Buddy needs help remodeling things more to his tastes.
I need a handy human to come over to Big Buddy’smy apartment when Big Buddy is not here and help me with a little home improvement project.
Specifically I need you to unscrew all the hinge thingies and the hinges too, and take the doors down.
All of them.
Except maybe the one in the front because it keeps unwanted riff raff like dogs out of my house. But most definitely the doors to Big Buddy’s my bedroom and the bathroom need to go. Those are the most important ones.
As payment you can keep the doors you take down, and you can take a selfie with me so you can show all your friends you met the most handsomest and ripped cat in all the realm.
P.S. – I will take TWO selfies with any handy human who can also build me a staircase to the treat cabinet in the kitchen!
While it really doesn’t feel like five years have passed since I adopted a tiny gray kitten who quickly took over my home and my heart, sometimes I find it difficult to remember what life was like B.B., or Before Bud.
Buddy is a presence.
Of my cat-minion friends, most serve timid kitties who are experts at making themselves scarce. Some hide so well when guests are over, you’d never know a feline lives in the house. Only a few scattered toys or the presence of a litter box gives them away.
With Buddy there’s never any doubt a cat lives in my his home.
Like a dog, Buddy comes running any time there’s a knock on the door, standing beside me and sizing up visitors. He loves Halloween. He likes meeting new people and revels in attention. From his many perches he keeps watch over the neighborhood like a nosy Italian grandmother who knows everything about everyone in a three-block radius.
He also makes a lot of noise, to the point where I don’t have to look up from what I’m doing to know what he’s up to and where he is. If it’s quiet, that means he’s taking a nap.
I don’t do anything without Buddy getting involved somehow or supervising, and there can never, ever be a closed door between us or it becomes armageddon around here.
Over the past year or so I’ve learned I’m decent at writing amusing anecdotes about the little guy, but one thing I’m lousy at is expressing what he means to me. That’s not a surprise, since I’m terrible at expressing my love and gratitude for the people closest to me in life, nevermind the cats.
Suffice to say the inspiration for all these stories about vast catnip empires and the voice behind the world’s worst advice column is a loyal, endlessly amusing cat tiger with a big heart. And while he may not be “sweet” by traditional kitteh standards and he doesn’t like to be held, he signals his affection in other ways, like grooming my hair and falling asleep in my lap, where he feels safe.
Now that the saccharine stuff is out of the way, let’s end this post with matters of true import: His Grace has decreed that any and all gifts should come in the form of turkey, including but not limited to turkey meaty sticks, turkey moist treats and turkey-themed toys. Send them to Buddy, King of Mew York. The post office will know where to direct them.
Catnip isn’t illegal because the market would simply move underground under the control of the Gatos Gangs.
No one wants to see a revival of the bloody turf wars that resulted from the last time crusading politicians classified “the nip” as a Schedule I controlled substance.
The days of illegality were marked by brutal violence at the paws of niplords like Avon Meowsdale and Pawblo Escobar, who controlled the public housing towers and street corners with an iron claw, dispatching armies of furry minions to push that kitty crack.
It all seems like a joke until you slow-roll through the neighborhood and watch previously respectable cats splayed out on the sidewalks, twitching and drooling, dispatched by that foul weed to a world where neurons fire in poultry flavors and every object is a ball of yarn just waiting to be unraveled.
If your cat has been addicted to the nip, you’ll know the signs.
Medicine cabinets, pantries and kitchen cupboards sloppily rummaged through by shaking paws.
Oregano bottles left half-empty because your cat gorged himself on the herb until he realized he wasn’t getting high.
Globs of half-digested kibble upchucked in corners and closets by your withdrawal-stricken, sweat-matted kitty.
Cans of expensive cat food vanishing overnight, used as currency to purchase “can bags” of the insidious perennial.
Cat condos, toys and scratchers suddenly disappearing, pawned by desperate kitties who just need to “get well one last time.”
In short, illegal catnip turns our beloved felines into criminals who stalk the seedy underbellies of our cities, padding to all sorts of unsavory locations in pursuit of a fix. It empowers gangs like The Gatos and fuels feline criminal empires, which in turn leads to savage turf wars.
When veterinary clinics were filled to capacity with the victims of the brutal catnip wars, it was a wake-up call. Even kittens were caught up in the crossfire and recruited by The Gatos to serve as look-outs and runners.
Nowadays catnip is a strictly regulated yet legal market controlled by the likes of Jackson Galaxy and the Meowijuana Company instead of The Gatos. The world is a better place for it.
My human doesn’t groom herself and it’s very distressing to me. She has so much hair yet not once have I seen her licking her paws and rubbing them through her mane.
Dear Buddy,
My human doesn’t groom herself and it’s very distressing to me. She has so much hair yet not once have I seen her licking her paws and rubbing them through her mane. This is getting to be a bit much: I already catch dinner since she is inept at hunting, but she doesn’t appreciate that. I brought her a nice juicy mouse, but she freaked out and threw it away! No appreciation, I tell ya…
Anyways, what should I do about the grooming?
Hygienic in Hawaii
Dear Hygienic in Hawaii,
I’m glad you wrote to me, because this is an ongoing problem with humans! I own a male human and have tried to teach him how to groom himself to no avail.
What I recommend you do is wait until your human is asleep. That’s what I do. When Big Buddy settles down in bed I start grooming myself like I’m about to go to sleep, and as soon as I hear him snoring I finish up grooming my butt with my tongue and pad on over to his face. He has hair on top of his head and on his cheeks and chin, so I usually start with his chin and work my way up.
If he wakes up I just start purring and go “Meow meow, look at me I’m a simple kitty!” and he falls to sleep again, allowing me to finish the job.
You can try communicating, but it won’t work. Humans are stupid. Everyone knows poop in a shoe means “You’re disgusting! Bathe yourself!” but humans just get mad and yell about how much the shoe costs. Idiots.
Welcome to Pain In The Bud, a new blog dedicated to Buddy the Cat! Approximately 99.5% of the content will be about turkey.
Welcome to Buddy’s new home on teh interwebs.
“Time spent with cats is never wasted.”
— Sigmund Freud
As you can see, we’re just getting started.
Thanks to everyone who has followed Buddy over from the old blog. It’s long past due for the little guy to get a site of his very own and since he has a vague sense that people on the magic glowing rectangle like to read about him, he’s been bugging me to create a space where it’s all Buddy, all the time.
I don’t have any set-in-stone plans for this blog, but we’ll probably bring back the regular features:
Dear Buddy: An Advice Column for Cats: Felines around the world write to Buddy for advice. Why they’d do that is anyone’s guess, but little man will continue to dispense his, uh, wisdom.
Unused Audio Commentary: Big Buddy and Little Buddy watch movies and record their own special audio commentary.
Photos of Buddy: No Buddy blog would be complete without photos to show off how muscular and ripped he thinks he is.
Buddy Noir: Stories about Buddy’s secret life as a narcotics kingpin controlling the flow of catnip into the New York City area. It’s hard out there for a fat cat slingin’ The Nip.
Royal pronouncements from His Grace King Buddy.
Turkey: Every day is Thanksgiving for Buddy!
And of course I hope to be inspired and write posts about what it’s like to live with the little tyrant as his loyal servant.
Please send me feedback! If you have any suggestions for the site, ideas for posts or general questions, drop me a line using the contact form.
Pain In The Bud 