Looking to recuperate after a long morning of eating and lounging in the suddenly warm weather, the little guy settled down for some shut-eye.
What’s better than a Sunday afternoon nap?
It’s been a glorious day here in Buddyland! The forecast had us breaking the 50-degree mark for the first time in at least four months, so imagine our surprise when the temperature topped out in the low 60s!
Bud decided to celebrate the balmy weather by stretching out and drifting off for a nice nap, and I couldn’t resist taking a few photos of my pal looking relaxed after a hard day of eating and lounging.
To be fair, I was out earlier and when I came home, Bud was right by the door to greet me as always, so he probably had a very demanding nap in the proximity of the front door while I was gone, then opted for a more relaxed nap after expending all that energy on his earlier nap. I had also topped off his dry food before his lunch, in case he got hungry while he was eating.
Archie the cat, with his love of exercise, is the anti-Buddy.
This is unbelievable.
A three-year-old cat named Archie, who also hails from New York, loves running on his human’s treadmill. Mariah, his 27-year-old servant, keeps a close eye on the little guy while he gets his run in to make sure he doesn’t get hurt, but he seems entirely unperturbed and pumps his little legs, keeping a steady pace:
Honestly, I can barely comprehend this. Bud would be more likely to engineer a treadmill into an automated system to deliver snacks to him so he doesn’t have to lift a paw. He is, after all, remarkably dedicated to the craft of being as lazy as possible.
Cheers to Archie for showing not all cats are loafing blobs!
Last night I was in the kitchen looking for something, anything, to satisfy a sudden craving for sugar when Bud padded up and gave me one of the standard greetings in his Buddinese repertoire.
It’s just a “Hmmmmph!” in his high, Elmo-like voice, an acknowledgement that he sees me and he’s watching with interest, but without any of the typical demands or strong opinions attached.
“Hmmmmmph!” I replied.
“Hmmmmmph!” he said again, and we went back and forth until he stopped, tilted his head curiously, and gave me a look that said “Are you making fun of me again?”
I couldn’t help myself and busted out laughing, bending down to mess up the fur on top of his head as he rubbed up against my leg.
Of course I can’t actually prove that he understands our little exchange, but I know in my heart that he does. Sometimes he gets indignant when I laugh at him. Sometimes I get indignant when he gleefully smacks me or tries to chew on my glasses.
But mostly we laugh together, and he understands that human laughter is a happy sound, even when he’s deeply confused about what exactly I find so funny.
Will I ever have this kind of bond with another cat? I don’t know. It’s taken more than a decade to get here, a decade of being inseparable and understanding each other on a fundamental level.
But I’m not going to spoil it by spending too much time thinking about it. That would ruin the joke.
Buddy the Cat’s female admirers, both feline and human, say he is a sexy beast.
NEW YORK — For the third night in a row, Buddy the Cat rolled onto his back, belched thunderously, and settled down for a restful nap surrounded by the devoured remnants of treats and snacks gifted to him for Valentine’s Day.
“It’s wonderful to be so loved that hundreds of Valentines Day packages are deliv…ooh, bacon-flavored crunchies!” Buddy said, breaking his train of thought after discovering six or seven of the little treats under a pile of opened and discarded packages.
“Where was I?” the bloated feline asked, blinking. “Oh yeah. It’s such a great feeling to have so many admirers that … mmmm, sandwich … every day brings new …* burp *! … gifts of food to sample and … oh, I love turkey gravy!”
The chubby tabby has been the recipient of countless Valentine’s Day gifts this year, reflecting his considerable popularity among females, both feline and human. He’s been eating his way through them with enthusiasm since the packages began arriving.
Witnesses report the well-fed feline was unable to complete a sentence without getting distracted and stopping to shovel food into his mouth mid-sentence.
“He only stops eating when he falls asleep,” one witness told PITB. “At this rate, his human will have to roll him around like a boulder because, frankly, I’m not sure anyone makes a cat carrier with material strong enough to lift him without ripping apart.”
As of press time, Buddy had fallen asleep with a sloppy hand-written note taped to his forehead, asking visitors to leave Valentine’s Day gifts in one of the 27 provided baskets.
“Activate your chakras and, like, serve me turkey and stuff.”
Buddy the Cat sits in a lotus position, whiskers relaxed, with a serene expression on his face.
“As we enter the quantum realm of the mind and traverse the sacred lacuna leading to the mysteries of the cosmos, let us allow ourselves to drift, to feel the subtle tug of gravity asserting itself upon our quantum existences, so that we may reach simultaneous quantum enlightenment within the subatomic and macro universes,” Buddy says softly as a room full of his disciples imitate his posture.
Suddenly the chubby cat opens his eyes, scanning the room.
“And now the time has come,” he says, “for a quantum nap. Who would please the spirit of the cosmos by providing a suitably soft napping substrate?:
Buddy regains his kitten form after communing with the quantum alchemists of Epsilon Eridani, who grant him special powers after circumambulating a triple star system within a quantum starship and stuff.
Every hand shoots up, with disciples — or “quantum mignons,” in Buddesian parlance — begging to be chosen.
The guru pads along the rows of disciples, wrinkling his nose to “discern the most comfortable chakras,” before settling in the lap of Maelle, a 20-year-old exchange student from France.
“I feel so blessed to be chosen,” she confesses as Guru Buddy climbs into her lap.
“I shall meditate,” Buddy tells her with a yawn, “upon your anima as the soothing stillness of sleep embraces me, fortifying your spirit with an increase in your alpha quotient.”
“And remember,” Buddy says, “should you feel the call of nature or the need to adjust your position, meditate upon your quantum quantumness to fortify your, uh, quantums so you don’t disturb me.”
The tabby cat settles down, then opens one eye.
“I almost forgot,” he says, raising his meows so all can hear him. “Please prepare my post-nap feast, for the quantum processes of my restorative beauty sleep make me famished. Serving me delicious food is most pleasing to the cosmic pantheon. I shall now spirit-walk the galactic plane and commune with the ancient alchemists of Epsilon Eridani to probe the mysteries of dark matter and KFC Extra Crispy. Can someone bring me a quantum pillow?”
Pain In The Bud 