The apex predator of the household failed to wake up when a mouse invaded his territory, but totally would have taken care of it had he been awake, obviously.
NEW YORK — Buddy the Cat didn’t even lift a paw when a mouse invaded his domicile on Tuesday.
The gray tabby cat, who often brags of his “huge meowscles” and martial prowess, did not stir from his nap and remained asleep for the duration of the encounter, witnesses said.
“He was completely, utterly useless,” his human, Big Buddy, said. “Aren’t cats supposed to be the bane of rodents? Don’t they have super sensitive hearing that can home in on the high frequency squeaks of mice?”
Buddy, who only stirred after the mouse was removed from the premises, stood up and yawned, then asked what all the commotion was about.
“Oh,” he said. “Well that mouse was really lucky I was napping, otherwise I’d do something totally badass.”
As of press time, human concern was centered on acquiring mouse traps at the store, but Buddy insisted that wouldn’t be necessary.
“I will roar and the mouses won’t come near here again,” he said, bellowing in his Elmo-like voice. “There. Problem solved.”
Update: In honor of Buddy’s glorious and momentous victory, we’ve created the following artwork:
Snowball is the first animal known to dance to the rhythm of music, while Ruby is, well, Ruby.
We take a break from our regularly-scheduled cats to check in on two remarkable birds: Snowball the incredible dancing cockatoo, and Ruby the infamously foul-mouthed African grey parrot.
Both animals have been the subject of viral videos, but haven’t become ubiquitous memes or the sort of superstar that transcends certain corners of the internet.
Snowball is clearly the more wholesome of the two, and it’s immediately apparent why: He dances.
Actually, that’s underselling it. Snowball doesn’t just dance, he feels the beat and moves with it, timing his dance moves — headbangs, foot-wiggles, side-steps and more — to the music, often the snare like people do. Snowball isn’t the first animal to move to music, but he’s the first animal to groove to music, which is an important distinction.
“His owner had realized that he couldn’t care for the sulfur-crested cockatoo any longer. So in August 2007, he dropped Snowball off at the Bird Lovers Only rescue center in Dyer, Indiana—along with a Backstreet Boys CD, and a tip that the bird loved to dance. Sure enough, when the center’s director, Irena Schulz, played “Everybody,” Snowball “immediately broke out into his headbanging, bad-boy dance,” she recalls. She took a grainy video, uploaded it to YouTube, and sent a link to some bird-enthusiast friends. Within a month, Snowball became a celebrity. When a Tonight Show producer called to arrange an interview, Schulz thought it was a prank.”
Other animals are prompted to motion by music, but they don’t time their motions to the beat. Snowball’s talents have attracted curious neuroscientists, who believe Snowball is able to coordinate his body movements with the rhythm because, like humans, he can process language.
It might seem a little odd that such an ability seems to hinge on language until you realize that language itself is rhythmic, ordered sound, and that human communication often pairs speech with coordinated movements. (Think of people who “talk” with their hands, TV presenters who move their heads for emphasis or the simple act of nodding, shaking your head or shrugging to punctuate a point.)
Scientists study Snowball because he’s inherently fascinating, but also because he can help us understand how birds and humans communicate, and how homo sapiens and certain avian species, out of all the animals on Earth, developed this skill.
Ruby the Foul-Mouthed African Grey Parrot
Ruby is a different case entirely. She’s interesting to internet audiences because she’s hilarious, and if she holds academic appeal, it’s because of the way she’s been socialized and the things she’s learned.
Ruby, one of Youtube’s earliest viral stars, lives with her human, Nick Chapman, in Brighton, UK.
First thing’s first: If you’re put off by obscenities or you’re easily offended, you should take a pass on these videos.
For everyone else, well, it’s not just that Ruby swears. That sort of novelty would wear off quick. What makes Ruby unique — and consistently hilarious — is that she’s inventively obscene, working insults into unique combinations. And, as you’ll see, she swears in French as well as heavily-accented UK English. It’s the latter that often makes for her most amusing outbursts.
“I love you,” Ruby tells Chapman in one video.
“Well that’s a nice change, sweetheart!” Chapman says.
“Bollocks.” Ruby takes a half step to her right on the small platform in front of her cage, turning her head toward Chapman. “You fat bastard!”
Chapman laughs. “I knew that wouldn’t last.”
Ruby’s foul language is unmistakably British and as casually vicious as it gets. She hurls invective at the seagulls who are a constant presence in seaside Brighton and expresses her love for Chapman by insulting him.
“Fuck off, you tw-t!” the bird says, prompting laughter from Chapman.
“Oh dear,” Chapman says. “That’s not nice!”
“Eh,” Ruby says. “Tw-t! You’re not funny.”
“I know I’m not funny. I’m immature, I’m irresponsible. But so what?”
In another video, Chapman tries to engage Ruby by telling her he loves her in French.
Ruby sits motionless for a few long seconds, then utters a single syllable with expert comedic timing: “Tw-t!”
Chapman does a deep belly laugh.
“Shut up, c–t!’ Ruby says. “You f—er!’
“Oh dear,” Chapman says between laughs. “You’re shocking, you know that?”
One thing becomes abundantly clear over the course of just a few videos: Chapman loves Ruby and, despite the constant verbal abuse she directs toward him, she loves Chapman too.
For a man who owns a bird who loves foul language, you’d think Chapman would have a dirty mouth, but for the most part he doesn’t. It’s often impossible to predict what a parrot will pick up on.
Ruby is quick to pick up on new words, and Chapman thinks she likes the harsh sounds of some of the language’s most offensive insults. (Perhaps it’s no mistake that many of the most vulgar words in English have a guttural quality, reflecting their meaning.)
Long before Ruby became a Youtube star, Chapman said he realized the potential for awkwardness. One day he was strolling along the waterfront in Brighton when an older woman stopped to chat and asked about Ruby.
“She’s beautiful,” the woman said, admiring the African grey.
“Shut your c–t!” Ruby snapped back.
The shocked woman looked at Chapman, who pretended he hadn’t heard what his bird said.
The issue of whether parrots understand what they’re saying still hasn’t been settled. Like some other animals — cats and dogs among them — they can understand words in their contextual meanings, though it’s very unlikely a swearing parrot knows precisely what it’s doing.
Then again, to insist parrots are just repeating sounds would be to discount examples like the late Alex, an African grey who could count, distinguish between different items by color and shape, and allegedly innovate to some extent.
Then there’s this video of a parrot telling a cat to “shut the f— up” as the cat meows. It makes me wonder, if I had a parrot, what the bird would pick up from my conversations with Buddy. There’d be a lot of “Hi, Bud!” and “What a good boy!”, and the vast majority of it would be kind, patient and loving, but I won’t pretend there aren’t times when I’ve told him I can’t take any more of his hours-long discourses on teleportation, turkey or unifying classical and quantum physics.
That said, I wouldn’t change a thing about Buddy. He’s my Buddy.
Pretty soon no one will want to watch the little guy. 😦
I’ve been in Washington, D.C. the last few days and have left Buddy in the care of his long-time sitter, a friend who has known him since he was a kitten.
You may recall I wrote about howhe attacked her back in the summer of 2020, but she’s such a nice person that she continued to look after him, including during my trip to the Outer Banks earlier this year and my current absence.
If she won’t care for Buddy in the future, I can’t blame her. Bud attacked her this time for the unspeakable crime of…playing with him! (She’s had several cats of her own, so it’s not like she doesn’t know how to interact with a feline.)
I fear I am going to have to hire men armed with tactical gear and ballistic shields, who will breach the apartment, refill Bud’s bowls under the protection of a phalanx of shields, and then make careful egress without taking their eyes off him.
Either that or board him, which probably won’t go well.
Ah well. I’ll see him tomorrow. He’ll probably run to the door to greet me and rub up against me, then remember he’s supposed to be mad at me. He’ll give me a dismissive “Hrrrrrrmmmmph!” and pad off to ignore me for as long as he can before returning to his normal behavior.
Cats and humans began their grand partnership some 10,000 years ago, when kitties handled humans’ pesky rodent problem and people repaid the felines with food, shelter and companionship.
Now the deal’s off, apparently.
Yesterday a Reddit user shared a video titled “When you get a cat hoping it will help you get rid of the big rat in your yard.”
The video shows the user’s new cat, a tortoiseshell/calico, “solving” the rat problem by befriending the rodent, playing with it and even grooming it.
The video has amassed almost 86,000 upvotes in 24 hours.
The odd friendship between feline and rodent is not without precedent. Studies have shown that cats are not effective rodent hunters in urban settings where rats have gone unchallenged for so long that they rival or exceed the size of most members of Felis catus.
In certain neighborhoods of New York City, for example, researchers observed cats essentially ignoring massive rats and in some cases eating trash side by side with them. The largest rats, apparently aware of the truce, are equally unconcerned by the presence of the cats. Other rats were more cautious around kitties.
The scene reminded me of the time my brother wanted me to bring Bud over to handle his rat problem. At the time he was living on 88th St. in Manhattan, less than a block from Gracie Mansion. His apartment had an unusual perk for Manhattan living — it was a spacious ground floor flat that opened up into a private, fenced-in backyard with grass and a few trees.
Tremble before him! Buddy the Mighty Slayer of Rodents!
In fact, it was one of the first places I took Buddy after adopting him. He was just a kitten, maybe 14 weeks old, and I brought him with me on a warm summer day when my brother had a few friends over for a barbecue.
Buddy made fast friends with my brother’s Chihuahua-terrier mix, Cosmo, and spent the day playing with his doggie cousin, frolicking in the grass and chasing bugs around the yard. Then he got a treat: Steak from the grill, chopped into tiny Buddy-size pieces.
Having a backyard in Manhattan was awesome, but there was a downside. At night the yard was like a stretch of highway for marauding rats who ran across it in numbers with impunity, probably en route to raiding the garbage bins of a bodega on the corner of 88th. The rats were so emboldened and so numerous, you could hear them scurrying across the yard at night.
My brother proposed bringing Buddy over and letting him loose in the yard after dark, letting his claws and predatorial instincts thin the rodential herd.
I declined, using the excuse that Bud could pick up diseases from going to war with the rats. That was true, but I’m sure it wouldn’t have come to that: At the first sign of those rats, Buddy would have run screaming!
(We don’t acknowledge that around him, of course. Officially, Buddy was not set loose upon the Manhattan rats because it would be grossly unfair to unleash such a meowscular, brave and battle-hardened feline warrior upon them.)
It’s one thing if Buddy won’t kill rats. He’s a wimp. But as the Reddit video illustrates, we are apparently closing the chapter on 10,000 glorious years of human-feline partnership, and officially entering the Era of Zero Reciprocity.
We do everything for our cats, and in return they nap, eat and allow us to serve them. From their point of view, it’s a fine deal.
Just look at those meowscular guns and vicious claws!
As one of the bravest cats on planet Earth, Buddy is uniquely qualified to advise scaredy cats who get easily freaked out by horror movies.
Dear Buddy,
My human likes to watch horror movies and they’re freaking me out! I can’t even look at mirrors since we watched Oculus, I jump at shadows ever since watching 30 Days of Night, and I wet my favorite napping spot the night we saw The Ring.
But it gets worse! My human spent almost two weeks watching a TV series called The Haunting of Hill House, which was so scary, scarier than vacuum cleaners and filled with terrifying scenes! It had all kinds of monsters and people dying and countless sinister-looking ghosts hidden in the background of every scene.
Buddy, I can’t sleep at night, even with my human. I’m scared of monsters in the closet or under the bed, and ghosts outside the bedroom door. I’m scared they’re gonna get me in my sleep!
Help me, Buddy!
Terrified in Tallahassee
Dear Tallahassee,
You’ve come to the right cat, amigo! Among our kind the name Buddy is synonymous with bravery as well as good looks and charm, and I’m known for keeping my cool in circumstances that would reduce lesser cats to frazzled, freaked-out messes.
I’m going to let you in on a little secret, one they don’t teach to just any cat or kitten: Get under the blankets!
Blankets: The secret weapon.
You see, blankets are about more than keeping those furless humans warm when they sleep. Blankets have magical properties that repel monsters and ghosts. They’re like shields or magic force fields!
Humans know that if you’re scared and you think there might be monsters in your home, the best solution is to get completely under the blankets, wrap yourself up nice and cozy and rest easy knowing the safety they will afford you until sunrise, when ghosts and monsters have to retreat or die in the sunlight. (Or was that vampires? I get things mixed up sometimes.)
Anyway, being the brave cat I am, I’m totally not scared of anything and I don’t have to hide under blankets. In fact, my human sleeps easy knowing that I’m guarding him. But if I were scared, Tallahassee, I’d dive under some magical blankets and feel my worries melt away.
Your fearless friend,
Buddy
Buddy is widely regarded as one of the bravest cats in the world.
Pain In The Bud 