I’ve been training him for more than two years now, and I’d say he responds maybe 80, 85 percent of the time I call him. Ideally I’d like to get it as close to 100 percent of the time as possible, because I don’t like to repeat myself when I’m hungry. But you know how it is with these humans. They have minds of their own.”

Simba sat outside Greer’s crate, encouraging the human to groom himself before the judges called his number.

Last year’s best in class in the age 20 to 29 bracket was Louisa Rey, a writer for Spyglass Magazine. Feline judges praised Rey’s responsiveness when commanded to serve snacks and commended her dark brown mane, describing it as “an ideal for a human of her age and gender” and complimenting her cat, Marcy, for “doing an outstanding job training her.”

Singer Taylor Swift took home honors in the 2024 People Fancy event for performing the best tricks, including one sequence, described as “adorable” by the judges, in which she giggled, cheered and smiled as she pretended to be fascinated by an American football game.

This year’s favorite in the best tricks category is Jonah Grayer, a 31-year-old attorney from Long Island, NY. Grayer, a magician by hobby, cocked his head to one side as his cat, Sebastian, rested a paw on his cage.

“Who’s a good boy,” Sebastian asked, dropping a cheeseburger slider into Grayer’s cage. “Who’s the best boy in the world? Jonah is! That’s right! Now let’s impress those judges!”

Some People Bestow An Absurd Number Of Nicknames On Their Cats

Pity the poor pets who must endure being called Shmubbles, Miss Hissy Cakes and Mr. Oo Oo Ah Ah.

In a viral Reddit thread, a user reveals she’s given her cat more than 20 nicknames, and a surprising number of fellow Redditors have weighed in with long lists of names they call their furry friends.

The original poster’s list is extensive: “Milo (his real name), Milosh, Baby, Mr Baby, Mr Meh, Mr Mrreh, Mr Moo, Mr Milo, Mr Handsome, Mr Eh Eh, Mr Oo Oo, Mr Oo Oo Ah Ah, Mr Baum Baum, Mr Grumpidy Bumpidy, Mr Ping, Mr Pink Pitty Pads, Mr Orange, Mr Punchy, Mr Puffy Pants, Mr Pretty Pants, Mr Princess”

“Valentina. AKA Tina, Valley Girl, Teenie, Teenie Weenie, Queenie Teenie Beanie, Tina Beana, Fluffer, Fluffercakes, Missy Hissy Cakes, Missy Floofy Pants, Felix, Felick, Felicky, Baby Girl, Mama’s Baby Girl.” another wrote.

Another: “Luna, which turns into Lu, Fluff, Fluff Bucket, Fluff Butt, Fuzz Butt, Fuzz face, or various meowing sounds.”

Most of the people who responded to the thread have handles that mark them as female, and I’m going to go ahead and assume the vast majority of the others are too.

You just can’t call your cat Shmubbles or Mr. Grumpidy Bumpidy and retain your man card. It is not possible.

Here at Casa de Buddy, we keep it simple: Bud or Buddy. I feel like if I just start freestyling names, little man is going to be confused.

Call me “Mr. Buddy Wuddy” and I’ll murder you, human.

Indeed, that’s the subject of Mollie Hunt’s Oct. 6 post, “What’s In A Name?”, which notes we should call our cats by their proper names for good, practical reasons: not confusing the little ones, getting them accustomed to responding to their names, and the peace of mind that comes with knowing they’ll respond in an emergency.

Research has repeatedly confirmed what we’ve all known anecdotally: domestic felines know their names and they even know the names of other cats they live with. They may not always deem a human worthy of a response, but they hear us and they know we’re calling for them.

I do call Bud other things, but they tend to be invented by my sleep-deprived brain when he insists on screeching in my ears or standing on my face to get me out of bed.

They’re not really nicknames so much as they’re insults, but don’t worry — no egos were bruised in the process. In the past I’ve thrown pillows at him for his relentless assaults on my sleep, and he seems to think that’s hilarious.

So yes, in the momentary anger of getting woken up for the fifth time in an hour, while he’s standing on my face and the tips of his back claws are digging into my cheek, I might mumble “Shut up, you furry little turdball!” or threaten to defenestrate him like an out-of-favor Russian oligarch.

But I dote on the little guy, function as his faithful servant, and try to give him his best life. I’ve also seriously considered constructing a throne for him. What’s a little “annoying little jerk” between friends? It all evens out!

Buddy The Cat Dismounts Couch In Laziest Way Imaginable, Sources Say

Witnesses praised the slothful feline’s dedication to the path of least resistance.

NEW YORK — In a sluggish ballet involving gravity, the malleability of couch cushions and an ironclad commitment to expending minimal effort, Buddy the Cat unburdened the couch of his weight on Saturday.

Sources said the feline signaled his intent to leave the couch with a subtle shift of his weight, applying just enough pressure to angle the cushion downward and allow gravity to assert its tug on his portly frame.

What followed was a 15-minute process sources described as “like watching the last glob of ketchup slide out of a glass bottle.” Yawning with the non-effort, Buddy allowed gravity to shift his bulk millimeter by millimeter until part of his pudgy primordial pouch and one chonky leg dangled over the edge of the cushion.

Buddy pictured shortly before committing to his gravity-assisted dismount.

Within another five minutes the remarkably lazy tabby cat had crossed a gravitational Rubicon and the edge of the cushion gave way, allowing him to drip languidly off the side of the couch and onto the floor.

Shifting his weight just enough to begin the slow process of sliding off the cushion.

Buddy sat up, licked his left paw, then roused himself with a trill and sauntered over to his dining nook to lap up some water.

“It’s a bit like watching paint dry, but I applaud his unwavering commitment to laziness,” said a witness. “This is obviously a cat for whom even the thought of burning a single calorie is deeply offensive.”

Buddy was last seen screeching at his human to fetch him a snack to replenish his “electrolytes and stuff” after his arduous walk to his bowls in the adjacent room.

Buddy using his human’s leg as a pillow.