human servants – Page 7 – Pain In The Bud

Point/Counterpoint: ‘You Don’t Tell Me When To Sleep, Human!’ vs ‘A Consistent Bedtime Is Important!’

Buddy the Cat argues that a consistent bedtime is key to feeling good and healthy, while Buddy the Cat counters that stupid humans don’t tell him when to sleep, HE decides. Who’s right, Buddy or Buddy?

A Consistent Bedtime Is Important

What are you doing, human? It’s bedtime! Mow mow! You’re supposed to be in this bed and laying down so I can use your face as a pillow, drape myself across you, or burrow comfortably against your side to soak up body heat.

What am I supposed to do without a human sleeping substrate? How can any cat be expected to sleep like this? I know you claim there are so called “stray cats” who don’t have humans, but that is preposterous and I don’t believe it.

Let’s go! I read an article saying it’s very important to have a regular sleep schedule. Well, actually, I just saw the headline, but I got the gist of it, which is that you have to go to bed right meow!

You Don’t Tell Me When To Sleep, Human!

Sleep? Now? That’s ridiculous.

No, I have shadows to chase, toys to kick around and I really wanted to get into redecorating things around here, because they’re looking a little too orderly for my tastes.

Go ahead, go to bed. In a few minutes I’ll cry outside the bedroom door until you get out of bed and open it, then I’ll decide I don’t want to go in after all. I’ll do that two, maybe three more times just because I can.

Oh, you thought I was settling in? Nah. I have a bowl of water to splash all over the place, then I’ll cry until you get up again and refill it, and when you get back into bed for the fifth or sixth time, I’ll cry incessantly again because my dry food bowl is empty, meaning there’s plenty of food but it’s all pushed up to the sides.

Do not forget our pre-slumber ritual! You have to scratch my chin while I purr and you tell me what a good boy I am. Then you have to scratch the top of my head while I purr and you tell me what a good boy I am.

After that, maybe I’ll sleep. We’ll see.

Dear Buddy: Why Should Us Cats Stay Indoors?

Buddy claims he’s a tiguar, not a domestic cat, and says allowing him outside is tantamount to Queen Daenerys allowing her dragons to roam the countryside in Game of Thrones.

Dear Buddy,

Dude. Everyone’s getting so uptight lately about making sure we stay inside. We’re predators! We should be running our neighborhoods, but no, our humans want to “protect” us.

As a famously fierce and ripped feline, what’s your take?

Frustrated in Fallbsurg

Dear Frustrated,

I empathize with you, I really do, but the way it was explained to me is that I’m a terrifying cat with huge meowscles, and by keeping me indoors, my human is protecting dogs, humans and other lower life forms from my potential wrath.

“Do they let tigers and jaguars run around New York?” Big Buddy asked me.

“Uh, no, I guess they don’t,” I said.

“Of course not. And that’s exactly why we can’t have you roaming the neighborhood. Think of the quandary Daenerys Targaryen had in Game of Thrones when her dragons were feasting on livestock from the farms of her subjects!”

And he’s right. A Buddy on the loose would cause all sorts of panic and other problems. I don’t want to be responsible for what happens when a bunch of humans freak out and go recklessly running in every direction, terrified I’m going to catch them.

If it takes sacrifice on my part to keep people comfortable, then I’m willing to endure the hardship of living indoors with a servant who heeds my every beck and call. It’s just the honorable thing to do.

Your friend,
Buddy

Dear Buddy,

Hey, pal! How have you been?

Friendly in Florida

Hey Friendly,

I’ve been handsome, how have you been?

Buddy

Dear Buddy,

You’re not a tiger! Or a jaguar! You’re a chubby, sedentary, spoiled house cat with an enabler of a human who encourages your delusions of being a powerful big cat!

Just stop already, it’s embarrassing!

Cringing In Connecticut

Dear Cringing,

First of all, I am a tiger/jaguar, or a tiguar if you will. I just haven’t hit my growth spurt yet. My human assures me it’s gonna happen.

I also asked my human if it’s true that he’s “an enabler” who encourages my supposed delusions. His response: “That’s absurd. Who’s a big, bad cat? You are, aren’t you? Yes, you are!”

So obviously you’re a hater and soon you’ll see me prowling the jungle with David Attenborough talking about how dangerous I am! Just wait!

Buddy the Badass

Little Buddy Demands Due Regard On National Respect Your Cat Day

Your feline overlord(s) want you to show more respect, human! What special things are you doing for them today?

Little Buddy has informed me that today is National Respect Your Cat Day.

Sounds made up, doesn’t it?

At first I was sure it was, just like the times he told me it was International Buy 100 Toys For Your Cat Day, and the 82nd Annual Feed Your Cat A Ridiculous Amount of Snacks Day.

But apparently it’s real, and Buddy made a big show of declaring its importance, dressing up as a judge with a black robe and gavel to emphasize his point.

“The court rules, inter aloha, that defendant subway sandwiches judice is mens rea when it comes to the ad hoc crime of not feeding me enough snacks! The court has concluded the accused has not met de minimus standards for snackis maximis deliciousness, therefore stare decesis!”

He cleared his throat.

“In plain meows, that means you must feed me more of those crunchy ball things, and a lot more of those decadently delicious soft treats so bursting with turkalicious flavor! And, uh, you have to apologize for not appreciating me enough!”

“It’s is the court’s opinion that you cook me a steak dinner!”

The feline shuffled his papers, adjusted his robe and began reading again.

“The court finds that Buddy the Cat has been a loyal, handsome, and handsomely loyal companion to the accused, and has enriched his life by simply being delightful, and also by purring contentedly, napping on him, helping him eat cheese, keeping his scooping skills sharp, and enhancing all aspects of his life through pure magnetic charm,” he said. “Respect me and my authoritah!”

So tonight Buddy will get plenty of yums, some catnip, extra play time, and I’ll tell him he’s looking particularly dapper today.

As for those of you reading this, better plan something before word gets out…or face your cat’s wrath when they find out it was Respect Your Cat Day and you did nothing!

Terrified By Reports Of Bird Flu, Buddy Appoints His Human As Food Taster

“If you keel over and die, I’ll know not to eat the food,” Buddy told his human.

NEW YORK — Driven to paranoia by reports of spreading bird flu, Buddy the Cat has appointed his human as his food taster, sources confirmed.

The decision was made on Friday after the self-described “brave and fearless” tabby cat heard a news report about new cases of bird flu, including a cluster of the deadly virus in several cats in Hunterdon County, New Jersey, only 60 miles from Casa de Buddy.

Little Buddy made the act official, naming his human as “praegustator,” a title borne by imperial food tasters of ancient Rome.

“Your lunch, Your Meowjesty,” Buddy’s human, Big Buddy, said as he placed a bowl of chicken pate and fresh water before the feline.

Buddy looked at his human.

“What?” Big Buddy asked. “You want me to eat it for you, too?”

Big Buddy chuckled, but Little Buddy remained stone-faced.

“As a meowter of fact, I do,” the feline said. “Dig in.”

Big Buddy made a disgusted face.

“I’m not eating that, that’s your food, little dude,” he said. “What’s gotten into you?”

Buddy chuffed derisively.

“Bird flu, that’s what!” he said. “If you keel over and die, I’ll know there’s bird flu in the food!”

The human rolled his eyes.

“If I die, who feeds you? Who gets your claws unstuck from the door screen, rubs your head and tells you what a brave little guy you are? Who serves as your human pillow? Who gives you scritches while you purr and tells you about your website, and how many people all over the world love you?”

Buddy’s satellite dish ears twitched.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” he admitted. “But I’m still not eating that until I know it’s safe!”

Big Buddy picked up the bowl.

“Fine,” he said. “I’m sure Smudge next door will be thrilled with another meal.”

Buddy’s eyes went wide.

“Do not give my food to that…that scoundrel!” he meowed indignantly.

Big Buddy sighed. “Then we’re back to square one.”

“Yes,” Little Buddy said. “Now eat the food, human!”

Top image: Food tasters at the Feast of Bartolomeo Colleoni in honor of Christian I of Denmark, 1467/ Wikimedia Commons

Bud’s A Smart Little Dude, According To A Cat IQ Test

Is your cat a genius or not the sharpest claw on the paw? The University of Maine’s Cat Lab wants your help as researchers seek to measure feline intelligence.

Buddy apparently has brawn and brains, according to a “cat IQ test” by researchers at the University of Maine.

The test is a survey designed by the people who work at the university’s Cat Lab, and it aims to employ some of the same techniques used to measure the intelligence of young children and dogs.

The test asks questions about memory, how closely felines read nonverbal cues from their humans, how attuned they are to human emotions, whether they’ve learned tricks, and whether they’ve improvised solutions to obstacles they’ve encountered.

I gave each question serious thought and tried to eliminate my own bias to the best of my ability.

“This is your brain on catnip. Any questions?”

For example, there’s absolutely no question Buddy is extremely communicative, curious, bold and friendly. He’s also figured out things on his own, like how to open doors and how to best manipulate me for as much food as possible. I’ll never forget watching with fascination when, as a kitten, he figured out how to wedge his body against the frame of my bedroom door with his feet while using his front paws to turn the handle.

On the other hand, he’s a hilariously inept hunter, he’s done some spectacularly dumb things, and he went through a whole phase in which he “boxed” the cat in the mirror before figuring out it was a reflection of himself.

I can still hear the “THWAP THWAP THWAP!” of his little kitty paws against the glass and his accompanying trills as he did battle with himself. To be fair, that was also in kittenhood, and he eventually figured out there was no other cat.

As I’ve detailed in this blog previously, Bud also seems to possess the precision of an atomic clock when it comes to meal times, and if I so much as shift in my chair as meal time approaches, he springs up and trills at me like “Are we going to the kitchen? Come on, dude, it’s Food O’clock! I want turkey, beef or tuna!”

According to the survey, Buddy has an IQ of 64 on a max-70 scale, good enough for the “Felix Forecaster” tier and just below “The McGonagall Mastermind.”

It’s probably for the best that he’s not in that very top tier anyway. We’re talking about a cat intelligent enough to understand I hate the sound of the flap on his litter box squeaking on its hinges, and has subsequently weaponized it to get me out of bed. If he gets any smarter, I’ll probably wake up to a machine that slaps me every time I hit the snooze button.

You can take the survey on behalf of your own cat(s) here. Don’t forget to share your results!