Tag: Buddy the Cat

Bye, Buddy: Why I Got Rid Of My Cat

When I started Pain In The Bud, my goal wasn’t to celebrate cats or to express my love for my cat by sharing his quirks and amusing anecdotes about his allegedly adorable behavior.

I had one goal and one goal only: To make money. That’s why you see ads all over this site, and it’s why I’ve been relentlessly hawking certain pet products. The companies behind those products pay me big bucks!

Which brings us to our next bit of news. Since I’ve been writing about Buddy online, creating a fictionalized version of him that is delightful and loveable, and selecting only the best photos to make him look handsome and dashing, I’ve received several offers to buy him.

To be clear, the reason I didn’t sell him before was not because I was hesitant to part with him. He’s annoying AF, he’s a degenerate catnip addict and he never, ever shuts up.

The real reason? I was holding out for more money. The more I wrote about him, the more delightful and adorable he’d appear to readers, driving his price up. It’s kind of like a basketball team giving more playing time to a player on the trading block, pumping up his stats so he’ll command a higher price on the open market.

The Buddinese Tiger
A promotional image that was part of my dastardly campaign to drive up Buddy’s price in the recent bidding war. He is not a tiger.

So when the most recent offer came in last week, I felt I’d driven Buddy’s price up as high as it would go. A potential buyer in Somalia offered $20,000 for the little stinker! In the meantime, another interested party — a competitive table-setting champion from Skokie, Illinois — offered $22,000.

It was time for a bidding war!

Ladies and gentlemen, I’m happy to report that Buddy has been sold to the Somali for $28,550. The lucky (or unlucky, really) bidder, a pirate who plunders the commercial shipping lanes off the coast of his native country, believed all the nonsense about Buddy being a fierce and powerful miniature tiger, and was in the market for a guard cat to help keep his booty safe.

They tell me there is no turkey where Buddy has gone, and he was very angry about that. Oh well. His new owner is also a neatness freak with OCD who vacuums his home six times a day, which I imagine does not sit well with Buddy, given his history with vacuum cleaners.

But who cares? I got almost 30 grand out of the deal! I’m going to buy a new Les Paul to replace the one “Buddy” (real name Jerkus Maximus) broke, my home is blissfully quiet, and I can sleep through the night without being woken by that infernal little tribble with a tail licking my face. Who in their right mind wants to be roused in the middle of the night by a purring cat? It’s absurd.

So it is with a not-so-heavy heart that I announce an end to Pain In The Bud. He really was a huge pain in the bud. Now he’s someone else’s pain in the bud. Huzzah!

P.S. With Buddy gone, I plan to refocus this blog on the wonderful world of Hummels and the extremely profitable Hummel resale market. Wanna buy the hottest Hummels at street prices? Hit me up.

Sad Buddy
Awww, so sad! Buddy has been exiled to Somalia!

California Shelter Is Out Of Cats: Adoptions At Record Highs

A shelter in Orange County, California, reached a milestone on Monday after it adopted out the very last of its cats.

“It’s really weird. We have five rooms for cats to roam free, and they’re all empty,” WAGS Pet Adoption’s Cortney Dorney told the Orange County Register. “Normally, we hang out with the cats while we eat our lunch, and now there’s none to hang out with.”

A brown and white tabby named Sphinx was the last kitty to go, scoring a home with a 27-year-old IT specialist who works from home. When he found out all the others were gone, adopter Jairo Granado said he was “glad to be the one who ended up with” Sphinx.

Staffers say they know the reprieve will be short-lived as there are always cats who need homes, but what they’ve seen reflects a much larger trend across the US and UK since the pandemic began forcing people to shelter in place and practice social distancing.

Shelters are setting new adoption records, and in some areas the “supply” of adoptable cats and dogs currently exceeds demand.

“It’s a great time to have a buddy in the house,” Dorney said.

And it’s a great time for buddies to find homes.

Unfortunately, the unprecedented surge in adoption is also a major factor in the pet food shortages currently impacting both countries now. A lack of materials to manufacture cat food packaging, especially tins, is making it more difficult for brands to meet demand for wet food, and disruptions to links in the supply chain — like COVID outbreaks in meat packing plants — are exacerbating the problem.

Companies like Royal Canin, FreshPet and Purina have either apologized or have tried to ease concerns by saying they believe the shortage will ease in May.

Stories about the shortages have me glad I started rotating as many different kinds of food as possible when Buddy was a kitten, so he’d never get picky enough to pass up food as long as it’s decent quality. Some people and their cats haven’t been so lucky.

One story details the frustrations of a Massachusetts man, 49-year-old David Saltz, whose cat Tiger will only eat one type of food from one brand: Fancy Feast Classic Tender Beef Paté.

“I tried literally every other variety of soft canned cat food in the store — including a few cans of some way overpriced, niche, microbrew, small-batch, all-natural, wild-animal-approved, non-GMO, grass-fed (did I mention ridiculously overpriced?) canned food,” Saltz told AARP. “Almost all were turned down. Only occasionally would she eat a bit of a particular flavor, and I would go buy more of that kind, but she was having none of it.”

Bud’s always got a rotation, and it usually looks something like this: Turkey, chicken, salmon, turkey, tuna, beef, turkey, seafood entree, chicken and liver, turkey, and so on. The Buddy-approved ratio is turkey every third meal. And it’s not just about making sure he eats his food: He seems to really enjoy his meals thanks to the variety and good quality (but not outrageously expensive) cat food.

Today Is ‘Respect Your Cat Day’!

To: Buddy the Larger

From: Buddy the Smaller But Smarter and Better Looking

Memorandum on National Respect Your Cat Day

Dear Big Buddy,

As you know, Sunday (March 28) is National Respect Your Cat Day, a very important holiday!

Last year’s spread was subpar and underwhelming, so you find yourself in receipt of this message in an effort to avoid repeating the Great Tragedy of 2020.

This year’s spread should include a selection of cheeses including cheddar, swiss, provolone and my personal favorite, gouda, in addition to a delicious array of meats including turkey, turkey and more turkey.

You can skip the veggies: No plants except catnip and silver vine!

In the spirit of today’s holiday you must play with me more than usual, give me more massages, tell me I’m a good boy at least 20 times, and above all, respect my authoritah!

It’s gonna be an epic partay!

Buddy on catnip
Mmmmm, catnip!
Buddy on Catnip
Oh yeah! That’s good!
Buddy on catnip
“I think…I’m pretty sure I’m feeling it. Oh yeah! Break out the laser pointer and the snacks!”
2FCDCAEB-2EB1-427B-B340-D4003AB9D8AB
Buddy the Cat, a true hero.

Bewildered Tigers Watch As Buddy Enters Enclosure

NEW YORK — A domestic feline entered the big cat enclosure at the Bronx Zoo on Wednesday, with the bemused tiger inhabitants unsure of how to respond to the brazen intruder.

“Sup guys!” the silver tabby calling himself Buddy meowed to the confused big cats, according to witnesses.

The bold domestic feline, who weighs approximately 10 pounds, made his way around the enclosure, fist-bumping each of the tigers before sauntering over to the rock pool and laying down next to a 506-pound male named Gerald.

“Whaddup, Gerald,” Buddy the Cat said as he emulated the much larger cat’s posture. “What’s good, my homie?”

Gerald turned his head toward the smaller cat and roared, but Buddy was unperturbed.

“Yeah,” he said to the massive tiger. “I feel you, bro. Haters gonna hate, am I right? Us apex predators just don’t get no respect no more.”

Gerald roared again.

“Exactly what I’m saying, my dude,” Buddy replied.

The massive felid eyed Buddy for a second as if deciding whether there was enough meat on his bones to justify turning him into a snack, then shrugged and yawned.

Bud and Gerald the Tiger
Best homies.

Asked later why he entered the tiger enclosure, Buddy said it was “important to connect with my heritage.”

“I’m showing solidarity with my peeps,” the silver tabby told reporters.

Encouraged by the fact that the tigers seemed to tolerate his presence, Buddy returned to the enclosure later the same day, only for a white tigress to claim him.

“I’m not your cub!” the tabby said, squirming as the tigress lifted him with the scruff of his neck between her teeth. “I’m a grown tiger! Put me down this instant!”

The domestic cat still hadn’t emerged from the tigress’ den by the next morning. A witness using a telephoto lens confirmed Buddy tried to make a run for it several times, only to be pulled back and given a tongue bath.

“Unpaw me! Untongue me!” he could be heard screaming from inside the den. “Help! Somebody help me!”

A zoo spokesman said there were currently no plans to free Buddy the cat.

Purrlock Holmes and The Fowl of The Baskerville

“And the turkey, it were just gone, just like that!” said the fat cat relaying his story to Purrlock in the sitting room at 221B Baker St. “The bowl was full of fresh, delicious turkey one minute, then licked clean the next. Third time this week. I’m at me wit’s end!”

Purrlock plucked a discordant note on his cello and shifted in his seat.

“It’s all perfectly obvious then, isn’t it?”

The pudgy cat looked hopeful, his primordial pouch jiggling as he leaned forward.

“It is?”

“Indeed. Your roommate Socks is known for fastidious grooming, yet he had a Klingon on his rear two hours after the turkey went missing, which means someone was using the litterbox more frequently and Socks was far less careful than normal in his haste to exit the befouled box. From the abundance of tracked litter outside the box we can deduce that another cat made use of it on several more occasions between the time it was last cleaned at 10 pm the previous evening and 10 am this morning.

“In addition, only two of the three bowls — yours and Socks’ — were licked clean, with several morsels of beef pate still left in Oreo’s bowl. Thus we can deduce Oreo ate your turkey and most of his beef pate, necessitating twice his usual trips to the litter box, accounting for the larger-than-usual mess inside, Socks’ unfortunate Klingon, and the extra tracked litter. Ergo, Oreo was your turkey thief. Next!”

Elementary, my dear Watson
Purrlockian attire.

Mr. Fuzzy stood up as Purrlock returned to plucking his cello.

“That were amazing, that was!” Fuzzy said to Watson as he shuffled out of the sitting room. “Now it’s time for me to have a little talk with me mate Oreo. Good day, Mr. Holmes, Mr. Watson!”

Watson waited until Fuzzy had descended the steps leading out from 221B Baker Street before clearing his throat.

“Forty six seconds,” he said, managing to sound impressed. “Might be a new record.”

Purrlock didn’t look up from his cello.

“Please. London’s criminals are becoming tediously predictable, Watson. If a criminal mastermind doesn’t emerge soon, I’ll have to go and rob a tin cannery myself just to alleviate this dreadful boredom!”

“Your brother Meowcroft phoned earlier. Said he had a case of national importance.”

Purrlock sighed. “Boring!”

Watson jumped onto his desk, pawing through a pile of letters and documents.

“How about this then, Purrlock? From this morning’s paper: ‘Mistmoor Gentlecat Found Dead, Witnesses ID ‘Spectral Hound’ As Culprit.'”

Purrlock played arpeggios.

“Yokels convincing themselves they saw ghostly Beagles? We can do better than that, my dear Watson.”

Tires screeched and a car horn blasted in the street below, followed by obscenities in at least three languages.

“That’s too bad,” Watson meowed, feigning disinterest. “Mistmoor’s home to one of the nation’s largest turkey farms, you know.”

Purrlock’s ears pricked up and swiveled.

“Did you say turkey? My dear Watson, when there’s turkey involved, always lead with that!”

He put down his cello and reached for his coat and hat.

“What are we waiting for, Watson? The game is apaw!”

To be continued…