human servants – Pain In The Bud

Americans Are Lousy At Taking Care Of Their Cats, Poll Claims

The respondents also admitted they “forget” to feed their furry friends an average of three times a week. Say what?!?

Americans don’t know basic facts about their cats, fail to properly care for them and overestimate how well they do as pet parents, according to a new poll.

The survey of cat owners commissioned by PetSafe found most people in the US who have cats in their home don’t know their feline friends typically have 18 toes, for example, and don’t realize cats purr when they’re content as well as when they’re trying to soothe themselves.

Respondents said they frequently forget to refill their furry little buddies’ water bowls, but the thing that really blew my mind is that people supposedly forget to feed their cats an average of three times a week.

How is that possible?!?

The number of times Bud has missed a meal in 10 years is precisely zero. Even when I had COVID, even when half my face was frozen with Bell’s Palsy and I was throbbing with the worst headache I’d ever endured, I fed the little guy according to his schedule.

It’s not just that he reminds me. There’s a whole ritual around it, an elaborate series of increasingly affirmative and urgent meows that quickly give way to panic if Buddy doesn’t see activity associated with a bowl of fresh wet food and water delivered to his nook.

The pre-reminder reminders begin about 45 minutes to an hour before feeding time, with Bud’s infallible internal clock signaling upcoming meal time.

At the 30 minute mark Bud will put himself directly in my line of sight and stare at me. Then he’ll start to meow at regular intervals, and if I’m not up and heading to the kitchen by T-minus 15 minutes to yums, the meowing begins in earnest.

Even the act of retrieving a pack of wet food from the Buddy Cabinet is highly formalized and ritualistic: the little dude grunts and trills excitedly as I open the seal, dump the food in his bowl, mash it up and pile it in the middle the way he likes it.

Then he leads me back to his nook, looking over his head every few paces to make sure I’m right behind him, even though we’ve done this song and dance literally 7,318 times as of today. (It’s probably more than that since I fed him more than twice a day when he was a kitten, and doesn’t include his bowl of dry food for his late night snack/overnight emergency supply so he doesn’t have to wake me up if he’s hungry.)

I realize Bud’s a bit of a tyrant and there’s no peace until he gets what he wants, but still. Cats are cats. So really, how does anyone “forget” to feed their cat?

The Cat With The Mat

For the first time, the Budster has a patch of matted fur. Luckily, because this is a frequent problem for cats, there’s a lot of detailed advice out there about what to do.

Ruh roh!

In a first for him, Bud’s got a patch of matted fur. While it’s clear he understands I’m trying to help him, he’s not particularly keen on my efforts to comb it out.

He’ll tolerate limited brushing, but after a few attempts he pulls away. I don’t think it’s a sore spot in general. He hasn’t minded when I examined the area and he doesn’t pull away if I scratch his lower back, but his limited tolerance for the brush and his body language all say he’s uncomfortable with repeated attempts to clear the fur.

The mat is hard, like the bristles of a paint brush that hasn’t been cleaned properly. Bud’s white underfur is much more visible in the matted area as it sticks up.

After reading about matting in cats and the causes, I don’t think we’re dealing with fleas or an infection. I realize indoor cats can get fleas, but I very rarely see the little guy scratching himself and there’s no indication he’s in any general discomfort.

My best guess is that he’s, ahem, maybe still a little too much on the chubby side and can’t groom the area as he did when he was a younger, slimmer feline, before he moved down to Florida, joined the Del Boca Vista retirement community for cats and immersed himself in the exciting world of bocce.

As you can see, he doesn’t look chubby and his coat is otherwise very healthy.

Of course any talk of weight issues is very hush-hush around here. Officially, Buddy has the physique of an athletic tiger. Anyone who vocalizes doubts about that does so at their peril.

Right now my plan of attack is to get a fine metal comb specifically for jobs like this. I’ll try to remedy it with short brushing sessions and encouragement in the form of treats and praise for Bud being such a brave little guy.

If that doesn’t work, the next step would be a groomer or veterinarian. These things don’t resolve themselves, unfortunately, and the longer they’re allowed to persist, the worse the problem becomes.

To be continued…

Who’s Scared Of Earthquakes? Not Buddy The Cat!

“Oh, did the Earth shake? I hardly noticed?” Buddy remarked.

So apparently the crinkling of a paper bag is terrifying, but the Earth shaking is no big deal.

The New York area experienced a 4.8-magnitude earthquake today. For a fleeting moment I thought maybe some idiot had hit the building with a tractor trailer or something, but as the rumbles continued I realized it had to be natural. Only Mother Nature has that kind of power.

I looked over at Bud, expecting to hear a terrified whimper any second, but he was just laying on my bed with his head up, annoyed that he’d been woken up.

His eyes met mine and I got the sense he was asking me: “Are we good here? Do I have to get up and run around screaming, or is this merely a rude interruption of my nap?”

“Good boy,” I said, trying to show him I wasn’t scared either.

In truth I was, just a bit. I suppose there must have been earthquakes around here in my childhood, but I can’t remember them. Even though this one was on the lower range of the Richter scale, as I’d later learn, when you’re not accustomed to earthquakes there’s a moment of surprise and understanding when you realize, for all our tech and the leaps we’ve taken as a species, we are ultimately powerless against forces like this.

It’s a feeling you’ll never get from seeing an earthquake on TV. You have to feel the ground shake to appreciate your own powerlessness.

In any case, this was definitely Bud’s first earthquake and I’m proud of the little guy. If you’d asked me before today how he’d likely respond, I would not have guessed he would be stoic.

We salute you, brave little man!

Local Cat Enjoys 7 Meals A Day From 7 Houses

The resourceful cat has mastered the art of meowing adorably and appearing hungry, tugging at the heartstrings of seven neighbors who all think he doesn’t get enough to eat.

NEW PALTZ, NY — It’s not easy playing the part of a hungry stray to seven different families in a one block radius, but local cat Tangerine says he makes it work by sticking to a strict schedule.

“I’m always at the green house at 7:45 am sharp, ’cause that’s when the kids leave for the school bus. When they see me they call out to their mom, who’s usually got tuna or eggs for me,” the enterprising feline said.

From there it’s on to the three-story Dutch revivalist house on the corner, where a retired gentleman calls Tangerine “Rusty” and offers him a generous bowl of kibble.

“The key is to master the plaintive meow and to look just a bit unsure of yourself,” Tangerine explained, “like you haven’t had a meal in ages and aren’t sure where your next meal is coming from.”

But Tangerine isn’t nearly done after only two houses. The crafty cat has his stops all planned out and knows the routines of every one of his neighbors, a feat of efficiency and logistical planning that would make FedEx envious.

If the weather’s nice, the orange tabby will settle down for a rest in the neighbor’s yard, which has flowers that are particularly enjoyable to defecate on. If it’s chilly or raining, Tangerine heads back home for his morning snooze.

Immediately after First Nap is the highlight of the morning: a visit to the Bacon House where the inhabitant, a 47-year-old software engineer, has bestowed the name Simba on Tangerine and always offers deliciously crispy bacon, the feline said.

A visit to Bacon House — Visiting Bacon House is a highlight of the day, never to be missed. Image: PITB

Next it’s Second Nap followed by Fourth Meal at the wrap-around porch two houses down, which provides ample shade for subsequent snoozing. The people there call Tangerine “Creamy Delicious” and offer him a wide variety of palate-pleasing treats.

Tangerine prepares for the visit by rolling in the dirt for a minute or two, making himself look scruffy and unkempt.

“You poor thing!” the woman who lives there often says as Tangerine nuzzles against her hand and meows cutely. “You probably haven’t eaten since yesterday!”

The rest of the afternoon through early evening takes the orange tabby between three additional homes where he enjoys diced chicken, crumbled sausage and occasional steak.

By the time he’s finished his rounds, Tangerine is drained and returns home to rest.

“It’s not easy doing that much eating and sleeping,” Tangerine said with a wide yawn. “If it were easy, every cat would be out there like I am with the side hustle.”

As of press time Tangerine said it was too early for a formal announcement, but said he’s been working on “considerations of sleep and logistics” that would allow him to expand to an ambitious route of nine houses and nine meals daily.

Cat Demands Human Swear Fealty, Submit Essay To Continue Serving Him

Realizing he could leverage his popularity to improve snack and head-rubbing service, Little Buddy demanded his human “bend the knee.”

NEW YORK — Tensions between the Buddies threatened to reach an all-time high on Wednesday after Little Buddy the Cat sought to formalize their alliance by having Big Buddy the Human swear fealty to him.

“I’ve been thinking,” Little Buddy the Cat said, padding into the living room, “and I’ve got an idea!”

“This should be brilliant,” his human replied, not bothering to look up from his newspaper.

Little Buddy the Cat nodded in agreement.

“It is! It is!” he said excitedly. “I was thinking that since I have my own website, you know, and people all over the world love me, it’s time to reevaluate my options. There are people who would love to spoil me, you know.”

Big Buddy glowered.

“So I’m going to need an essay of no less than 800 words on why you should be allowed to continue serving me,” the feline continued. “Offer specifics, please. I’m gonna need that on my desk by 0800 tomorrow.”

“You don’t have a desk, you Tribble with a tail,” Big Buddy pointed out.

The tabby cat became exasperated. “My office! My…my eating nook where my bowls and all my important papers are stored! So you’ll submit your essay there, okay?”

Big Buddy nodded absentmindedly, flipping his newspaper to the sports section.

“Uh-huh. Whatever you say, little dude.”

Buddy clawed at the paper. “I wasn’t finished!”

Buddy and his tunnel — Buddy, pictured, wants his human to “bend the knee” and swear fealty to him.

When he had his human’s attention again, the silver tabby dragged out a crude replica of Game of Thrones’ Iron Throne made of cardboard, grunting with the effort.

“Now if I can just…get my feet up here…grip on the cardboard I can…grrr…okay. Whew!”

The feline settled onto the throne, the corrugated cardboard sagging beneath his weight, and tried to look regal.

“You may now bend the knee,” he said matter-of-factly. “Oooh! Ooh! Get your replica samurai sword, draw it and hold it as you kneel to me! That would be really cool.”