As veterinarians treat the surviving animals for ailments like smoke inhalation and burned paws, donors from all over the world have contributed $750,000 to help the newly homeless moggies and ensure Happy Cat continues in some form.
Investigators are still looking for the exact cause of Monday’s fire, which claimed the life of a New York cat sanctuary founder and about 100 of its feline residents, but they now say the blaze doesn’t look suspicious.
The fire started inside the main structure at Happy Cat sanctuary, Brookhaven Fire Marshal Chris Mehrmann told local media, and investigators “cannot rule out a fire caused by propane-fed portable heaters that were in the area of fire origin.”
Happy Cat founder Christopher Arsenault, 65, was found on the second floor of the building surrounded by animals he was trying to rescue. Neighbors told investigators that they saw Arsenault emerge from the home with several cats, then dash back inside in an attempt to rescue more of the felines he cared for.
When Arsenault converted the home into a sanctuary, he cut holes in the walls and floors to create passages for the cats. Unfortunately, Mehrmann said, the fire spread more quickly because of those modifications.
In the meantime, people from the local community, the SPCA and privately run animal welfare organizations have teamed up to care for the 200 or so surviving felines. Donations have also come pouring in from all over the world, totaling more than $750,000 as of Friday morning.
More than $670,000 of the funds have come from 13,000-plus cat lovers from dozens of countries who contributed to a GoFundMe drive started by Lisa Jaeger of Jaeger’s Run Animal Rescue in nearby Port Jefferson, NY.
A memorial image created by Loving Paws, a small rescue in Suffolk County, Long Island.
The surviving cats have a range of injuries, from minor sprains to life-threatening lung damage from smoke inhalation. Volunteers have spent the past several days trying to collect the traumatized animals from the vicinity of the destroyed sanctuary.
“I knew Chris well. I knew when he started. He died doing what he loved… rescuing animals,” said Robert Misseri, co-founder of Paws of War, which brought a mobile veterinary clinic to the site of the former sanctuary this week. “The very least we can do is continue his legacy and make sure that every single one [of the] cats get the proper love and care that they need to move forward.”
Veterinarians said they’ve treated lots of cats with burnt paws. Although the animals are skittish from the harrowing experience, rescues and shelters in the area are helping them find forever homes, veterinarian Jason Michael Heller told ABC News.
“We’re going to ask for our colleagues in the area here, hopefully, to take a few cats and try to get them healthy enough to be able to eat and be adopted,” Heller said.
People in the Long Island rescue community are also working on a public memorial for Arsenault, a man who dedicated his entire life to the animals in his care.
“There’s not going to be another Chris, ever, who does this,” said John Spat of Animal Protection Service, “and all we can do is try to recover what he was trying to do and try to move forward and help his organization work forward.”
A woman asks Reddit if she overreacted when she tossed her friend out over the way the friend treated her cat.
A Redditor has been assured she didn’t overreact after recounting a disturbing incident involving one of her friends and her cat.
Describing her cat as “super friendly, but a little skittish” and prefacing the anecdote by noting she always asks guests “to be gentle with her,” the Redditor relayed what happened when her cat jumped onto the couch near the seated guest.
“Out of nowhere, my friend shoved her off the couch. Not a little nudge—an actual shove that made her hit the floor hard. My cat ran and hid under my bed, and I lost it. I asked them what the hell that was, and they just laughed and said, ‘Relax, it’s just a cat.'”
“I told them to get out immediately. They acted like I was overreacting, saying they didn’t mean to hurt her and that it wasn’t a big deal. But my cat was terrified, and I don’t care if it was intentional or not—that kind of reaction to an innocent animal is not okay with me.”
The offending party is telling mutual friends that the Redditor “threw them out over ‘nothing,'” but others in their social circle have “admitted they never liked how this friend treated animals.”
Still, some told the woman she may have been too harsh for telling the cat-shover to leave immediately.
What do you think?
Tornado of claws!
For what it’s worth, most people who responded to the AITA (“Am I The Asshole?”) thread sided with the poster, and others pointed out that someone who will casually shove a cat off a couch while the caretaker is right there might do much worse if no one’s around. In other words, don’t let that person watch your cat under any circumstances.
I have never had this problem, obviously, because no one would dare shove my incredibly ripped and meowscular cat.
Jokes aside, I can’t imagine anyone I’m friends with would harm him when they know how much little dude means to me.
And as much of a wimp Bud is when it comes to vacuums, loudly crinkling paper bags and Swiffers, he has absolutely no fear of people. If someone tried to shove or toss him off a couch, I’d actually feel sorry for them, because the next instant would involve 11 pounds of furball screeching like a furious Elmo while producing a tornado of claws.
Reddit’s AITA is a reliable source of insight into antisocial behavior and social faux pas, which makes it fun to browse, but it also offers people a chance to gauge if they’ve overreacted in heated situations.
What would you have done if you were in the Redditor’s shoes?
The animated feature about a cat surviving an apocalyptic flood has racked up awards and earned universal acclaim.
It’s been quite a year for Latvian animator Gints Zilbalodis and Cat, the star of Flow.
Their film won an Oscar for best animated feature film, racked up wins at the Golden Globes and smaller film festivals, became the most-watched film in Latvian history, snuggled its way into the hearts of audiences in the US, Europe and Asia, and enjoys incredibly rare universal accolades from critics and viewers alike, scoring 97 and 98 percent with each group respectively on film review site Rotten Tomatoes.
Now Cat has officially recognized his Oscar by doing precisely what his species loves to do. In a short video posted by Zilbalodis, Cat smacks the golden statue off the railing of his boat and onto the deck, to the annoyance of his lemur buddy.
Buddy’s back at it, trying to befriend big cats. Emboldened by his success with the tolerant and wise jaguars, the reckless tabby has his sights set on the savanna and its temperamental predators, the leopards. Can Buddy win the admiration of these notoriously dangerous felids, or will he end up as a light snack for a spotted cat?
VIRUNGA NATIONAL PARK, Democratic Republic of Congo — “What the heck is that?”
A leopardess raised her head in response to her mate’s question, gazing down from the sturdy limb of an acacia tree where she’d taken refuge from the scorching midday sun.
Two hundred yards ahead, a tiny gray cat was padding toward them, picking his way carefully around rocks and occasionally disappearing in the high grass.
“There’s nothin’ that a hundred men on Mars could ever do,” the little feline sang as he walked. “I bless the rains down in Africa! I bless the rains down in…”
The diminutive feline stopped near the base of the tree and looked up at the leopards.
The adult leopards were momentarily stunned until one of the cubs awoke from her nap, spotted Buddy and exclaimed: “Look, mommy, lunch!”
The small cat flashed a wide smile.
“That’s a great idea! I’ve already eaten, but you know what they say: a lunch a day barely keeps the rumbles at bay! I’m a three-lunch cat, myself. So what are we having?”
Another cub piped up.
“That’s not lunch, that’s a snack!” he told his sister.
“And what a cute little snack he is!” the female cub said, gracefully dropping from her napping spot in the tree.
Buddy’s eyes bulged.
“You’re…you’re talking about me?”
The male cub did a squeaky impression of a roar.
“Do you see any other single-serve snacks around?”
Buddy licked his lips, his effort to hide his fear betrayed by his rising hackles and tail, which now resembled a quivering spiked club.
“I…I…I am a cat,” he said in his best impression of an authoritative meow. “I’m practically your cousin!”
The female was just paces away now and moving too fast for Buddy’s liking as he backpedaled.
“The question is,” she said, “are you tasty like cousin Serval or cousin cheetah?”
Credit: RudiHulshof/iStock
Buddy changed tactics.
“This is an outrage! Not even the tigers tried to eat me! This is…this is, uh, catibalism!”
The cubs were circling him now.
“Mommy, can we have a snack?” the male cub called, looking back at his mother on the tree.
“As long as it doesn’t spoil your dinner later,” came the reply.
“It won’t, mamma!”
Buddy gulped.
The cubs closed the distance, ready to strike, and Buddy was babbling while pleading for his life when the earth itself shook.
Branches jolted and leaves dropped. A flock of birds nesting in a nearby tree took off, silhouettes etching ephemeral geometric patterns in the sky. In the distance, a baboon shrieked a warning to its troop.
The cubs went from aggressive to retreat in the span of an instant, and even their parents looked alarmed, taking off after their young.
Buddy watched them flee, wondering if he should bolt in another direction as something incomprehensibly gargantuan lumbered toward him, shaking the trees.
He’d emptied his bowels by the time a gigantic head poked through the foliage, followed by the rest of the colossal beast. It was gray-skinned, leathery and bizarre, unlike anything Buddy had ever seen.
“Giant space aliens!” he screamed, turning around and running right into a tree trunk.
“Ahhhhh! Don’t eat me!”
Buddy awoke in a sweat, his fur damp in the soupy, stifling heat.
An entire platoon of the peculiar beasts stood around him, their sizes ranging from 25 Buddies in mass to freakishly large individuals sporting pairs of prodigious teeth that looked like scimitars made of bone.
“Einstein’s awake,” one of them rumbled, and the rest turned from stuffing themselves with leaves to get a better look at the Liliputian animal before them.
“What is that thing?” one of them asked.
“It’s a fun-size cheetah!” one exclaimed confidently.
“No, it’s a baby Serval!” another said. “But the color’s all wrong.”
In the distance, a giraffe poked its head above the tree line, pausing to munch on the silky pink flowers of a mimosa tree.
Buddy was saved from hungry leopards by friendly giant space aliens!
Buddy cautiously pushed himself up on his paws. These aliens did not seem interested in eating him.
“Greetings,” he said. “I am a feline, a cat from planet Earth! What planet do you come from?”
There was a pause, then trumpeting, cacaphonic laughter.
“‘What planet are you from?'” one of the great beasts mimicked, sparking a second round of giggles that sounded like the trombone section of an orchestra, if someone had slipped the players psychedelics.
“We are elephants, and this is our home,” said the leader, a magnificent female. “And you, little one, are fortunate we happened by.”
Buddy puffed himself up.
“I think you mean the leopards were lucky,” he said, flexing his meowscles. “They didn’t want to tangle with these guns.”
The elephants chortled. “Can we keep him? He’s funny!”
The matriarch shook her massive head.
“He is far from home, and he should return before he runs into leopards again, or something worse,” she said.
Buddy looked unsure of himself.
“But I’m homies with the jaguars and the tigers! I thought…you know, I could be down with the leopards too. Us big cats gotta stick together, ya know? It’s hard out there for an apex predator. By the way, got any lunch?”
One of the elephants raised her trunk, pointing east toward a herd of intimidating horned beasts.
“Lunch,” she said. “Think you can take them?”
Buddy gulped.
“Go home, little one.”
Buddy’s version of events!
“So anyway,” Buddy said, addressing his human, “that’s how I impressed the leopards, and they made me their king. In fact, they bestowed the honorific ‘Paka mkubwa na mwenye misuli hodari,’ which means ‘great and mighty muscled cat’ in Swahili!”
“Sounds like you had quite an adventure! That’s impressive, Bud!” Big Buddy said.
“It is! It is!” Buddy said, nodding vigorously.
Big Buddy made a whistling sound.
“Was that before or after you peed yourself in terror?”
“What? I…no, I told you, they made me their king! Where did you hear this, this slander?”
Big Buddy reached for his iPad, pulling up images of a terrified Little Buddy running from leopard cubs on the savanna, Buddy running head-first into a tree, and Buddy cowering before a herd of elephants.
“A wildlife tour was nearby during your ‘coronation,’ but this is probably just a gray tabby who looks exactly like you and happened to be right where you were crowned,” he said. “Congratulations, Your Meowjesty!”
Can Captain Buddy of the USS Fowl Play outsmart the Klingons once again to save his crew and salvage his nap?
USS FOWL PLAY, NCC-2014A — Captain Buddy emerged from the turbolift, batting at the wrinkles in his uniform with his paws in a fruitless attempt to look more presentable.
“Not that it matters with these nap-interrupting brutes,” he sighed. “On screen!”
The helm officer tapped a sequence into his console and an image of a scowling Klingon materialized on the ship’s view screen, replacing the view of space and the sleek Klingon Warbird that had decloaked in front of the USS Fowl Play.
“Gruthnok vupar! This is the warship Dra’akkthar of the mighty Klingon empire!” the face on the view screen snarled. “Power down your pitiful excuse for a ship and prepare to be boarded!”
Captain Buddy smiled.
“Good to see you too, Captain Hrakhuul,” he said. “How are the wife and the kids?”
Hrakhuul snorted derisively.
“Only a fool jests during the hour of his doom!” the Klingon spat. “Have you no honor?”
Captain Buddy scratched his chin fur, pretending to consider the question.
“None,” he said, “but I do have a bone to pick with you. You woke me up during nap time. Again. Not cool, Hrakhuul. Not cool.”
Captain Buddy, commanding officer of the Federation starship USS Fowl Play, Galaxy class registration NCC-2014A
Hrakhuul growled.
“Your species is insolent, lazy and takes ten naps a day!”
“Why, thank you, Captain Hrakhuul! And may I say, you’re looking particularly savage today.”
“This is your last warning, Federation cat! Power down your shields and weapons or be destroyed!”
Captain Buddy yawned.
“I think I’ll have my crew serve me turkey sandwiches instead. Yeah. Turkey over obliteration, no brainer.”
This enraged the Klingon. “Prepare to taste your own blood at the tip of my ancestral bat’leth, feline fool!”
Buddy collapsed into his captain’s chair and kicked his feet up.
“Can we just skip this and get to the part where I outsmart you and go back to my nap?”
Hrakhuul cackled maniacally.
“So your fate is sealed, then. You shall fall before the might of the Klingon Emp…”
Captain Buddy cut him off.
“I wouldn’t be so confident if I were you. This is a..an, uh…” He turned to Lieutenant Pawson, the tactical officer, whispering: “What kind of ship is this again?”
“A Galaxy class, sir. Same as the flagship.”
“A Galactic class starship!” Buddy said confidently, projecting the calm of a seasoned captain. “And we have, like, uh…”
“Sixteen phaser banks and two photon torpedo launchers, sir,” Pawson whispered helpfully.
“Lasers! Like 27 of them! And torp…er, missiles and stuff! Very powerful missiles. They make yuge explosions!”
Behind him, operations Lt. Commander Cleo hid her face in her paws.
Schemeowtics for the USS Fowl Play, Captain Buddy’s awesome starship.
“Enough of your meaningless babble,” Captain Hrakhuul barked. “Prepare to die!”
Captain Buddy’s eyes went wide with shock.
“Oh no! We have a warp core breach! Abandon all decks and get to your escape pods!”
Captain Hrakhuul snarled, fear in his eyes.
“What?!?” If you think I will fall for this again, you tribble with a tail…”
“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you, Hrakkie,” he said. “You’re in the blast radius.”
Captain Buddy made a cut-off motion to the helmsman and the screen returned to its default view of a placid star field.
The bridge crew erupted into applause.
“The Klingon ship is backing up, full reverse thrusters, sir!”
Buddy cleared his throat.
“Fire a few of those proton missile things to create an explosion, then hit the gas, warp nine!”
The Captain yawned into the back of his paw as he walked toward the turbolift.
“I am returning to my nap,” he told his crew before the lift doors closed, “and anyone who interrupts me will be thrown out of an airlock!”
Pain In The Bud 