Have you ever asked your cat what she wants to eat?
Every once in a while, as Bud happily dances around the kitchen because he knows it’s Yums O’Clock, I’ll look through the available inventory and give him a choice.
“Hey, Bud!” I’ll say, holding a different kind of food in each hand. “Which one do you want?”
And without fail he’ll mrrrrrp enthusiastically and select his dinner by choosing one can – or more often, a Perfect Portions tub – and rubbing his face against it while trilling.
I’ve addressed the topic of meal variety before on PITB. One great piece of advice I got before adopting the king was to feed him as many different varieties of food as possible. Turkey, his absolute and longtime favorite, chicken, tuna, salmon, beef, duck, trout, pate, chunks, shredded cuts in sauce. Sheba, Iams, Nutro, Blue, Fancy Feast, and occasionally even the Temptations “catnip-flavor” pate, even though that’s probably not great for him.
Credit: David Yu/Pexels
It has many benefits, the most obvious of which is that he enjoys his meals, he looks forward to them, and he reliably eats his wet food. That’s important because cats have a low thirst drive and he needs the hydration. It’s also satisfying as his caretaker to remove his bowl when he’s done and see that he’s licked it clean. It means he’s happy, healthy, has a good appetite, and he won’t be yowling at me for snacks because he’s still hungry.
It also means we won’t be put in a tough spot if, say, one particular brand changes its formula or discontinues a flavor. I’ve heard stories of frustrated people taking weeks to find a food their finicky cats will accept when a particular favorite is no longer available.
Still, I wonder if given the choice, he’d want even more variety. I don’t even know if he’s actively making a choice when I give it to him. Can he smell the food through the sealed packages? Is he really selecting what he wants, or is he just picking one at random?
He’s crazy, he’s a whirling ball of energy and he frequently plots to take over the world, but he’s my feline pal.
We’d only been home for a few hours and already the kitten was demanding I let him out of the bedroom.
I’d done lots of reading before bringing my new pal home to his forever abode. I was prepared for him to remain in his carrier, dash under my bed only to emerge for food and water, or cry in confusion.
He did none of those things.
Instead the tiny kitten came striding out of his carrier, surveying his new surroundings with interest, and proceeded to conquer everything in sight like a furry little Genghis Khan.
He was loud, he never stopped “talking,” and I got the distinct impression that everything that previously belonged to me now belonged to him.
“Comfy chair! Mine!” he meowed. “Oooh, a big bed! Mine! Are these bowls mine too? Of course they are. Look, toys! Mine! Hey what’s this thing with black and white keys on it? A synthesizer, you say? Well, this ‘synthesizer’ is now mine! Look at how much fun it is to run on it!”
All the advice on the internet emphasized keeping the kitten in one room for at least a couple of days so as not to overwhelm the little one. He needed to know where the essentials like his litter box, scratcher and food bowls were located, and he needed to feel safe.
But Buddy, the name I called him while trying to think of something clever — and would officially bestow on him two weeks later — had other ideas.
There was an entire apartment beyond that closed door, and it was very important for him to survey his new kingdom and claim its contents immediately!
So I reluctantly opened the door and a little ball of whirling energy came tearing out, narrating his activities in real time in a voice that sounded like a baby Elmo as he got into everything.
I realized very early on that first night that the cautious approach I’d planned on was out the window. Any restrictions recommended by internet guides were not applicable with this kitten.
The idea that he would sleep in his bed and I’d retain my own? Laughable! I was fortunate he would allow me to continue sleeping there, and only after he was tired of tormenting me. With the lights out he ruthlessly attacked my toes, tearing me out of sleep almost as soon as I lost consciousness before retreating into the darkness to cackle gleefully and do it all over again.
The human makes funny noises when I bite his feet! the tiny kitten trilled delightedly. So fun!
Enduring his relentless assaults on my feet seemed a small price to pay when I woke up on one of those first nights and found Bud fast asleep with all four paws wrapped around my right arm, clearly comforted by my presence and proximity. It would become the first of countless times when I would endure an uncomfortable position, an arm or leg going numb, or put off the call of nature to avoid disturbing my little Buddy.
That was 12 years ago and I can’t really remember what life was like before Buddy was a part of it.
He has become my best friend, my constant companion, my foil, my partner in crime, and a reliable reminder not to take life too seriously. He’s my shadow. I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to sleep without him draped over me or borrowed between my knees.
He is, unfortunately, the primary culprit in interrupted sleep, but he doesn’t wake me because he’s hungry or thirsty. I make sure he has a bowl of dry food and fresh water before bed every night in addition to his two daily wet food meals. (And all the snacks he demands through urgent meows.)
He doesn’t conduct night time commando raids on my feet anymore either. Mercifully he grew out of that behavior within a year.
He wakes me not because he wants food or water, but because he wants to be buddies. He wants to purr contentedly as I rub the top of his head and tell him what special, handsome and good boy he is. He wants to thank me by grooming my hair and later, while I am asleep, he’ll groom his butt with his barbed tongue before grooming my face. I’m a lucky man!
He is such a major part of my life that I began writing humorous stories about his exploits and founded this blog at the request of people who wanted more Buddy.
Heck, he’s even become the context by which I define myself online. He is Little Buddy and I am Big Buddy. On this blog I cover cat-related news, post movie and game reviews and write about topics that interest me, but the primary focus has always been Buddy and his adventures, real and imagined.
In many ways it’s absurd. What kind of lunatic writes a blog glorifying his feline friend and imagining him in ridiculous scenarios, like joining Yemeni pirate crews, running his own catnip empire and maintaining a popular OnlyFans account for female admirers?
And yet with Bud, it’s appropriate. He’s crazy in the most endearing, lovable way imaginable. He’s a remarkably vocal cat who trills exuberantly when he’s happy, chats with the speed of an auctioneer when he spots birds, and screeches with unshakable determination when the treats I dispense – or their volume- disappoint him.
Schemeowtics for Buddy the Cat. Note the huge meowscles.
Perhaps most touching of all, there have been three times I’ve gotten debilitatingly ill in the last 12 years, and on each of those occasions Buddy refused to leave my side.
When I was knocked on my ass after finally getting COVID in 2023, Buddy was practically attached to me. Miraculously he did not screech or slap my face when his mealtime came and went. He just let me sleep and purred quietly as he waited for me to wake. Knowing cats were vulnerable to COVID, and having lost a relative and two neighbors to that virus, I thought if I got sick I’d find a way to quarantine myself from Bud for his sake.
That was never going to be an option, I realized in retrospect.
Cynics will say he was worried about his meal ticket, that his survival is pegged to mine. But that’s not true. While Bud has no way of knowing I have made arrangements with my family for one of them to take him if anything happens to me, ensuring he will never end up in a shelter, he misses me dearly when I go away.
I’ll never forget the way he meowed in excitement when I was in Japan and called home to Facetime while my mom was cat-sitting him. He gave me a slow-blink as if unsure if he was really seeing me on the screen, then gave a cry of joy when I blinked back before he launched into one of his usual monologues.
Likewise he always makes a big deal of my arrival back home. The first few times he actually began shaking with emotion and threw up in relief. The poor little guy, I realized, didn’t know if I was coming back. Since then he has a routine that involves pretending he’s angry at me for leaving and feigning ambivalence, which usually lasts about a half hour at most before he drops the act. Then he clings to me even more than usual for a few days.
Yet he does not have an unhealthy attachment. Like all cats, Bud opts for alone time sometimes, and when he shuffles his napping spots every two or three months there’s usually a few days when he prefers napping on the other couch, under the dinner table or on top of a heat vent. Then it’s back to his regularly scheduled lap-napping.
So if the question is “What makes your pal special?” my answer is everything. Every day with him is a gift, and I intend to appreciate every moment of it, even when he’s a royal pain in the Bud.
This post is a response to WordPress’ daily writing prompt: Share a photo of your pet and tell us one thing that makes them uniquely them.
.“I think…I’m pretty sure I’m feeling it. Oh yeah! Break out the laser pointer and the snacks!”
The Likweli are only the fifth new primate species discovered in the last 75 years, and differ considerably from their closest cousins.
Deep in the jungles of the Congo basin, in an area wild and dense with trees and verdant undergrowth, crickets sing.
And cutting into their song, coming from high in the jungle canopy, are deep croaks, but they don’t come from frogs.
The source of the mysterious calls are a new species of monkey called the Likweli by the few locals who are aware of them. Likweli are rare, difficult to find and live between two rivers – the Lomami and the Lilo — about 1,200 kilometers from their closest relatives, the colobus angolensis. (Commonly known collectively as colobus monkeys, they are split into six subspecies.)
Likweli have short black fur like their cousins but differ in the color of their mouths and noses, which range from a beige cream to a tangerine-like hue, as well as the shape of their skulls and their deep, rhythmic, croak-like vocalizations.
They’re only the fifth new primates species discovered in the last 75 years, and the excitement at their discovery has been tempered with concern that they may already be endangered.
It took substantial effort to find, observe and take DNA samples from Likweli, scientists say, and there hasn’t been an opportunity for assessing their numbers yet. However, because Likweli live in a relatively small range and depend on the high canopy to thrive (they eat a diet of mostly leaves and live above most potential predators), they’re vulnerable.
Members of the team who found them published a study this week in the open-access journal Plos One.
The process of tracking, photographing, studying and testing the new species took almost 20 years, according to the study’s authors.
“The first evidence of the new species came in 2008 during exploration of the Lomami Basin by members of the Lukuru Foundation, in an area that later became Lomami National Park. Ashley Vosper and Bernard Ikembelo photographed an unidentified monkey in a high forest canopy on the east bank of the Lomami River in the Courbure Sector, named for six large meanders of the Lomami River,” they wrote. “Although the photograph revealed only part of the animal, the field team strongly suspected that this was not any of the monkey species they already knew from the region. Following the initial sighting, nothing more was reported until November 2018, when Jean Pierre Kapale led a surveillance patrol in the Courbure Sector and photographed a black monkey with pale markings around its mouth and a white perianal patch. These characters were unlike those of any known primate species in the area.”
They were able to find and photograph seven more monkeys before beginning efforts for observational study. Likweli live in small family groups of about six individuals on average, they found.
The discovery is a reminder that our beautiful planet is still capable of surprising us even at a time when human behavior and expansion has placed unprecedented pressure on animal species. It’s a reminder that our planet is irreplaceable, that life continues to find new expressions and niches to branch into, and we shouldn’t give up on it.
No matter what the Elon Musks of the world say, no matter how many renders they share depicting grand cities in domed Martian craters or clinging to the underside of Europa’s thick ice crust inside its subsurface oceans, there is only one place thst is absolutely perfect for us, that we evolved to live on and care for.
Even if the science fiction futures that Musk, Bezos, Thiel, Altman and company envision ever come to pass, even if science fiction technology like terraforming becomes reality, there is no backup. Earth, its fauna and flora are ours to protect, a responsibility we need to take seriously for the collective future of every kind of life that exists here.
Let’s hope the Likweli and all species that follow have a place to thrive.
While allogrooming — animals socially grooming each other — is a sign of community, alliance and social bonds in other species, apparently cats have found a way to weaponize it.
By analyzing footage of cats grooming each other, the Belgian team confirmed cats groom the way other animals do, signaling closeness, trust and all that good stuff…most of the time.
But they also use it to seriously piss each other off, usually to take possession of territory they covet.
“I saw these weird grooming patterns in my own cats where I thought, ‘This is not super friendly at all,’” Morgane Van Belle, a cat behaviorist and co-author of the new study, told the New York Times. “Sometimes one cat would lay on the blanket near the window and the other cat would come up and start licking it — but in an annoying way.”
Credit: Francesco Ungaro/Pexels
The aggressor cat is hoping the other feline will get so annoyed with the invasive grooming that they’ll abandon their prize spot, whether it’s a sun puddle or a particularly comfortable spot on the couch.
The study’s authors believe there’s more to learn about this behavior, and understanding it can help people mitigate conflict among their feline overlords.
For readers who have multiple cats, have you witnessed this behavior?
For what it’s worth, allogrooming between cats and humans is a thing too. For example, I brush the Budster, and he grooms my hair when I’m in bed.
Some people find that gross, but I try to take it was the compliment it is. Thankfully I have not been subject to weaponized hair grooming, but I’ve seen examples of the behavior the Belgian researchers have identified, and once you realize what you’re looking at, it makes perfect sense. Taking a normal behavior and turning it into an instrument of annoyance is also a very feline thing to do.
Cats show great ingenuity, so we’re fortunate they’re extremely lazy. If sufficiently motivated, they could undoubtedly rule the world.
A Kardashian admitted she had her cats declawed, but wouldn’t take responsibility. People who are thinking of adopting should know declawing is mutilation and makes cats miserable.
Khloe Kardashian says she regrets having her cats declawed, admitting on her podcast this week that the kitties are “miserable” since she had them mutilated.
But she stopped short of taking responsibility, electing to blame an unnamed party for allegedly telling her it was okay to have her cats’ toes amputated at the first knuckle.
“I was really misadvised about getting my cats declawed. I’ve never owned cats before. I didn’t even know that was a thing. I feel really, really terrible that I did go in this direction,” Kardashian said.
Look, I get it. Learning stuff is, like, hard. If only someone would invent a worldwide network, an “internet” if you will, where one might access the entire sum of human knowledge with but a few keystrokes!
In the absence of such a miraculous technology, how are we to know that chopping off a cat’s toes will cause them a lifetime of pain and discomfort?
Credit: Instagram
Sarcasm aside, I’m not interested in going on at length about the Kardashians or litigating this decision online. Plenty of people are doing that. There’s really no point.
What I am concerned about is the unfortunate fact that the Kardashians have influence.
Because Kardashian isn’t taking responsibility, and she brought up her decision to declaw her cats in the context of her feelings and her regret, she is not effectively communicating why declawing is wrong, nor what it does to cats.
If you don’t know what it is, you should know declawing is mutilation. It is the amputation of your cat’s toes at the first knuckle.
It permanently changes a cat’s gait, leading to early onset arthritis. It makes simple tasks like walking and using the litter box painful.
It causes psychological problems because claws are a cat’s first and primary defense. Without them, cats feel vulnerable. That can manifest in several different ways, leading them to become fearful, or to become quick to bite because they have no other options.
Khloe Kardashian was previously caught “face tuning” her cats, meaning she applied filters to them to make them look different.
Declawing is cruel, barbaric and has no place in a civilized society. It is illegal in most of the world, and US states are finally joining civilization with laws banning the procedure. Kardashian lives in California, where it is banned, so presumably she had it done before the ban or despite it. If it’s the latter, the chances of her facing legal consequences are slim to none.
If you’re worried about protecting furniture, there are much better options, but you should also know cats have normal behaviors that don’t always align with the concept of a perfectly-kept house. Your cat will test boundaries, throw up when she’s had too much food too fast, knock things over, get into places you never thought he’d get into, cough up hairballs and more.
You will be surprised. Things will be broken.
But that’s part of the feline appeal: they’re curious, playful animals, and you have to earn their trust. Once you do, they’ll be your pals for life — and you don’t want to betray that trust by making life miserable for them.
Pain In The Bud 