fiction – Pain In The Bud

Happy National Cat Day From The Buddies!

Shelters are full of felines who need forever homes, and National Cat Day was founded to make sure they’re not forgotten.

The number of “cat days” keeps growing, with separate dates for national and international cat days, dates honoring black cats, tabbies, calicos and tortoiseshells, and more.

But National Cat Day is one of the OGs, beginning 21 years ago, and it’s endorsed by the ASPCA. The main purpose of National Cat Day, per its founders, is to help homeless kitties find forever homes by inspiring people to adopt.

So we’ll say what we always do: shelters are full of little buddies who are just as lovable and deserving as Little Buddy himself, and all they need is a home, some love and patience to help them feel secure. Once they know they’re safe and loved, their personalities shine through.

If you like feline-centric fiction, Mollie Hunt released her 12th Crazy Cat Lady Mystery novel today. It’s called Cold Case Cat and you can read more about it here.

Meanwhile over at Catwoods, Leah writes about — and includes great photos of — her “Halloween cat,” Shelley. She also revisits the Facebook hoax posts we wrote about a few weeks ago, in which users claim the big cat was spotted in places as varied as Louisiana’s bayou, the Houston region, West Virginia and Wyoming.

Finally, the satirists at McSweeney’s have a new post titled “A Brief Questionnaire Before You Adopt This Rescue Cat,” which takes aim at overzealous shelter/rescue operators who make the process of child adoption look easy by comparison, and are constantly at capacity because they’ve made perfect the enemy of good.

Wanna adopt this cat? Hand over a list of every person you associate with along with their addresses, phone numbers and social security numbers, prepare for a 30-day in-home evaluation by a shelter staffer, and agree to feed kitty a diet of sushi-grade tuna!

While it seems outlandish, I encountered some contracts that were only slightly less onerous before I adopted Bud, and it’s obviously the McSweeney’s team has too.

Now I understand a bit more why some shelter staff are so cautious. They see some of the worst behavior, after all, including people who return cats because they’re too affectionate, animal abuse cases, and cats on death’s door because their humans ignored decades of research and tried to turn their obligate carnivore pets into vegans.

They want to make sure the cats go to good homes, which is admirable, but they shouldn’t overlook potential adopters who are well-intentioned and looking for a little pal.

‘More Purring, More Buying’: Bookstores Give Readers A Reason To Drop In

In the era of Amazon, America’s independent bookstores survive by offering things the online giant can’t.

Like everything else in the realm of print media, bookstores have been having a rough go of it the last decade or two.

Waldenbooks, Crown Books and Borders no longer exist, with the latter chain shuttering its last 400 stores in 2011. Barnes and Noble is the last surviving book chain thanks to an aggressive strategy of expanding their cafe and lounge space, encouraging shoppers to hang out while they sample books and drink coffee.

There are still some 14,000 bookstores in the US, depending on how some hybrid businesses are categorized, and independent booksellers now make up the majority of real-world retail while the giant that is Amazon looms.

The key to survival is offering things Amazon can’t. Some distinguish themselves by catering to specific customers, like fans of mystery or science fiction, offering rare and signed volumes alongside their regular stock. Some pursue a Barnes and Noble-like strategy, leaning heavily into the hybrid coffee shop model. And some become community spaces for book signings and poetry nights.

Others lure customers inside — and back after they’ve already visited — with pets.

In a new story, the New York Times highlights independent book shops around the country that have dogs, lizards, turtles, rabbits, and of course, cats.

When it comes to our furry and clawed friends, some shops are populated with adoptable felines:

At the Literary Cat Co. in Pittsburg, Kansas, readers have the opportunity to adopt a pet while they shop. The store partners with a local rescue organization, hosting about seven cats at a time, along with three permanent feline “employees”: Hank, the regional manager; Scarlett Toe’Hara, the assistant regional manager (she’s polydactyl); and Mike Meowski, the assistant to the assistant regional manager.

Jennifer Mowdy, the store’s owner, described each cat’s role, personality and origin story with the air of a matriarch ticking off successful grandchildren. Speaking of the upper respiratory illness that cost Mike Meowski an eye, she sounded stoic. He was a kitten; she was there for him. They soldiered through.

Mowdy created a glass alcove for allergic customers – and to deter escapees – and a “kitty conference room” (accessible by cat door) for litter boxes. With regular scooping, four air purifiers and daily mists of Mrs. Meyers Room Spray, she said the scent of the store is neutral to positive.

In the past year and a half, the Literary Cat Co. has facilitated 50 adoptions. “We’ve only had one cat that didn’t work out,” Mowdy said. “Too much fight in her.”

Kittens tend to wreak havoc; Mowdy prefers a mature animal of the “Don’t call me, I’ll call you” variety. Felines are welcome to scale shelves and interact with readers as they please, which is their way.

“They get to practice being a good house cat,” Mowdy said. “They get socialized.” Occasionally, the right cat finds the right reader’s lap. The rest is destiny (with the rescue organization handling logistics; the Literary Cat Co. simply makes the introduction).

Check out the entire story here. (No paywall.)

Critics Laud Buddy As A ‘Master Of Horror’ After His Film Debut, ‘The Empty Bowl’

“I found myself subconsciously rationing my popcorn as I sat in the theater,” one critic wrote of the harrowing experience that is ‘The Empty Bowl.’

With a Rotten Tomatoes critic score of 94 percent and an equally enthusiastic reception by fans, Buddy the Cat’s directorial debut. “The Empty Bowl,” has already cemented his place among the modern masters of the horror genre.

The movie follows Dubby, a tabby cat from New York who awakens one day to find his human gone, and most horrifically, his food bowl essentially empty, with just a few morsels pushed to the sides of the ominously hollow container.

Time is measured in the growls of Dubby’s stomach and the lengthening shadows inside his domicile as a sinister score ratchets up the tension.

“Buddy the Cat presents a master class in exploring trauma via the absence of yums,” Associated Press critic Misty Lemire wrote. “We feel Dubby’s hunger as he carefully rations out his remaining pieces of kibble, made worse by the unknowns in front of him: when will Dubby’s human return? Will it be five minutes from now, or five hours? What if there’s nothing left in the cat food cupboard, and he has to go to the store? These are harrowing questions the audience is asked to ponder.”

The film “makes us feel Dubby’s hunger on a visceral level,” feline horror aficionado site YummyDisgusting noted in its review.

Indeed, test audiences indicated they “felt guilty” chowing down as they watched Dubby writhe with hunger.

“I found myself subconsciously rationing my popcorn as I sat in the theater,” New York Times critic Meowchio Mewkatani wrote. “How could I enjoy the buttery goodness in the bucket on my lap as Dubby’s stomach growled in excruciating Dolby surround sound? This is a film that really makes you stop and consider.”

The director told reporters he “wanted to tap into authentic fear, not the fantasy violence that often comes with genre cinema.”

“Obviously there’s something aesthetically primal about an evil, slobbering dog emerging from the shadows,” he said. “But I’m interested in pushing boundaries, not taking the well-padded path. The fear that our minds create is often much more terrifying than any trope.”

In one particularly brutal sequence, Dubby’s human returns home toting several heavy grocery bags, and the snap of a tin can of tuna opening is precisely timed to the crescendo of the orchestral score.

The camera focuses on the meaty morsels tumbling into the bowl, landing with saliva-inducing, moist thuds.

Dubby races toward the feast, his tongue comes within millimeters of the juicy tuna…and he awakes tragically in a cold sweat to find himself laying in a still-empty apartment rendered dark as the last of the sun’s rays disappear over the horizon.

“If that doesn’t hit you right in the feels,” Lemire wrote, “then you’re not a real feline.”

Captain Buddy Is Back For His Most Delicious Adventure Yet!

An old enemy lies in wait in the far reaches of the galaxy, ready to exact revenge on the most dashing, clever and dashingly clever captain in Starfleet!

ALPHA QUADRANT, Milky Way Galaxy — Captain Buddy is back for his most thrilling, treacherous and scrumptious adventure yet!

As the commanding officer of the USS Fowl Play and a legend within the galactic community, Captain Buddy and his trusty crew get the call to investigate reports of the malevolent Borg raiding colonies on the edge of Federation space.

Our intrepid captain arrives just in time to fend off a Borg cube attacking Dawn’s Edge, one of the largest colonies on the Felinian Rim. After mounting a heroic defense and defeating the diabolical enemy spacecraft, brave Captain Buddy discovers the Borg weren’t just trying to assimilate the peaceful Caitians living in the colony: they were after the colonist’s turkey, tuna and dilithium reserves as well!

With reinforcements several days away, Captain Buddy is tasked with defending the colony, reassuring terrified colonists, and managing a dwindling supply of sandwiches and snacks…

Buddy Rages At Klingons For Interrupting Nap Time

Can Captain Buddy of the USS Fowl Play outsmart the Klingons once again to save his crew and salvage his nap?

USS FOWL PLAY, NCC-2014A — Captain Buddy emerged from the turbolift, batting at the wrinkles in his uniform with his paws in a fruitless attempt to look more presentable.

“Not that it matters with these nap-interrupting brutes,” he sighed. “On screen!”

The helm officer tapped a sequence into his console and an image of a scowling Klingon materialized on the ship’s view screen, replacing the view of space and the sleek Klingon Warbird that had decloaked in front of the USS Fowl Play.

“Gruthnok vupar! This is the warship Dra’akkthar of the mighty Klingon empire!” the face on the view screen snarled. “Power down your pitiful excuse for a ship and prepare to be boarded!”

Captain Buddy smiled.

“Good to see you too, Captain Hrakhuul,” he said. “How are the wife and the kids?”

Hrakhuul snorted derisively.

“Only a fool jests during the hour of his doom!” the Klingon spat. “Have you no honor?”

Captain Buddy scratched his chin fur, pretending to consider the question.

“None,” he said, “but I do have a bone to pick with you. You woke me up during nap time. Again. Not cool, Hrakhuul. Not cool.”

Captain Buddy, commanding officer of the Federation starship USS Fowl Play, Galaxy class registration NCC-2014A

Hrakhuul growled.

“Your species is insolent, lazy and takes ten naps a day!”

“Why, thank you, Captain Hrakhuul! And may I say, you’re looking particularly savage today.”

“This is your last warning, Federation cat! Power down your shields and weapons or be destroyed!”

Captain Buddy yawned.

“I think I’ll have my crew serve me turkey sandwiches instead. Yeah. Turkey over obliteration, no brainer.”

This enraged the Klingon. “Prepare to taste your own blood at the tip of my ancestral bat’leth, feline fool!”

Buddy collapsed into his captain’s chair and kicked his feet up.

“Can we just skip this and get to the part where I outsmart you and go back to my nap?”

Hrakhuul cackled maniacally.

“So your fate is sealed, then. You shall fall before the might of the Klingon Emp…”

Captain Buddy cut him off.

“I wouldn’t be so confident if I were you. This is a..an, uh…” He turned to Lieutenant Pawson, the tactical officer, whispering: “What kind of ship is this again?”

“A Galaxy class, sir. Same as the flagship.”

“A Galactic class starship!” Buddy said confidently, projecting the calm of a seasoned captain. “And we have, like, uh…”

“Sixteen phaser banks and two photon torpedo launchers, sir,” Pawson whispered helpfully.

“Lasers! Like 27 of them! And torp…er, missiles and stuff! Very powerful missiles. They make yuge explosions!”

Behind him, operations Lt. Commander Cleo hid her face in her paws.

Schemeowtics for the USS Fowl Play, Captain Buddy’s awesome starship.

“Enough of your meaningless babble,” Captain Hrakhuul barked. “Prepare to die!”

Captain Buddy’s eyes went wide with shock.

“Oh no! We have a warp core breach! Abandon all decks and get to your escape pods!”

Captain Hrakhuul snarled, fear in his eyes.

“What?!?” If you think I will fall for this again, you tribble with a tail…”

“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you, Hrakkie,” he said. “You’re in the blast radius.”

Captain Buddy made a cut-off motion to the helmsman and the screen returned to its default view of a placid star field.

The bridge crew erupted into applause.

“The Klingon ship is backing up, full reverse thrusters, sir!”

Buddy cleared his throat.

“Fire a few of those proton missile things to create an explosion, then hit the gas, warp nine!”

The Captain yawned into the back of his paw as he walked toward the turbolift.

“I am returning to my nap,” he told his crew before the lift doors closed, “and anyone who interrupts me will be thrown out of an airlock!”