My humans are good people who serve me well despite their abysmal hunting skills. Every now and then I kill a juicy mouse or a lizard, you know, to show I can provide and pull my weight around here.
Sometimes I leave my gift on the kitchen counter, and sometimes I leave it on one of their pillows in their my bed. High visibility places, you know? Nothing says “You have been serving me adequately, have a delicious meal on me!” quite like leaving the gift where you know it’ll be stumbled upon.
Unfortunately they’re a bunch of ungrateful jerks! They start acting all dramatic, they put the fresh kill in a paper bag like it’s toxic waste and they throw it out. That’s just adding insult to injury.
Why can’t humans express gratitude?
– Maxwell in Maryland
I know exactly what you mean! I used to groom my Big Buddy, using my saliva to shampoo his hair, but he acted like I was the disgusting one.
Well, I solved the problem, yes I did! I wait and quietly groom my butt until my human falls asleep. Then I give my butt a few more thorough licks before climbing on top of my Big Buddy and grooming him, starting with his beard and working my way to his upper lip.
I find that grooming his beard immediately after grooming my butt is best because my poop gives the bristles on my tongue a more malleable quality, which is good for grooming human hair. Plus it leaves his beard smelling nice and familiar, like our home after I use the litterbox!
Humans are just ungrateful creatures, Maxwell, but night time affords many opportunities to help them when they don’t realize it. Why not drop a mouse into your human’s mouth while she’s asleep? Who knows? She might like it!
Did you hear the news about the cat mummies and the big trove of cat statues found by archaeologists in Egypt? My dad says Egypt is a special place ‘cause that’s where humans used to worship us a long time ago. Is that true? Why did they stop?
Kitten in Kentucky
Your dad is right! Egypt is a magical land, a place where humans were once keenly aware of our status as the most awesome species on Earth.
Egypt is where you’ll find the biggest litter box on the planet. It stretches for miles and miles until finally the horizon reveals a huge weather-worn statue of a cat and three stone pyramids jutting out of the litter.
It is said that by pooping in front of the Great Sphinx and reverently burying the poop in the great litter dunes, one can gain the wisdom of the Sphinx and power over the red dot.
This new discovery solidifies our special status in Egypt and gives us insight into how humans worshiped our ancestors. As you can see, the bodies of the kitties are wrapped up. Those are called funerary blankets, nice and soft for kneading and sleeping.
The discovery was made when archaeologists opened the tomb of a royal priest in service to a pharaoh who ruled long ago, when humans knew their place and cats were viewed as da bomb. Inside the tomb, the archaeologists found two mummified lion cubs and the mummies of several kitties, as well as lesser animals like crocodiles.
Also among the treasures were 75 boxes of cat statues which were venerated by the ancient Egyptians.
Archaeologists are calling the find “unprecedented”:
In a rare discovery announced at a press conference by the Egyptian Ministry of Antiquities on Nov. 23, this dusty duo of long-deceased baby lions was found in a Saqqaran tomb filled to the brim with gold-decorated wood, stone, and bronze cat statues, and a cache of cat mummies.
The tomb was found near Giza’s Saqqara necropolis, which archaeologists believe was associated with the cat goddess Bastet and Miysis, who was her son and a lion god himself. Egyptians also worshiped another cat goddess, Sekhmet, who like Bastet had the body of a human woman and the head of a lion.
But there’s one thing you should know, Kitten in Kentucky: Humans never stopped venerating us. They just need to be reminded once in a while with a good hard smack.
This is why, my dear kitten, humans work all day whilst we lounge, and it’s why they often spend more money on our food than they do on their own.
Rejoice, little one, for you are descended from deities!
What do you think of this story about a 31-year-old woman who “identifies as a cat” and calls her boyfriend her “meowster”?
– A Real Cat
Ugh! I cannot unsee this, do you realize that?
First of all, she’s doing it wrong:
What’s wrong with the above picture? Anyone who knows anything about my species will recognize immediately that the collar is on the wrong person. The “cat” should be leading the human around, although a collar isn’t strictly necessary for humans — usually a few stern meows are enough to get the message across.
Kat Lyons (come on!) fastens a tail to her behind, wears a pair of kitty ears on her head, and for some reason completes the look with a Catholic school girl skirt, because apparently my species dresses like Catholic school girls. (Plaid tabbies, anyone?)
In the accompanying video, Ms. Lyons climbs up onto a dinner table and awkwardly laps at a bowl of milk with her tongue.
”People are like ‘Oh, you’re not really a cat,’ and I’m like ‘I feel like I really am, though,’” Lyons told a documentary crew from Barcroft.
So what do I really think about all of this? I say, “Stop appropriating my culture!”
Licking your own butt, pooping in a box and sleeping 16 hours a day are traditions that have a long history among my people, and outsiders simply cannot understand the subtle cultural nuances of such behavior.
For example, screaming bloody murder when dinner is 45 seconds late is a tradition that has deep roots going back millennia to the days of the First Kittehs, and shitting on things is the time-honored way of registering displeasure.
It’s one thing to say “Stop! I don’t like what you’re doing!” and quite another to build a monument of fecal matter on your human’s pillow as a means of expressing deep dissatisfaction.
But if Ms. Lyons really wants to be a cat, she must pass the Trial of the Tabbies, and prove herself by catching and eating a delicious raw mouse.
She must possess the ability to groom herself, and she must demonstrate she can’t open cans anymore.
That’s a human superpower, and if Kat Lyons wants to be a real cat, she must forfeit her ability to perform such sorcery and meow for dinner like the rest of us.
You’re always going on about food as if your Big Buddy doesn’t ply you with snacks. I know he does, because you’re getting chubby.
But that’s beside the point: You’re a cat! You don’t need humans to feed you. You could venture outside and grab yourself a nice juicy mouse or a plump bird!
It’s time for you to get in touch with your roots and your inner predator, Buddy.
– Rodent Hunter in Rhode Island
Dear Rodent Hunter,
First of all, I am NOT chubby. It’s called a primordial pouch, okay? Cats from fierce warrior lineages have them to protect us from the claws of our opponents and the talons of raptors. (The avian kind, not the dinosaurs, although if dinosaurs were still around I’d kick their asses too.)
Secondly, I would totally go outside and hunt me some snacks, but I can’t. It’s in my contract. When you make a living off your devastating good looks like I do, you can’t just get into scraps like a common cat.
If you say so. But humans are constantly leaving tasty treats all over the place. You just need to know where and when to look.
For example, did you know humans eat whipped cream in the bathroom? It’s true! The next time your Big Buddy is shaving his whiskers, find some way to make a distraction that will draw him out of the bathroom.
While he’s distracted you can eat the whipped cream. There will be entire globs of it all around the sink! Just gobble it all down really fast and get out before Big Buddy realizes you’re eating his yummy snacks.
You’ll have plenty of time to savor the taste of that delicious whipped cream once you’re out of the bathroom. When you taste it, I want you to think of me. That’s the taste of victory, Buddy!
– Rodent Hunter in Rhode Island
Dear Rodent Hunter,
Thanks, my friend! It’s nice to know my readers love me so much. Big Buddy usually shaves at night.
Tonight I feast on sweet, yummy whipped cream!
WHAT THE &$@#, DUDE?!? That was NOT whipped cream! It didn’t taste like victory either. It was gross! I had to wash my mouth out eight times and eat half a bowl of kibble just to get the taste off my tongue, and then I got sick.
Do you think Big Buddy knew I was going to steal his whipped cream? He knew, right? That’s why he put that disgusting fake whipped cream for me to find. It’s the only logical explanation.
You’re as sharp as you are handsome, Buddy! That’s got to be what happened. Your Big Buddy must’ve known and he played a prank on you. Makes total sense.
I eat the whipped cream all the time when my human shaves, and it is creamy and delicious! Maybe you should try again. Be really slick about it so your human doesn’t know you’re coming and put the fake whipped cream out for you. Be stealthy!
When you outsmart your human and you get that first taste of milky, creamy, silky deliciousness, remember that you’re a genius and you’ve earned it. Your persistence will pay off!
Let me know how it goes. 🙂
I was outwitted again. 😦 I don’t know how he knew I was going to steal his whipped cream again, but somehow Big Buddy found out and pulled another fast one on me. What’s that saying? Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on you again!
Well I won’t give him the satisfaction of a third time! I’m done trying to steal whipped cream for the time being.
I’m really sorry to hear that, bro. You’re really missing out on a yummy treat. Oh well.
What about…? Nah. Nevermind. It’s better you don’t know about the cakes.
Come on, dude! Don’t hold out on me! What are these cakes you speak of? I’m already getting hungry.
Okay, okay. If you insist. But I must warn you, these things are so delicious you might never go back to cat food again.
They’re called urinal cakes and they’re usually pink, like the color of fresh turkey…
Chronicling the adventures of Buddy the Cat and his various criminal enterprises.