‘My Cat’s Cat,’ PLUS: Bobby Flay Says Goodbye To Nacho

A man in Guam now has two cats after his little buddy adopted his own little buddy.

Last year we wrote about Youtuber Estefannie and her attempts to DIY a sophisticated artificial intelligence-enabled bathroom for her cat Teddy and her “cat’s cat,” Luna, after the former racked up a $3,000 vet bill prompted by an incorrigible plastic-munching habit.

One of the problems, Estefannie explained in her entertaining video on the building and coding process, was that Luna was “technically not my cat, this is Teddy-Bear’s cat.” Luna “uses the same litter box as Teddy,” so Estefannie had to train a machine learning algorithm for the high tech bathroom’s cameras to distinguish between felines.

I’ve always been fascinated by the phenomenon of “cat’s cats,” meaning stray cats who are adopted by la vida loca-living kittypets to share in their warmth, yums and human servantry.

“You gotta move in, Stripes,” I can imagine a well-fed moggie telling a stray buddy. “The service is great, the food is out of this world and the ambience? Oh, the ambience!”

In those cases, the stray usually follows the housecat right into their new home, which is what happened when Christian Fleming’s cat, Little, came back with a friend.

“I was surprised the cat came inside, initially,” said Fleming, who lives in Guam. “But if he’s hungry enough to be that brave, I wasn’t going to begrudge the food.”

Fleming named the new cat Tedo and told Newsweek he’s “90 percent sure he used to be someone’s pet or they left him, which is largely the case with friendly strays out here.” Guam is a US territory in the Pacific, about 1,450 miles east of the Philippines, and to say it’s got a stray cat and dog problem is an understatement, with tens of thousands of homeless animals.

One local veterinarian called the problem “astronomical” in an article for the Pacific Daily News, pointing out there more than 60,000 dogs alone on the 210 square mile island. By contrast there are 168,000 people living in Guam, meaning there’s more than one dog per three people. Cats similarly run rampant, although estimates of their population are harder to pin down.

There’s been a strong effort to spay and neuter in recent years, but local veterinary groups have a massive job in front of them to get the Micronesian island’s domestic animal population under control and reduce the suffering of unwanted cats and dogs.

Tedo is one of the lucky ones and has settled down nicely in his new digs. He’s adjusted to indoor life, regular meals and feeling protected with Little and Fleming, who says he now has “a small herd following me around” in his home.

“He has since gotten braver and more comfortable,” Fleming said. “When he jumped on me to snuggle with Little, I knew he had decided to live here.”

RIP Nacho

I’m not a fan of gastronomical fetishism, the concept of celebrity chefs or the idea that watching someone else eating food on television counts as entertainment, but I do respect Bobby Flay for two things: he’s a cat guy and he had a hilarious cameo in HBO’s Entourage in which he enraged high-powered agent Ari Gold by dating Mrs. Ari while the two were separated.

Flay, who has been the star of more than 20 cooking shows (not including specials) on the Food Network and Cooking Channel, saw the potential for profit in the pet food market and launched Made By Nacho in 2021, naming the food line after his little buddy.

Sadly the photogenic Maine Coon died this week, Flay announced in an Instagram post. Nacho was only nine years old and while that may seem a tragically young age for a cat to die — and it’s tragic any time someone’s beloved pet passes away — Maine Coons lose in lifespan what they gain in size, living an average of 10 to 13 years compared to the 13 to 18 year life expectancy of domestic felines in general.

Flay used the occasion of his cat’s death to hawk his outrageously expensive pet food line, which is weird. In his goodbye post, Flay wrote that “Nacho’s inclusiveness in our home inspired me to create something that would nourish cats everywhere.” Everywhere meaning houses where people don’t mind paying $3 for a 3oz can. (We don’t endorse any particular brand at PITB but Bud’s wet food, which always has real meat as the first ingredient and doesn’t include grain or fillers, costs 51 cents per meal when bought in bulk from Chewy.)

Cat food issues aside, Flay’s undoubtedly grieving his well-loved little friend, and although he recently adopted two more cats, that’s little consolation for losing a feline you’ve loved and bonded with. Best of luck to the Flay family and RIP Nacho.

‘Why I Took 50,000 Pictures Of My Cats Pooping’

One software engineer went to incredible lengths to monitor her cat’s bathroom habits.

When Alan Turing, the father of artificial intelligence, posed the heady question “Can machines think?”, he inspired generations of computer scientists, philosophers, physicists and regular people to imagine the emergence of silicon-based consciousness, with humanity taking the godlike step of creating a new form of life.

And when science fiction writer Philip K. Dick wrote his seminal 1968 novel, “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?” — the story that would eventually become Ridley Scott’s 1982 classic Bladerunner — he wondered what makes us human, and whether an artificial being could possess a soul.

It’s safe to say neither of those techno-prophets were thinking of fledgling AI algorithms, representing the first small steps toward true machine-substrate intelligence, announcing themselves and their usefulness to the world by helping us watch felis catus take a shit.

And yet that’s what the inventors of the LuluPet litter box designed an AI to do, and it’s what software engineer and Youtuber Estefannie did for her cat, Teddy, who’s got a bit of a plastic-eating problem.

“The veterinarian couldn’t tell me how much plastic he ate, and it would cost me over $3,000 [to find out]. So I didn’t do it,” Estefannie explains in a new video. “Instead, the vet gave me the option of watching him go to the bathroom. If he poops and there’s no plastic in his intestines, then he won’t die, and he might actually love me back.”

Estefannie casually described how she wrote a python script, set up a camera and motion sensor, and rigged it to take photos of Teddy doing his business. But, she explained, there was “a tiny problem”: Luna the Cat, aka her cat’s cat.

“This is Luna, this is technically not my cat, this is Teddy-Bear’s cat, and she uses the same litter box as Teddy,” she explained.

For that, she’d need more than a script. She’d have to build a machine learning algorithm to gorge itself on data, cataloguing tens of thousands of photos of Teddy and Luna along with sensory information from the litter box itself, to learn to reliably determine which cat was using the loo.

So Estefannie decided it was a good opportunity to “completely remodel” Teddy’s “bathroom,” including a compartment that would hide the bespoke system monitoring his bowel movements. The system includes sensors, cameras and lights to capture still images of Teddy dropping deuces in infrared, and a live thermal imaging feed of the little guy doing his business. (Teddy’s luxurious new bedroom turned out to be too dark for conventional cameras, thus the pivot to infrared.)

From there, Estefannie manually calculated how long Teddy’s number ones and twos took, and cross-referenced that information with photo timestamps to help determine the exact nature of Teddy’s calls of nature.

catpoopinggui
The future! (Note: This is our cheesy photoshopped interpretation, not Estefannie’s actual stool monitoring interface.)

When all the data is collected, Estefannie’s custom scripts sends it to an external server, which analyzes the images from each of Teddy’s bathroom visits and renders a verdict on what he’s doing in there.

Finally, Estefannie gets an alert on her smartphone when one of the cats steps into the litterbox, allowing her the option of watching a live feed and, uh, logging all the particulars. The software determines if a number two was successful, and keeps detailed records so Teddy’s human servant can see aberrations over time.

“So now I definitely know when Teddy-Bear is not pooping and needs to go to the hospital,” she said.

I am not making this up.

For her part, Estefannie says she’s not worried about a technological singularity scenario in which angry or insulted machines, newly conscious, exact revenge on humans who made them do unsavory tasks.

“Did I make an AI whose only purpose in life is to watch my cats poop?” Estefannie asked, barely keeping a straight face. “Mmmhmm. Will it come after me when the machines rise? No! Ewww!”