Kittens remind us what it feels like to experience pure joy in discovering the world.
July 10 is National Kitten Day, and what better way to inspire people to adopt and help relieve pressure on shelters than by showing photos of kitten Bud to prove how cute these little guys can be?
Even as a kitten, Buddy was dashingly handsome and had huge muscles! Top image: My mom holds Bud and my niece, who were both babies at the time.
Hiding in my sneakers. Jumping on my head and biting my feet while I’m trying to sleep. Zooms at every ungodly hour imaginable. Boxing his own reflection in the mirror. Inexplicably destroying large objects around the house despite his tiny size and weight. “Fighting” enemies on the screen while I’m trying to play video games. Being obsessed with nursing from my right earlobe.
Those are just some of Bud’s charming behaviors from kittenhood. I miss those days of curiosity, extreme playfulness and adventure.
While I would like to adopt an overlooked adult cat in the future because it’s much more difficult for them to find homes, I would not trade my experience with Kitten Bud for anything.
Perhaps best of all is seeing the pure joy and wonder expressed by a kitten who plays in snow for the first time, discovers the fun of playing with guitar strings or figures out how much fun it is to startle his human by sneaking up ninja-like and giving him a horror movie jump scare.
Everything is new and exciting to a kitten, and it’s an amazing thing to see and participate in. Kitten energy is happy energy.
We’ve now officially joined our European friends in deep summer, with an oppressive heat dome settling over the central and eastern US ahead of the July 4 weekend:
My extended family’s July 4 cookout is starting to look more like it’ll be a cook-in, pool or no pool. I think I’ll sit inside and watch baseball, thank you very much!
On behalf of Bud and myself, I hope everyone is taking it easy and staying indoors as much as possible.
For our friends in the New York area, you already know what the deal is: sticky, soupy heat from the high humidity that is the trademark of our summers.
Of course our furry friends have it even worse in this weather. Imagine having a jacket you cannot remove in humid 100 degree heat! Even Bud, a domestic shorthair, has modified his sleeping habits, snoozing next to my head with a paw on my hand instead of draping himself over me like he usually does.
Here’s to hoping everyone stays safe, hydrated and lazy this holiday weekend!
The case of an allegedly stolen feline has taken a strange turn.
Two weeks ago we posted a story about Junie, a tabbie in Bakersfield, Calif., who was grabbed by an Amazon driver making a delivery at her family’s home.
The Ring camera video clearly shows the driver delivering a package, picking Junie up and walking off with her. In the intervening time, the family has released the video, spoken to local media, filed a report with police and implored Amazon to help them get their cat back.
Amazon shifted the blame to a local contractor that employs delivery drivers, saying the driver is actually an employee of that company despite wearing an Amazon uniform. Police say the investigation is ongoing.
But now the driver has come out publicly and said that, actually, Junie is his cat, and actually, he just happened to deliver a package to the home of the family who allegedly took her.
“I was just doing my regular route. I approached the house. I got Brenda’s package, and I took it like a normal day,” Joshua Gonzalez told KGET, the local NBC affiliate in Bakersfield.
Brenda Wilson is Junie’s caretaker who previously spoke to the same news team about the alleged theft.
The document Gonzalez produced says the feline was a stray adopted on Oct. 9 of 2025, but Gonzalez said he never got around to naming her. Referring to the cat variously as “him,” “her” and “it,” he said he was thinking of naming “him” Spartan.
“I heard a meow,” he said of the moment he delivered the package. “I recognized it was my cat because of the distinct design it had on its forehead. It has the ‘M,’ the eyes, and how the body was set. I knew it was my cat. So I just grabbed him and walked off.”
Gonzalez says he adopted the cat for his seven-year-old daughter.
Aside from the incredible coincidence of supposedly finding his cat during a random work delivery, and the odd detail about not naming a cat that he says had been in his home for at least six months — as well as his apparent uncertainty about the feline’s gender — the document Gonzalez produced does not include a photo of the animal.
Then there’s the fact that literally all domestic tabby cats have the “M” marking on their foreheads, which is the most clear sign they’re tabbies. It’s not clear if Gonzalez thinks the mark is unique, and the news team didn’t ask the obvious question.
Wilson’s been in touch with Gonzalez and his family. She says she’s had Junie for five years, says Gonzalez used to live in her neighborhood, and has gotten nowhere with attempts to get Junie back.
“We’ve had some back and forth with them and they really are saying this is their cat, and I don’t know if it’s a cover, [if] they just really wanted her, or if they really do think this is their cat,” she said. But, she noted, “it’s an easy fix,” meaning the police can quickly determine who Junie/Spartan belongs to by looking at photos, timestamps, vet and adoption records.
Junie, whom Gonzalez says might be named Spartan, is pictured here in an image provided to KGET by Gonzalez. He says the cat is in her rightful home and is happy.
Gonzalez told KGET he realizes the video of him taking the cat “looks bad,” but said neighbors should not jump to conclusions.
“I want them to know I didn’t do anything bad but get my cat back, and now it’s in its rightful home, it’s back where it belongs,” he said. “Like anybody else would do, if they lost their cat and they see it on someone else’s porch, they would do the same thing.”
A couple thoughts here: in addition to the unlikely coincidence that someone would randomly discover their missing cat this way, not bestowing a name on a pet he’s allegedly had for seven months, and the inconclusive document, the video does not show surprise on Gonzalez’s face, nor does it show any hesitation or effort on his part to look at the cat closely.
Instead, he goes immediately from scanning the package and placing it down to picking the cat up. Then just walks off. Even when he pauses momentarily, it’s to look at his phone, not the animal.
You’d think that, if he really did serendipitously discover his own missing pet, there’d be visible surprise or a reaction on his face. You’d think he’d take a long look at the cat just to make sure it really is his. You’d think he’d knock on the door or at the very least leave a note instead of just walking off with the cat. And if this really happened the way Gonzalez says it did, wouldn’t he have told his employer so there’s no misunderstanding?
None of that happened, according to the media reports, the video and Gonzalez’s own words. Of course, Gonzalez could be telling the truth. Stranger things have happened. But the burden of proof is on him here.
I have written in the past about people who aren’t sure if they’ve recovered their own cat, and while I’ve said I’d know Bud instantly — and I maintain I absolutely would, because of his behavior and demeanor as well as his appearance — I’d still be shocked at finding him that way.
If he were missing, I would be overjoyed at finding him. Thrilled. Ecstatic. I’d probably act like a complete idiot, pick him up, spin around and kiss his little forehead. And he’d definitely react, trilling out a “Servant! Where have you been?!? This period of separation has been unacceptable and intolerable! Return me immediately to my proper domicile, where I expect you will have my preferred meal and be ready to ply me with snacks and catnip in profound apology for allowing this ghastly ordeal!”
Okay, so maybe people wouldn’t understand that bit of dialog, but I sure as hell would get his meaning, and I am absolutely a thousand percent sure that’s how he’d react. We’d both be ecstatic about being reunited.
Above: One of approximately 716,253 photos of Buddy in my possession.
I’d also have a mountain of proof: literally four cell phones’ worth of camera roll photos, several hundred photos from my Canon, neuter and vaccination records, receipts from the emergency vet, Chewy records listing an obscene amount of turkey orders, poorly Photoshopped images of him committing various heroic deeds with timestamps dating back more than a decade, and an entire blog dedicated to glorifying him as a meowscular, handsome and inimitable little fellow. But that’s just me.
A spokesperson from the local sheriff’s office told KGET they’re still investigating the alleged theft. I hope that’s true, and I hope they take this seriously. Regardless of US law’s archaic view of pets as property worth a fixed, cheap value that does not take sentiment into consideration, serving the public means setting things like this right. If one party doesn’t like what the police decide, they can go to court.
But for the sake of Junie and her family, they need to get this settled, and quickly, before the feline disappears.
“The evidence is overwhelming, your honor. He even has a disturbing number of poorly Photoshopped images of his cat slaying dragons, fighting evil robot armies, landing on the moon and dunking basketballs over NBA players.”
Cats are highly attuned to our emotions, especially when we share a strong bond with our little buddies.
I realized I needed to calm down when Bud turned and gave me a wide-eyed, uncertain stare.
It was the fourth quarter of the NBA Finals’ second game, and the San Antonio Spurs were chipping away at the New York Knicks’ lead with ample help from the referees.
The Spurs collapsed in as the Knicks’ Karl Anthony Towns (KAT, or Big Kat as he’s fondly known) drove the lane, pummeling him and grabbing at his shooting hand while the refs just watched.
It had been happening all night. Spurs star Victor Wembanyama even grabbed a much smaller Knicks player by the neck and tossed him at one point without so much as a peep from the refs.
(Above: 7’4″ Spurs center Victor Wembanyama grabs 6-foot Knicks points guard Jose Alvarado by the neck and tosses him. The refs did nothing.)
I shouted something not nice as the refs ignored the bludgeoning and the Spurs barreled down the other end for another bucket.
Then I saw Bud’s alarmed face and his uncertain crouch.
“Aw, sh–,” I said, softening my tone and doing my best to sound reassuring. “Not you, Bud. I love you, little guy.”
I held out my fingers, Bud rubbed his cheek against them happily, and we returned to watching the game as I scratched his head.
Still, it was a much-needed reminder that our little pals look to us for emotional cues, and our bad moods have a profound impact on them.
Jalen Brunson is the Knicks’ captain and point guard. Josh Hart (header image) is the team’s “Hart and soul.” Credit: Wikimedia Commons
I will never forget what my brother observed one day when Buddy was still a kitten: “You’re his whole world.”
Bud likes to pretend otherwise, of course, but the point stands. He picks up on everything, and it is deeply unfair for me to allow any outside emotions to impact him. Making sure he’s happy means everything to me.
The comedian Bill Burr has a bit about this, putting it in more crude — but much more hilarious — terms:
Happily, despite the abominable officiating, the Knicks won the game. They have now won 13 games in a row in the playoffs (!), they haven’t lost a game in six weeks, and after defeating the Spurs twice on their home court, the Knicks return to New York two wins away from being NBA champions…for the first time in 53 years.
It’s not only a big deal to me and millions of New Yorkers, it’s something I’ve wanted so badly since I was a kid watching the Knicks reach the Finals in 1994 and 1999, falling agonizingly short both times.
The Knicks came within a game of winning it all in the 1994 NBA Finals when Patrick Ewing (pictured) was the team’s leader.
Wembanyama, San Antonio’s best player, is a towering 7’4″ and doesn’t even have to jump to dunk the basketball, while the Knicks’ best player is Jalen Brunson, who at six feet tall is diminutive by NBA standards.
Wembanyama was the number one pick in his draft, already hailed as the future of the sport before he set foot on the hardwood. Brunson was the 33rd pick in the second round in his draft class, an afterthought who wasn’t predicted to be anything more than a bench player at best.
OG Anunoby, who hails from the UK, is a lockdown defender and explosive scorer. Credit: Wikimedia Commons
When the Knicks signed Brunson four years ago, the entire sports world laughed. One ESPN “expert” insisted the idiot Knicks had pinned their hopes on a “role player,” while another compared Brunson to one of the team’s all time great busts. A third declared the Knicks would never win anything with Brunson leading the team.
And yet here we are on the cusp of history. The Knicks aren’t just two games from a championship, and they haven’t merely punched their ticket to the Finals. They have absolutely obliterated every team they’ve faced, sweeping the last two series and winning by a margin of almost 24 points per game.
But it ain’t over until they win it, so I’m heartened by what the Knicks’ KAT and Mikal Bridges both said after the last two games: they’re treating each game as if they have no lead, as if they must fight tooth and nail to save their season. They are not resting on their laurels, they’re not taking anything for granted, and they refuse to underestimate their opponents.
So let’s hope they win two more and finally bring a championship home, at which time Bud and I will partay!
It’s little Buddy! What more could you possibly want?
I took this photo on Monday, capturing Bud in the moments between him screeching at me, I believe for snacks. Although it could have been a demand for me to sit on the couch so he can then sit on me. I forget.
There is a practical side to taking random photos like this, which is that it’s easier to really look at nonverbal indicators of health and mood. In this photo his ears are up and relaxed, his whiskers are relaxed, and he’s chill. Aside from making loud and insistent demands of me, that is. Anyway, here he is in all his 12-year-old glory:
Pain In The Bud 