Rita Vigovszky captures the essence of cats with her whimsical illustrations.
Rita Vigovszky knows cats.
The Budapest woman, who earns a living as an illustrator, often puts her own cat in her drawings to illustrate confounding and amusing feline behaviors, but she also draws various cats in silly and amusing situations.
Who among us doesn’t sympathize with this? I can give Bud two vigorous play sessions with laser pointers and wand toys, and he’ll still reliably do this at night:
As George Carlin once said: “Cats don’t accept blame.” They also have no shame. At this point, probably every surface except the kitchen counters has been “groomed on.”
Prior to 2020, I would not have sympathized with this. Then the pandemic happened, barbershops in New York were closed for ages, I binged the entire run of Vikings during lockdown, and when I finally made it back to my barber, told him: “Give me that awesome Ragnar Lothbrok haircut!” So now I have a viking man bun (go ahead, laugh at me) with shaved sides and back, and Bud has many new hair band toys that tend to disappear under couches and in crevices:
We’ll assume people who like to snooze with their furry buddies have normal cats. Buddy is not a normal cat.
Do you sleep better with your cat or dog in bed?
A significant majority of respondents in a recent survey said yes. British polling and survey firm OnePoll asked 2,000 Americans that question, with about 70 percent saying they get better rest with their furry friend next to them.
Most said having their cat or dog snoozing with them made them feel safer and more comfortable, while 58 percent admitted they sleep better with their pet in the bed than their significant other. While most people like having their animals sleep in their beds, some said pets could disrupt their sleep.
Of course if you’re like me, you never really had a choice. There was no adjustment period when I brought Buddy home for the first time. He didn’t hide under the bed and refuse to come out, or dash for the nearest small space.
That’s pedestrian behavior for a cat of his stature. Instead, the little guy came striding out of his carrier like a feline Genghis Khan and immediately started conquering territory.
“So this is my new bedroom, huh?” Buddy the Kitten seemed to say as he mewed excitedly. “Oh, look at this bed. Mine! Hey, that’s a sweet chair. Mine! I’m just gonna climb up onto your desk and survey my new territory if you don’t mind. The desk, by the way? Mine!”
He decided from the very beginning that my bed was his bed, and while I was to be his butler, waiter, masseur and personal groomer, I would also make a fine human mattress.
Thus our nightly routine: Buddy watches me impatiently as I get settled in bed, then makes himself comfortable either by draping himself over me, or wedging himself between my legs.
Readjusting and changing sleeping positions are severely frowned upon. I swear I can hear the annoyance in Bud’s voice, and his impatience as he waits for me to turn over so he can attend to what’s really important — his comfort.
“You should be deeply honored that I have deemed you acceptable to sleep upon. Now stop moving and don’t toss and turn during the night. I need my beauty sleep!”
Do I sleep better with him there? Mentally, yes. Physically, no.
Recently I wrote about his new habit of getting “sleep scritches,” which came about after he realized he could get me to raise my hand while I sleep. It took me a while to realize it was happening: At most I was dimly aware until I had a dream I was petting him, woke up and realized I was holding my hand up while Buddy was rubbing his face against my palm and purring happily.
He doesn’t wake me up for food, since I set aside a bowl of dry kibble and a bowl of fresh water for him before bed every night. If he gets hungry, he slides lazily off the bed, pads over to his little dining nook and quietly munches a snack before going back to sleep.
The little stinker’s proximity, and his tendency to meow in his sleep, also means he gate crashes my subconscious while I’m sleeping and appears in my dreams.
I can’t get away from him, but that’s okay with me.
A man says his girlfriend is worried his posts about his new kittens will embarrass her, and has demanded he take them down.
Is it “weird” and “creepy” to call yourself a cat dad?
One Redditor’s girlfriend thinks so, and didn’t hesitate to tell him. The 24-year-old poster says he’s had cats since he was 15 years old, and his current cat recently gave birth to a litter of kittens.
“I was so happy I took a pic and posted it online with the title saying that I’m now a cat dad for these cute kittens and that they’re my babies,” he wrote. “My post got lots of likes and reactions, but when my girlfriend saw it she picked a fight with me calling it cringe that I constantly refer to these kittens as my babies. She told me it’s just weird and lowkey creepy.”
The post comes from Reddit’s ever-flowing fount of entertainment, the subreddit known as “Am I The Asshole?“
In his version of the story, the Redditor says his girlfriend demanded he remove the post because she was worried it would cause her embarrassment with her friends. He refused, they argued, and she left to stay at a friend’s house to cool off.
The situation has not been resolved.
“We’re still fighting about it and she keeps on about how inconsiderate I am to keep doing something I know she’s uncomfortable with,” Mr. Cat Dad writes.
Credit: Tough Guys Holding Pets
The response among Redditors was overwhelmingly in favor of the poster, saying he’s emphatically “not the asshole.” Many responded with their own stories about cat dads, while others said the girlfriend was perpetuating harmful gender stereotypes.
“I feel sorry for your girlfriend,” a female poster wrote. “She has no joy in her heart and worried entirely too much about what other people think. Spoiler: nobody cares, live your best life.”
Keeping in mind these posts only tell one side of the story, it’s not unusual to hear about people who think men who like cats are weird, just like it’s pretty common to hear women called “crazy cat ladies.”
We don’t have that problem here at PITB, mostly because Bud is undeniably manly. If you saw a guy walking down the street with a tiger on a leash, you wouldn’t mess with him, would you? Well, Buddy’s indistinguishable from a tiger: same predatory gait, same intimidating and intense presence, same razor sharp claws and rippling meowscles.
I don’t call Bud my child or my son. He’s my Buddy. But if guys want to call themselves cat dads, who’s to say that’s a bad thing?
“Does my cat love me?” many people wonder. The answer is no, because you’re an annoying human. But here are 10 clear signs that your cat tolerates you!
“Does my cat love me?”
If you’re like most cat servants, you’ve wondered about that at least a few times, laboring under the misconception that we can’t communicate our feelings. (We can, but you humans are not smart enough to see what’s in front of your faces!)
The internet is peppered with absurd listicles that supposedly answer the question of whether your cat loves you. They claim proximity, purring, slow-blinking and grooming are signs of affection, again because most humans are incapable of complex thought and simply cannot fathom the motivations of a superior species.
Because I am a benevolent feline, and one who is burdened with a particularly dense human, I present to you an authentic list of signs that your kitty … well, love is a strong word, isn’t it? Let’s call it a list of 10 Signs That Your Kitty Tolerates You:
We don’t eat you. You might think that we can’t eat you because we’re not as big as tigers, lions, jaguars and leopards. You would be wrong, as humans frequently are. We have no qualms about eating humans when there are no other options, although if we’re being completely honest we’d eat just about anything before resigning ourselves to that.
We tolerate your proximity. Did you know that for many thousands of years, humans thought the Earth was the center of the universe, and that the sun, other planets and star systems all revolved around the terrestrial home of homo sapiens? It’s that kind of hubris that leads humans to believe we cats love them because we supposedly prefer to be near them. The truth is, we merely tolerate humans and we often don’t have a choice when it comes to proximity unless we’re living in 50-room mansions. Where else are we supposed to go in a four-room apartment?
We don’t murder you. You humans have convinced yourselves that our warnings are “love bites.” We are happy to correct you by increasing our bite force.
We allow you to scoop our poop. Do not kid yourself, human. If you are trusted to clean our turds, it means you occupy a lofty position in life. Consider yourself lucky.
We bring you gifts. Again, humans misinterpret this behavior as “cute.” They think we’re sharing our kills. What we’re really doing is showing you what we’re capable of. Think of it as motivation: Continue serving my meals on schedule and dispensing treats, and you won’t end up like this mouse.
We show you our bellies. “It’s a sign of trust!” imbecilic humans coo. “Kitty is showing you she feels comfortable and safe in your presence!” If there were an Olympics for getting things tragically wrong, humans would sweep gold. We show you our bellies not because we trust you, but because we want you to know that even when we’re laying in vulnerable positions, we aren’t worried about what you can do to us. You’re slow of wit and limb.
Credit: Krysten Merriman/Pexels
We rub ourselves against you. “Mr. Snuggles rubs up against me all the time to tell me he loves me!” a tragically misinformed person might say. Nope. You’re right about the scent-marking glands. We have them on our cheeks, paws and our forehead, but we’re simply marking ownership by rubbing against you. When you write your name on your lunch bag before you toss it into the work fridge, does that mean you love the bag? No. It just means “Don’t eat my lunch!” Same thing here. We are telling other cats to look elsewhere for servants, because we own you.
We groom you. You’re disgusting. We groom you because we can’t stand your stink. End of.
We knead you. Yet again, humans misinterpret a malicious activity as “cute” and endearing. It’s a marvel that your species has survived as long as it has. What do you do with a piece of steak before you cook it? Tenderize it, of course! Kneading is just a long tenderizing process carried out over years, so when you die and no one notices because you have no friends, and the cat food runs out, we can eat you without major difficulties. That still doesn’t mean you taste good.
We meow at you. Long ago we felines realized that humans are not smart enough to speak tail or whisker, so we endeavored to speak your “language,” a series of grunts and guttural vocalizations that supposedly carry meaning. But when we stoop to “speaking” your tongue, you respond with gibberish. Tell us, which species is supposed to be the intelligent one?
So there you have it, humans. Ten signs your beloved feline tolerates your presence, as long as you conduct your basic duties as a cat servant competently. Let no one claim Buddy the Cat isn’t a friend to the human race, revealing the mysteries of catdom so that you might serve us more competently.
Okay, fine! I love my human. But he’s perpetually on thin ice, and he knows it.
Top image: Buddy the Cat looks approvingly at his human, Big Buddy. That may seem like a scowl, but rest assured it is the kindest facial expression Buddy directs at his loyal servant. All other photos allegedly depicting a loving Buddy are in fact fake news, and should be ruthlessly censored.
Buddy the Cat argues in favor of ignoring clocks, while Buddy the Cat argues that it’s very important to remain on schedule.
Schedules Are For Squares
Schedule? What are you talking about, human?
I’m a cat. Time means nothing to me. If I want to pass the days curled up in a ball snoozing contentedly, or run around like a possessed kitten while yowling at 4 am, I will. I do what I want.
Try not to get so hung up on things like schedules. The question of whether time flows like a river or exists as discreet quanta is one for the physicists and philosophers. Hakuna Katana, my friend. It means “No worries” in Japanese.
Let yourself get crazy. Bring out the laser laser and let the catnip and snacks flow freely. I’ll just hide your phone and your watch so we can enjoy ourselves.
My Meals Must Be Served Precisely On Schedule!
I knew it! I knew when the clock struck 3:57 pm and you still weren’t moving that my dinner would be late. I tried to warn you by shrieking at you at 20-second intervals, but to no avail.
I have to be honest, I just don’t see the urgency or effort on your part, and that concerns me. We have an agreement that two bowls — one with fresh water and the other with yummy wet food — will be set down in my eating nook no later than 4 pm. Not 4:33 or 4:17 or even 4:02.
FOUR O’CLOCK.
You may not think observing a strict yums schedule is important, but it is.
My body is a fine-tuned machine, human. I didn’t get this tigeresque physique by playing fast and loose with the rules, or by delaying the ingestion of crucial proteins and nutrients.
Do better.
Point-Counterpoint presents two essays taking opposing positions on a topic. Join us next week, when Buddy the Cat will debate Buddy the Cat on another important topic.
Schedule? What are you talking about, human?
Pain In The Bud 