It’s safe to say kitty isn’t going outside any time soon.
Since we’ve been debating the merits of indoor vs outdoor cats here on Pain In The Bud, perhaps we’ve stumbled on the easiest way to turn outdoor roamers into indoor cuddlers — just invite a bear to take a sniff around your front lawn and make sure your feline friend has a front row seat.
This cat’s expression says it all the first time he sees a bear:
“Oh my God, look at his face!” kitty’s human whispers before comforting the little guy with some strokes on his furry head to let him know all is well and he isn’t in danger.
I’m pretty sure Buddy wouldn’t last as long as this cat. He’d totally kick the bear’s ass and assert dominion over his territory run and hide under the bed, then meow to me in an hour or two to see if it’s safe to come out.
The only thing better than cats is, well, more cats.
That’s why we’d like to introduce a new feature in which we profile our readers’ little buddies. It’s a win-win: You get your unique kitty featured on the blog, and the rest of us get to see more cats.
Buddy, in his infinite wisdom and generosity, has allowed me to implement this feature, “as long as the other cats don’t upstage me.” I also had to bribe him by promising to buy him a pirate eyepatch and a plush canary for his shoulder.
Interested in having your kitty featured? Head to the contact page, say hello and tell us a little bit about your cat. We’ll respond with a handful of questions. We’ll also need at least three good, high-res images of your cat, so have them ready to send when we correspond. (Don’t worry if they’re not pro quality! Mostly we’re looking for clear, close shots.)
That’s it! Right now the plan is for this to be an occasional feature, but if we get enough responses we’d be delighted to make this a regular weekly or twice-weekly thing.
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.
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.
Just a bit of absurd Bud-themed art I cooked up while messing around with Pixlr, some typesetting and filters.
In this technoir crime thriller, Detective Buddy must chase feline replicants across decadent Claw City before they upload a sinister virus that grants self-awareness to vacuum cleaners, transforming them from mere terrifying machines to terrifying machines that can kill a cat!
With time running out and an army of Los Gatos in his way, Bud must deploy every trick he’s learned to save the world from the Dysons, Bissells, Eurekas and Hoovers that would enslave feline kind under the Dust Buster Hegemony…and he must look dapper while doing it.
So we’ve got Bud as a hard-boiled detective in a dystopian science fiction future. What about Bud as the lead singer (meower?) of his very own metal band? The Buddening is at hand, my friends: Feel the power of turkey!
Back in July I wrote a humor post about Buddy “generously grooming” me while I slept:
“It was early and I hadn’t started meowing into my human’s ear at 106 decibels yet,” Buddy recalled. “Big Buddy looked so peaceful as he snoozed, so I decided I’d let him sleep and catch up on grooming myself.”
It was then that the spirit of altruism struck the normally selfish gray tabby cat.
“As I was licking my butt I thought, ‘Buddy, why are you being so selfish? Doesn’t your caring human deserve a little grooming too?’ So I stopped licking my butt and started grooming Big Buddy’s face with my tongue. Got it nice and clean while he slept, so he wouldn’t have to wash when he woke up.”
Satisfied with a job well done, Buddy hopped off the bed, walked to the corner of the bedroom and stepped through the flap of his litter box for his 8 am bowel movement.
After burying his business like a gentleman, the considerate cat quietly climbed back into bed.
“I looked over and realized I’d missed a spot right on Big Buddy’s lip,” Little Buddy recalled. “I’m nothing if not thorough and a perfectionist, so I promptly corrected my mistake, licking my human’s lip clean.”
It is, of course, completely disgusting and precisely the sort of dry, absurdist humor typical of this blog. Readers can draw comfort from the fact that their own cats, whatever their faults or annoying habits, don’t groom their humans’ lips. Because that would be gross.
As for me and Bud, well, he mostly contented himself to grooming my beard. The problem? I shaved it off just the other day.
So last night I was a dreaming a dream whose details have faded from memory, but one thing remains distinct: In my dream, fat wet raindrops began to fall on my face and lips.
I woke with a start to find Buddy grooming my chin, lips and right cheek, blurted out an “Ugh, Bud!” and vigorously wiped my mouth dry with a tissue.
I can unfortunately confirm it’s not nearly as funny when it really happens to you.
Feline humor, news and stories about the ongoing adventures of Buddy the Cat.